With Every Breath

by Everhart, Allie

  "My nails are not scruffy," she insists, shoving her hand my way. "Does that look scruffy to you?"

  I'm at a stop light and take her hand, inspecting it. She has tiny hands, and her nails aren't ragged at all. They're neatly trimmed and free of polish, which is what I like. If a girl wears polish, I prefer something light in color, like a pale pink.

  "They could use some fixing up," I tell her, letting go of her hand as I continue through the light. "And don't go painting them some dark color, like black or dark purple."

  "You're telling me what color to paint my nails?"

  "It's part of the dress code. I don't want my employees having dark nails. It's not welcoming. It makes you seem unapproachable and it frightens the children."

  "Dark nail polish does not frighten children. And you never mentioned a dress code."

  "Then here is it. No dark nail polish and no black shirts."

  "No black shirts? Why not?"

  "It's like the dark nail polish. It makes you seem unapproachable."

  "But black is all I have."

  "Then where'd you get the one you're wearing?"

  She looks down at her shirt. "This is from my aunt. She gave it to me last summer. I only wear it when I'm out of clothes. I need to do laundry tonight."

  "I like it. You should wear it more often."

  "You're not really serious about the black shirt thing, are you?"

  "I am. You're the first person people see when they come in the shop. I want them to be greeted with a smile and a color that's warm and inviting. Not black. Black is dark and sinister."

  "It's classy. And sophisticated."

  "Two things people aren't looking for in an auto shop. Taking your car in to be fixed can be stressful. You don't know what's wrong with it or how much it'll cost. We need to put people at ease when they walk in. If you want me to go shopping with you, I can."

  She huffs. "I don't need you to go shopping with me. I can't believe you're telling me how to dress. Isn't there some law against that?"

  "No. Most businesses have a dress code."

  "That includes how to paint your nails?"

  "Definitely. Some won't let you paint your nails at all. In college I worked at a restaurant that didn't let guys have beards."

  "Why not?"

  "They said it wasn't sanitary. And they didn't allow painted nails in case some of the polish chipped off in the food."

  "Gross."

  "I'm really not asking for much here. Just for you to brighten up a little. Cheer up the waiting area."

  "If you want to cheer it up, you should add a colorful rug and maybe some plants. It's really dreary in there."

  "I agree. So make up a recommendation of what you think I should do and I'll look it over. Oh, I hired a mechanic today. The interview went well and I'm desperate so I hired him on the spot. Still need to check his references before he starts."

  "When's his first day?"

  "Next Monday. He's only part time for now."

  "Does that mean you won't have to work nights anymore?"

  "I probably still will. There isn't much else to do around here."

  We arrive at the garage and find a man waiting at the front desk. I'm about to go up to him but Skye beats me to it.

  "Welcome to Stranski Auto," she says with a smile as she goes around the counter. "What can I help you with today?"

  He seems taken aback by her cheery tone and smile. You don't get that at Auto Fix. They just shove a form at you and tell you to fill it out with whatever issues you're having with your car.

  "I need an oil change," the man says, "and I want to get a check of the hoses. I think one might be leaking."

  "We can help with that." She motions to me. "This is Travis Stranski, the owner. He's great with cars. He grew up working on them. And he has an engineering degree."

  "Is that so?" the man says, sounding impressed.

  Skye is being over-the-top with her customer service today. Maybe she's trying to get another bonus.

  "Good to meet you," I say, shaking his hand. "I could get you in for the oil change today, no problem, but if there's a leak somewhere, I may have to order a part. I don't keep much in stock."

  "That's fine," he says. "When do you think you'll know?"

  "I'll take a look at it right now. Just pull it in the garage. I'll go open the doors."

  He smiles. "This place really is better than Auto Fix. They'd have me scheduled out weeks from now."

  "How'd you hear about us?" I ask.

  "A friend of mine was here yesterday. Said you do good work and treat your customers well. He said that young lady over there was very helpful."

  I look at Skye and see her smiling. She's definitely going to want another bonus.

  "That's Skye," I tell him. "She's one of my best workers. Always has a smile on her face."

  She almost rolls her eyes at that, but then stops herself.

  "Let's go take a look at your car," I say to the man.

  I'm swamped from that moment on. Usually my customers are regulars who make appointments, but today I have people just stopping in. New customers, all referrals from the three customers that were here yesterday.

  Skye is definitely getting a bonus. All this new business is because of her. When Donna worked the front reception area, I never got this type of reaction from customers. She wasn't very friendly. I tried to coach her on what to do but she just wasn't into it. She'd sit there and do her knitting or read a book instead of interacting with customers.

  "I just locked up," Skye says as she comes in the garage a little after six. "Busy day, huh?"

  "Busiest I've ever had," I say, wiping my hands on a towel. "It's because of you."

  "Me? What did I do?"

  "Most of the people who came in today were referrals from yesterday."

  "Really?"

  I walk over to her. "This is for you." I reach in my pocket and hand her a hundred dollar bill.

  "What's this? I thought you were giving me fifty."

  "I doubled it. You brought in extra business so I'm giving you another bonus. Maybe now you can get a pedicure too. Fix up those toes." I smile.

