"So just soap and water right?" Sam asked nervously.
She was lying on her stomach on the couch with her shirt pulled up behind her and her back exposed.
"I promise you it's only temporary" Kelly assured her. "Believe me Sam, if the permanents were this easy I never would have done the needle thing."
Sam wasn't finding this as easy as she'd thought it would be. Apparently temporary tattoos weren't as simple in 1970. She'd been lying there feeling exposed for half an hour while Kelly tried to get everything just right, and she was beginning to think this whole idea was more trouble than it was worth. Although if she got the reaction out of Jack she was hoping for, it would be worth every moment.
"Are you sure you're not putting a whole flock of butterflies on there?" Sam asked impatiently biting her lip as she fought the urge to scratch her shoulder blade.
"Don't be such a baby." Kelly said unsympathetically. "There. It's done."
Sam sat up
"Now, do you have a top cut low enough in back for him to see it?"
Sam chewed her lip. "Could you lend me something?"
Kelly started toward her room and motioned for Sam to follow. "What's mine is yours." She said generously. Before adding, "If I have anything you want."
Sam considered Kelly's usual wardrobe of peasant tops and hip huggers and wondered a little herself.
Jack was lying on his back putting the finishing touches on the last bike in the garage when the owner came in.
"Hey Jack. You still here man?"
"Hey Matthew" Jack sat up and wiped the grease off his hands with a rag.
Matthew and Kelly owned and ran the garage and gas station. Kelly was twenty, Matthew was twenty-five. So he and Sam were working for two people in the age group he generally referred to as "kids". But he liked Matthew. He didn't have a problem working for a younger man. Matt was smart, friendly and treated Jack like an equal. Sometimes even a superior. And since Matt spent about as much time covered in engine grease as Jack did, he was more like a co-worker than an employer.
"Why are you still here?" Matthew surveyed his chrome and steel empire. "It's getting late man." Matthew lit up a cigarette.
Jack got to his feet and straddled the bike. "Kelly talked Sam into another one of her 'mini-makeovers' I figured they'd be a while." Jack kick-started the engine and listened to the satisfying growl/purr of a Harley Davidson in its prime.
"Bitchin" Matthew said with admiration, both for the fine wheels and Jack's skill with machinery.
"Just needed a tune up" Jack let her run for a few more seconds before he shut her down and got off.
"You guys wanna stay for dinner?" Matt invited. "The food sucks but we got some descent weed."
Jack shook his head. "Like I said man, I quit that stuff a long time ago."
"No sweat" Matthew put out his cigarette. "But for a cool guy you can sure remind me of my old man."
"Well you know what they say" Jack said lightly "When you don't have any brain cells to waste…"
"…don't get wasted." Matthew finished the sentence. "Yeah I know man. And I see your point. Not that you're dumb or anything." Matthew added un-encouragingly.
Jack looked at him.
"You can be a little dense though." Matthew said smiling.
Jack smiled sarcastically. "Why thank you Matthew"
Matt sat down on the hood of one of his cars and shook his head. "You know, it's just that for a bright guy you can be pretty slow on the uptake."
"You know Matt… you're starting to remind me of a guy I used to know…"
"Jack, why don't you just buy that chick a bike?" Matt interrupted, cutting directly to the point.
Jack blinked, caught a little off guard. He didn't have to ask what 'chick' Matt was talking about. "Sam's saving for it herself" Jack felt like it was a good excuse. Actually he didn't feel like he needed an excuse. But somehow saying the words to Matt they sounded slightly lame.
"Jack you've been working for me for six months. You can't tell me you spend money on clothes."
Jack couldn't argue with that one. "There are bills, utilities, food…" he defended
"I pay overtime. With all the time you spend in here while Samantha gets tortured by my wife you have to have enough for the Indian or the Harley, take your pick."
Jack didn't say anything.
"Okay Jack, I'll mind my own business. I'm just thinking that you two have been shacked up for what, a year now?"
Jack cringed imperceptibly at the terminology but didn't say anything.
"I mean, she's never tried to fit your for a ring or drag ya to the alter. She's not going to take it as a proposal if you give her the Hog." With that said Matt walked out, leaving Jack alone in the garage.
Jack shook his head and finished putting the tools away.