After she left the diner where she had breakfast, Happy spent the afternoon driving around Brookings, trying to get her bearings. It was nice, finally getting to drive without being stuck in endless traffic. She weaved her way around the winding, beach-front roads for hours. She didn't stop until dinner time, when her gas light turned on.
There was a gas station - the only one in town, as far as she could tell - a block and half from the motel; it was deserted when she got there. She filled her tank and then went inside to pay. It was thirty-nine dollars, plus tax. She was running low on cash; she'd only had a little over a hundred dollars on her to begin with, and she'd spent fifty on the room and twelve on breakfast.
She had a credit card and an ATM card with her, but she didn't want to use either. She didn't know how long she'd stay in Brookings, and she didn't think anyone from the team would try to come find her but, if they were going to try, she wasn't going to make it easy for them. She'd taken the battery out of her phone, and she didn't want any bank statements pointing people towards Oregon.
As she handed the cashier two twenties, leaving only thirteen dollars and change in her wallet, someone came in from the mechanic shop attached to the gas station came in.
"Jerry," the mechanic said to the cashier. "I'm telling you, this engine is busted. I've tried everything; it won't stop smoking."
"Barry, you've had this thing for two days; we have to tell the Klines something."
"Have you checked the coolant?" Happy asked without thinking.
Jerry looked at her, eyebrows raised. "No. Why?"
"If your engine is overheating, nine time out of ten it's that the coolant needs to be replaced."
"Oh? And how would you know?"
"I'm a mechanical engineer. I could fix that car in my sleep."
Jerry scoffed. "Everything thinks they can do my job better than me, huh?"
"Look, man, if someone brings a car with a smoking engine to you and you don't even think to check the coolant, you have a bigger problem than nosy customers."
With that, Happy turned around and walked out of the store.
When Happy got back to the motel, the woman at the front desk was talking to a janitor.
"You really can't fix it?"
"No, you're going to need to call an electrician."
"Jeez, really? You know what they charge over at that place down the street."
The janitor shrugged.
Before she could think about it, Happy asked, "What's the problem?"
Both people looked over at her. "Wiring to the breaker's messed up," the janitor said. "Electricity's out in half the building."
"I could take a look."
"Are you an electrician?" The woman asked.
"A mechanical engineer, actually."
"Well, if you want to," the janitor said, "be my guest. The breaker's in the basement."
"John can show you," the woman said with a smile.
John led Happy into a dark, musty-smelling basement. The breaker down there looked at least fifty years old; the wires around it were tangled and messy, not even close to up to code.
"There she is," John said.
Happy looked around for a minute before realizing the problem: a blown fuse.
"This is actually a pretty quick fix. I probably have the stuff I need in the back of my truck. I'll go get it." She turned towards the stairs they'd come down on.
"I'm not going to wait," John called after her.
Once Happy finished replacing the fuse, the lights in the basement flickered to life. She heard a muffled shout of joy above her. When she got upstairs, the woman from the front desk beamed at her.
"Thank you so much. You have no idea how much of a lifesaver you are. Were you going to stay in town for a little while? I'd love to give you a complimentary night in your room."
Happy shrugged. "Sure." Not like she had anywhere better to be.
The next morning, Happy went back to the same diner. It had a nice view of the ocean, and the upholstery on the booths reminded her of Kovalsky's - reminded her of home.
As she was eating, Barry from the gas station came in. He ordered eggs and bacon to go, and then hung around by the front door. It took him a minute to see her; when he did, he came over.
"Hey, you were in the shop yesterday, weren't you?"
"Mm-hm."
"Jerry ended up replacing the coolant in that van; worked like a charm."
"Happy to help."
He held out his hand. "Barry White."
Happy shook it. "Happy Quinn." She realized a moment too late that she should've considered giving him a fake name.
"Well, Happy, are you in town for a while? Don't know if you're looking for work, but we could definitely use someone with your skills at the shop."
Happy rolled her eyes. "I'd rather not work at a gas station."
"Then just in the body shop. And just part time, if you'd rather. I don't know what the going rate is for mechanical engineers, and I probably can't match it, but I could pay you fifteen bucks an hour. Between you and me, Jerry really doesn't know what he's doing; our best mechanic left us a few weeks ago, and we're really in the lurch. If you could just consult on some cars…"
The word "consult" reminded Happy of her other job, the one she'd abandoned. To keep herself from thinking about it, she said, "Yes."
"Yes?"
"Okay. I'll come work for you. A couple days a week. Maybe we could start with Monday and Wednesday and see where we go from there?"
Barry's eyes lit up. "That's great! Can you start tomorrow?"
"Okay. Wait, I have one condition."
"Name it."
"You have to pay me in cash."
Barry looked like he was going to question the request, but instead he just said, "Sure, that won't be a problem."