  "Shut up." She smacks me and laughs. "You've never even seen my toes."

  "I'm afraid to. If they're as bad as your fingernails, I'd rather you keep them covered."

  "You're so mean!" she says, whacking me again.

  "You know I'm only kidding." I walk over to the car I was working on. "I just need a few more minutes to finish this up and then I'll take you home. You can go watch TV if you want."

  "I'll just wait here," she says, taking a seat on the stool that's next to my workbench.

  I lean under the hood and finish tightening the screws I was putting on when Skye walked in.

  "You know," she says, "I kind of don't mind being here."

  "Oh, yeah?" I smile but she can't see me with my head buried under the hood. "Why is that?"

  "I don't know. Maybe it's the people. So far, they've been really nice, and I kind of like helping them out. Like today, that old lady with the flat tire?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I helped her with her crossword puzzle, which I guess isn't really my job but it got us talking and that's really what she wanted. Someone to talk to. I don't think she gets out much."

  "Just like you," I kid.

  "What's that supposed to mean?" She marches over me. "I go out."

  "Doesn't sound like you do. When's the last time you went out?"

  I continue to tighten screws as I wait for her answer but all I hear is silence.

  "You still there?" I ask.

  "Okay, fine, it's been awhile since I went out but..." I hear her take a breath. "I had a good excuse."

  I pull back from under the hood and see her head is down.

  "Skye, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I know it's been a tough year. I was just joking around. I shouldn't have said it."

  She nods. "Ready to go?"

  "Just let me clean up." I yan
k off my shirt and toss it in the bin. "I'll be five minutes, tops."

  I race out the door to the waiting area and up the stairs to my apartment. I quickly shower and get dressed, and when I walk out of my room I see Skye sitting on the couch.

  "Sometimes I want to," she mutters, her eyes on her hands which are on her lap.

  "Want to what?" I ask, sitting beside her.

  "Go out. Do stuff. Be normal again."

  I put my arm around her. It may not be the professional thing to do but I don't like seeing her sad. I know that sadness. I've been there.

  "Normal for you and me isn't the same as for other people," I say. "When you've been through what we've been through, there is no normal anymore. We do what we can and take it a day at a time. Or when it’s really bad, you take it a breath at a time. With every breath, you prove to yourself you can do this."

  She looks up at me. "But it's different for you. You've been working this whole last year. Going out. Going on dates." She looks down again. "I took a whole year off from school and I'm still not—" She doesn't finish the thought.

  "It's still hard for me, Skye. It may look like I've moved on but I still struggle with losing him. I'm not the person I was before. What was normal then isn't what's normal now. I used to sleep eight or nine hours a day and now I'm lucky if I get five. I used to play on sports leagues and go out with friends every night and now I'm spending my nights working on cars."

  "But you go out sometimes," she says.

  "Because I force myself to. Because I know it's what I need to do. It doesn't come naturally like it used to. Now I have to remind myself to go out. Otherwise, I'd spend all my nights here at the garage or at the gym."

  "Do you have friends in town?"

  "I grew up here so I have friends from high school that are still around. And I've met some guys at the bar. We meet up for a beer now and then. Do you have friends you could go out with?"

  "I used to. I don't anymore. I didn't talk to them when I was gone last year and they moved on."

  "You could try contacting them."

  "I don't really want to. We weren't that great of friends. And it's hard to go out with people who don't understand."

  "Skye, you can't limit yourself like that. We're in a very small club. You can't limit your friends to people who've been through this, and you can't expect them to know what you're going through."

  "I know," she says with a sigh.

  "You can always go out with me. I can't say I'll go with you to get a manicure but a movie? Sure."

  She smiles. "You could use a manicure."

  "Still not getting one."

  Her expression turns serious again. "I don't think I'm ready."

  "To go out?"

  "Yeah."

  "Just do what you can. You're going out with Heidi. That's a start. Give yourself credit for that."

  She nods.

  "I used to tell myself I wasn't doing enough. That I wasn't moving on fast enough. But Shana explained that even the smallest things are a move forward. If you think of it that way, you'll realize you really are doing better. Just look at all you've done in just this past week. Got a job. Working your way to getting a car. And you met a great guy."

  She smiles. "Nice how you always find a way to compliment yourself."

  "Are you saying I'm not a great guy?"

  "You are." She turns and looks up at me. "You're a good guy, Travis."

  I smile. "You're not so bad yourself."

  "Not bad? That's it?" She laughs.

  "I think you're awesome. I just didn't want you to get a big head." I rise up from the couch. "I should get you home."

  We go downstairs and out to my truck. I would've loved to stay on the couch with her but I couldn't do it. Not without something happening. I like this girl so damn much. I like her as a person. I like how she's opening up to me more. I like that we're able to share what we're going through and that she actually gets what I'm feeling.

  Every time I'm with her I feel closer to her. And my attraction to her isn't going away. If anything it's getting stronger. It's making it harder to be around her. Having her in my arms just now on the couch, I almost kissed her. I was imagining it in my head but I stopped myself before it actually happened. That's why I got up so fast and got us the hell out of there.

