Serious Fun

by Jessie Gussman

  “Turbo is the most resourceful person I know. If he doesn’t sing, I’m sure he’ll figure out a way to make it look like he does.” Torque pulled Cassidy closer and dropped a kiss on her head. “Any questions, Turbo?”

  Turbo shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at his brothers and their wives. He spared a glance for Billy, who couldn’t keep the grin off his face. As soon as Turbo met his gaze, his smile got even bigger. “Don’t know when this pro-duc-tion is, but I’m gonna be buying tickets and sitting in the front row. I’ll be sure to bring me lots of rotten fruit to throw, too. Gonna be a fun time.”

  Turbo exhaled, feeling like the breath was being sucked out from the whole way down his toes. His sense of humor and ability to roll with things didn’t usually desert him quite so thoroughly. It wasn’t really the thought of doing the play; he wasn’t the slightest bit afraid of standing up in front of people and making a fool of himself. Heck, no. That actually sounded like fun.

  However, he might be a dumb truck driver, but even he knew that he’d need to spend time with the other people in the production, “reading” the script. He could fake his way through that. Probably. But Harris would be there. She’d see him, and it was just possible that she would somehow figure out his shameful secret. He could bluff his way through it; he’d done it more than once, but the idea of seeing disappointment, shock, disgust on her face... His pride rebelled at the thought.

  Why did it even matter? It wasn’t like he’d talked to her more than a handful of times since high school. He wasn’t sure, but he just knew that of all the bad things that could happen to him, having Harris find out he couldn’t read was really close to the top of the list. He’d rather have his blowed-up motor shackled to his ankle and dropped over Niagara Falls. In January.

  “So, you gonna be Daddy Warbucks, or is Torque closing the garage and I get to sleep with my husband tonight?” Cassidy broke the silence that had descended.

  “I’ll be on the stage,” he said reluctantly.

  “As Daddy Warbucks,” Tough prompted, knowing Turbo well enough that he needed to have the words spelled out.

  “As Daddy Warbucks.” It felt like a cage closed around him as the words came out of his mouth. He dug deep for his grin and devil-may-care attitude. “And Cassidy, you can sleep with your husband tonight. I’ll get the guts out of my girl. Torque can take over in the morning.”

  “Get the hood off too, and I’ll be over around seven with a trailer to do it up in my garage.” Tough pulled Kelly closer to him, his arm resting comfortably in the dip in her waist. Turbo felt a little current of envy zap through him. He pushed it aside, surprised. He’d never wanted anything but the best for his brothers, and he was glad they were happy, and that was God’s truth.

  But maybe seeing how happy they were made him feel even more left out.

  Cassidy nodded. “That’s great. I’ll let Harris know and give her your number. She’ll let you know when the first practice is.”

  He could see already that he’d be losing his phone first thing. Like immediately. Maybe he’d chuck it out the window on his way home.

  “Thanks, Cassidy. So happy you’re taking care of it for me.” He managed to keep most of the sarcasm out of his voice.

  Turbo went to get his briefcase out of the cab of the tow truck. “Looks like you can take her on in, Billy, and let me know what I owe you.” He’d worry about everything else tomorrow.

  Chapter 4

  THE DOORBELL RANG. Harris checked the time as she set her book on the coffee table and rose to answer. Who would be visiting at eight in the evening?

  A quick peek through the curtain revealed Kelly and Cassidy, and Harris opened the door wide. “Something wrong?” Why hadn’t they called?

  Kelly bounced up and down with a huge grin on her face. “We’ve solved all of your problems!”

  “Nothing’s wrong. Can we come in for a minute?” Cassidy put a hand on Kelly’s arm and gave her a quelling look. Kelly clasped her hands together and scooted in.

  Harris’s chest tingled, maybe in fear, maybe in excitement. Her friends would not be excited and happy if something bad were happening to her, but Cassidy’s look seemed to say that her news might not be as exciting as Kelly seemed to believe.

  Harris led her friends to her kitchen table and grabbed coffee cups. “Tea?” she asked.