  I really do want to help Skye. I'm farther along than her and I know I could help her. I just don't want to mess it up by getting involved with her. Getting my heart involved. But it might be too late for that.

  13

  Skye

  I've been working for Travis for almost a week now. Today's my day off but I'm back at the garage because I told Travis I'd go shopping with him. I'm here so much it's almost like my second home. The part for my car came in last Friday and Travis worked until midnight to get it done so I could drive it again. I told him he didn't need to do that but he insisted.

  "Should we start at the mall?" Travis asks as we walk to his truck.

  "The stores at the mall are too expensive. I say we go to one of the big discount stores."

  He opens the truck door for me and smiles. "You look nice today."

  "I do?" I glance down at my jeans and blue shirt, which is mostly covered by my black leather jacket. I had to go out and buy a few colored shirts to comply with Travis' ridiculous dress code, which I know he just made up so I wouldn't wear black all the time. I admit it's not the friendliest color for welcoming customers but he could still let me wear it now and then.

  The other day when Heidi saw me leaving the apartment in a red t-shirt instead of my usual black she stopped me and asked me about it. I told her about the rule and she offered to give me some of the shirts she doesn't wear anymore. She has a ton of clothes, more than she could ever wear, which is why most of her stuff only gets worn a few times. The shirts she gave me look brand new so I was happy to take them. Saves me from having to buy all new ones. The one I'm wearing today is hers. It's a short-sleeve light blue button-up but the buttons start at my cleavage, showing off more than I'd like. I almost wore a tank underneath but all I have is a black one, which didn't look right.

  "It's not even a work day and you wore a shirt that wasn't black."

  "It's kind of a work day. I'm out with my boss."

  "Why don't we forget the boss thing today and just hang out as friends?"

  "We're not friends when we're at work?"

  He glances at me as he drives off. "We are, but it's different when we're there. We're busy and don't have time to talk or even have lunch together."

  "We have been really busy. Is it always that busy?"

  He laughs a little. "We've never been that busy. I'm telling you, Skye, it's all because of you."

  "Why me?"

  "There's something about you that makes you connect with people. It makes them want to come back."

  "I don't know what I'm doing that's any different than anyone else would do."

  "Well, whatever it is, keep doing it because it's working."

  What he's saying is true. People keep telling me they'll be coming back because of the friendly service, which is funny because I don't consider myself friendly and outgoing. That was Amy. She smiled at someone and they were instantly her friend and wanted to be around her. When I took this job, Travis said to smile and talk to people but since that's not really me, I told myself to act like Amy. So far it seems to be working, and surprisingly, it kind of puts me in a good mood. Now I know why Amy was so smiley and happy all the time. I guess what she used to say is true; that the vibe you put out there is the one you get back. Be friendly and smile and people will be friendly and smile back. It's not always true. I had a couple difficult customers who were mad about the wait and complained the whole time, but for the most part I've had positive interactions with people.

  "What are you thinking about over there?" Travis asks as we wait at a stop light.

  "Just about work."

  "What about it?"

  "I never thought I'd be workin
g in a job like this."

  "Like what?"

  "Having to deal with customers. I'm not good with people."

  "What are you talking about? You're great with people."

  "That was her," I say quietly. "Not me."

  "Who?"

  "Forget it." I shoot him a smile. "Let's not talk about work. We're supposed to be off today."

  He looks at me. "You mean Amy."

  I point to the light. "It's green."

  He drives through the intersection. "You were talking about Amy, right?"

  "So what do you want to get first? The kid stuff or the TV?"

  We're at the store now and he pulls in and parks. "You said she was like Heidi, right? Friendly. Talks a lot."

  "Yeah," I say, opening my door. "Let's go."

  "Wait." He holds my arm.

  "What?" I say with a sigh, not wanting to have one of our deep conversations right now. I never intend to have those but we somehow end up talking about that stuff and before I know it I'm telling him things I never intended to tell anyone. I don't know how he does it. It's like he puts some kind of spell on me that makes me spill my guts.

  "What you do back at the shop?" he says. "That's all you."

  "No it's not. It's all an act. I'm not like that in real life."

  "Really?" He lets go of my arm. "So what are you like?"

  I shrug. "I don't know. Quiet, I guess. I like to be alone."

  "And yet you're out with me today instead hanging out alone in your room."

  "Because you asked me to help. And you need it. You can't pick out kid stuff."

  "I'm pretty sure I could. I was a kid once. I know what they like."

  "Then why'd you ask me to come with you?"

  "Because I like spending time with you."

  "You see me at work every day."

  "Not when I'm working on cars and you're in the other room. That's most of the day."

  "We see each other at night sometimes."

  He flashes his smile at me. "Are you saying you're sick of me?"

  "Kind of," I say with a laugh.

  "Liar." He kiddingly pushes my shoulder.

  "Okay, maybe I'm not sick of you." I look the other way, feeling my face getting hot. I don't want him knowing how much I like him. How much I like being around him. It's embarrassing, and I don't understand it. Just over a week ago I was so depressed I almost jumped off a bridge and ended it. I can't believe I was going to do that.