  “Yes, please.” Kelly grabbed cream out of the fridge, while Cassidy opened the drawer and pulled out spoons. Her half of the duplex wasn’t huge, but the kitchen was nicely done in ocean colors, which made the room bright and happy despite its small size. On a librarian’s salary, she’d never afford larger, and since she’d never have children, it didn’t really matter.

  They settled at the small table with their tea in front of them. “Okay, I’m dying here. How have you solved all of my life’s problems?”

  The only problem she really had was the production, which was not really a problem, since it wasn’t happening. She just had to call the rest of the cast and tell them. Which she’d been putting off because she’d gotten one script early and Camila had already worked so hard on memorizing her part. She wasn’t the only one who had already put countless hours in. The scenery crew. The art department at the local high school. Even the old community theater who had allowed them to have the practices and production at no fee would lose out since they had cleared their calendar for this month.

  “We found Daddy Warbucks.” Kelly’s exuberant excitement was contagious, and Harris found herself smiling, despite Cassidy’s more guarded expression.

  “Really?” she said, knowing that her friend wouldn’t lie or tease her about something like this. “Who?”

  Cassidy spoke quickly. “I think this is a really good thing, and I actually think it’s going to work out well. So don’t...”

  “It’s Turbo!” Kelly interrupted.

  Harris stood. Her chair went flying backward, landing with a loud crash while tea splashed out onto the tabletop. There was only one person in the world with a name like that. “No! No way!” Her breath came heavy and hot, and her head spun.

  “...overreact,” Cassidy finished softly.

  Harris squelched that tiny part of her that actually jumped for joy at the thought of being around Turbo and gave free rein to the much bigger part that was aghast. “Do you hate me?” They didn’t even know all of her history with Turbo. She slapped her hands down on the table and leaned over it. “You want to see me institutionalized? Either because the man would drive me insane or because I’d strangle him?” She glowered at her friends. “He will ruin the production. On purpose.”

  “He’s promised to behave.” Cassidy told Harris about Turbo’s truck and the blackmailing they’d done.

  Harris allowed her lips to curve up. “Okay, I like the idea of beating Turbo at his own pranking game, but not at the expense of my production.”

  “You didn’t have a production ten minutes ago,” Cassidy pointed out reasonably.

  Good point. “I think it’s better to not have one at all than to have one that’s a disaster.”

  “Turbo is a ham. I think he’ll actually be an asset to the show.” Kelly blew on her tea.

  “Everyone will have fun, at least,” Cassidy stated the obvious, since everyone had fun when Turbo was around.

  Everyone but Harris, who would spend practices trying to keep order, looking up for buckets of paint over her head, and keeping an eye out for frogs and snakes, probably.

  “I think more people will come to the show just to see Turbo.” Kelly took a small sip of her tea.

  “The fact that he’s singing will be even better,” Cassidy added.

  Another good point. Cassidy definitely thought like a lawyer.

  “The more people who are there, the more who will see all the pranks that he pulls. The production is live. We can’t just cut and reshoot when Turbo decides to do something...”

  “Funny?” Kelly suggested.

  “Stupid,” Harris said firmly. �
��Annie is not a comedy. Or a tragedy.”

  Cassidy gave Kelly another telling look. “Listen, Harris. We didn’t have time to run this idea by you because we had to act quickly. But if you hate it and would rather not have a show, we won’t be offended.”

  Harris thought of the months that she’d spent in the hospital as a child. She’d been able to watch TV and even play video games, but she’d been so behind when she was finally able to go back to school. A library in the children’s hospital would be a start. She envisioned bigger and better plans eventually, with laptops or tablets for the kids, audiobooks and group projects, art and music... But it had to start somewhere, and the library was the beginning. Without Annie and the funds and interest it would generate, her plans were dead.

  “I suppose the goal is to make money.” She wanted the play to be perfect, but...

  “Even if the play is a complete disaster, if people have a good time and feel like they got their money’s worth...” Cassidy’s voice trailed off.

  “I’m expecting some big donors to be there. They’ll expect the play to be perfect.” Harris fiddled with the handle on her mug. “I know Turbo being in it will bring in a whole new subset of people, which I’m actually really excited about, because it could mean volunteers and other help for the hospital library, but I don’t want Turbo to ruin the relationships and expectations that I’ve already built.”

  “I understand.” Cassidy’s serious eyes studied Harris. “I think Turbo does too. I honestly do.” She blinked and looked away before her gaze returned to Harris. “That’s why, first of all, you should make sure that he will promise to read his lines and study them. With you.” She held her hand up in supplication. “You basically supervise him learning his lines, just so you know he’s doing it.”

  Harris didn’t move. That would mean spending even more time with Turbo.

  Cassidy continued, “Also, I think it would be a really great idea to take Turbo on a tour of the hospital. Show him your idea for the library, the space the hospital has given you, and let him meet some of the kids that would benefit.”

  Kelly nodded. “That’s a great idea. I really think that under his goofy actions, Turbo is actually sensitive and caring.”

  “He has a great heart,” Cassidy said seriously.

  Harris managed to keep from snorting. Barely.

  Cassidy lifted her mug. “His truck’s down tomorrow, so he won’t be working, and the library doesn’t open until 12 on Tuesdays, right?”

  Harris swallowed. She wasn’t sure she wanted to show Turbo, notorious prankster, the dream that was closest to her heart. The tiny attraction she felt for him made her vulnerable. She didn’t want him joking and crushing her ego along with her dreams.

  “Don’t chicken out on us, Harris. We got you your leading man, you take it from here.” Kelly gave the perky smile she was known for, and Harris couldn’t keep from smiling back.

  “I don’t know whether to thank you or to think you’re not really my friends.”

  “Thank us,” Cassidy said with confidence.

  AT EIGHT THIRTY THE next morning, Harris walked into Torque Baxter’s garage. She had considered dressing down. After all, she was picking up a guy who had worked all night and was probably going to be dirty, tired, and grumpy. But she wanted to say “professional” to him, making sure he realized and understood she meant business and this play was a serious undertaking.

  So, her heels and business suit felt wildly out of place as she stepped inside. Which was expected and okay. She would feel much better when they were strolling through the hospital.

  Two men she didn’t recognize worked on the truck closest to her. They glanced her way when she walked in then did a double take.

  “Yo, Torque. One of your wife’s girlfriends is in here.” The guy who shouted threw a thumb over his shoulder at the black truck parked in the other bay, hood up. Turbo stood on rails beside the motor, one hand on the windshield, one hand on a hook that was being lowered over the motor. He looked up at the shout, the whites of his eyes glowing in his grease-covered face. Lines of fatigue tightened his mouth, but he nodded at her before his attention went back to placing the hook in the right spot.

  Harris walked over, her heels clicking on the cement and echoing through the garage. Careful not to touch anything, she stopped at what she judged to be a safe distance and waited while the hook was attached and Turbo jumped down. Torque appeared around the side of the motor, not quite as dirty as Turbo, and they closed the gap between them and her.

  “Cassidy said Turbo would have a couple of hours to tour the hospital today?” She addressed both of them because she didn’t trust Turbo not to blow her off and figured Torque would make him go.

  “He’ll be finished here in a couple of minutes.”

  “I thought I’d sleep first,” Turbo said casually.

  Harris’s brows went up.

  “Your crap doesn’t work with me, man. You’re the energizer bunny.” Torque faced Harris. “He was up all night. I’ve never actually seen Turbo tired, but if he sits down for more than two minutes, he’ll be asleep. Just a warning. You’ll need an atomic bomb and a supercharged cattle prod to wake him up again.”

  “Shut up.” Turbo punched his brother in the shoulder with a resounding smack. He glanced at Harris. “I’m gonna wash up, then I’ll be ready.”

  “Okay.” Harris tried to keep her face professionally bland and not dissolve into wide-eyed consternation.

  “Have fun,” Torque said to her, with one side of his mouth tilted up. “Keep him on a short leash. He won’t act tired, but he gets a little crazy when he hasn’t slept.”

  Harris swallowed. “Crazy in what way?”

  Torque’s lip flattened. “You’re safe.” His brow lifted. “It’s like a rollercoaster. Buckle up.” He gave another half-smile before turning and disappearing around the side of Turbo’s truck.

  Harris stood in the middle of the garage, feeling dumb. Where had Turbo gone? She looked around. A circle of chairs she hadn’t noticed before over in the far corner caught her eye. A large wooden frame-type thing sat against the wall behind it. Four bespectacled, white-haired ladies sat in the chairs. All four sets of eyes were on her.

  Harris blinked. The ladies were still there.

  Harris looked around. Yes, she was still in the garage. She walked slowly over, wondering if the chairs and ladies were like a mirage in the desert.

  They didn’t disappear as she grew closer.

  One of the ladies stood. Harris noted for the first time that they all seemed to be working on...sewing. The ladies were sewing in Torque’s diesel garage. Now, she’d seen everything.

  “Not sewing. Quilting,” the lady who had stood up said. Harris didn’t even realize she’d spoken out loud.

  “Oh.”

  “I’m Beulah Roberts.” She stuck her needle in the two patches in her left hand and held out her right.

  “Harris Winsted. Nice to meet you.” Harris shook the cool, bony hand.

  “These are the other members of the Kicking Quilters,” Beulah said, turning in her orthopedic shoes and pointing to each of the other three ladies in turn. “Betty, Angelina, and Alda.”

  Harris shook each proffered hand, although none of the others stood.

  “We all have bad backs and knees. Grab a chair and join us.” Beulah nodded her head at the small stack of extra chairs by the wall.

  “I would love to,” Harris said, finding to her surprise that it was true. “But I can’t.”

  “Oh? Hot date?” the one called Betty said with a wink.

  “Don’t be silly,” Alda said with a twinkle in her eye. “Modern women work. She’s obviously dressed for a job.”

  Angelina nodded sagely. “Dates happen in the evening.”

  Turbo appeared on Harris’s right. “Now, ladies, don’t go getting all heartbroken, but Harris and I are stepping out.”

  “I told you she was going on a date!” Betty hit Angelina’s shoulder lightly. “
Just like that little Sissy Miller. Remember her? She would go out anytime, day or night.”

  Angelina nodded, tapping a finger to her chin. “Great dancer. Didn’t she marry that boy from the railroad shop?”

  “Wait,” Alda said. “Turbo, you’re going out with Harris? I thought you and I had an understanding.”

  “We do. You bake cookies. I eat them. Nothing needs to change between us.”

  Alda gave a sigh of relief. “That’s good to know. I was just getting ready to poke her with my sewing needle.” She grinned at Harris. “Just kidding. Turbo likes to flirt with me, but I’ve got my eye on a better prize.”

  “Better than me?” Turbo asked in mock insult.

  Alda wiggled her brows. “Mr. Pollack. Now there’s one hot specimen.”

  “As long as he has his teeth in,” Beulah said dryly.

  Turbo finished wiping his hands. His t-shirt might be dirty, but it stretched across his chest like a loving second skin. “Guess I missed the memo about wearing church clothes.”

  The ladies cackled softly.

  “These aren’t church clothes...” Harris shut her mouth. “We can stop at your place, and you can change.”

  “That’s nice. You’re not going to make me walk around the hospital in these? Great. Do I get to shower, too?” His teeth flashed, and the ladies tittered behind their hands. He waved goodbye to them and steered Harris toward the door.

  “Hey, wait,” Beulah called after them. Turbo stopped and turned. Beulah disappeared into the office and returned with a homemade loaf of bread wrapped in plastic and a quart jar of what looked like some kind of soup. “Drop these off at your gram’s. She was under the weather, and I forgot to stop on my way in this morning.”

  “Will do.” Turbo took the food items. “Thanks.”

  “Tell her we hope she feels better.”

  “You got it.”

  Harris waved at the ladies and followed Turbo to the front of the garage.

  Chapter 5