Tony stood outside the garage shaking. His mind was whirling, and he couldn't concentrate. Being completely sober for the first time in God knows how long wasn't helping. He needed a drink.
Tony turned away from the shabby garage, losing his nerve, and began to walk home. Then he stopped. He couldn't go back home, back to Michelle, who was earning all the money, without a job. He needed to get a job, any job, to show Michelle that he wasn't just lying around at home all day while she was working. She'd made it so clear to him how much she wanted him to get a job last night, while they had searched through the papers together. Tony had sat flipping absentmindedly through the sports section, while Michelle had read the job pages thoroughly; marking anything that might interest Tony. She had then rung the garage to arrange an interview for Tony, not wanting him to ring them while he was drunk. He had to at least try.
He straightened his tie, and walked purposely towards the door, now fully focused. He wasn't going to let Michelle have all the control. If they both had jobs, she wouldn't be the only one bringing money into the house. And if he had a job, he could pay for the alcohol, and she wouldn't be able to moan at him.
Tony took a deep breath to calm himself, and walked through the door. He glanced around; taking in the dark room which would hopefully soon become his workplace. Several of the windows had been smashed, and repaired with tape and cardboard. The glass hadn't been cleared from beneath one of them, and Tony noticed a large number of cobwebs hanging from the roof, which was in dire need of painting. 'Looks like you're gonna have your work cut out here' he told himself ruefully, then reprimanded himself for being so negative. If he got a job, then Michelle wouldn't moan at him.
A short, burly man, dressed in a grimy suit, and sporting a thick moustache appeared from the back of the garage. "Can I help?" he grunted, not looking incredibly pleased to have someone in his garage.
Tony took a deep breath, controlling his urge to run. "Hi, I'm Tony Almeida" he said, attempting to smile at the manger, who was now looking Tony up and down with a scowl on his face. "I'm here about the job offer" Tony prompted, trying to quell his squirming stomach.
"Oh" the manager stated, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting up. "Tony… right. So you wanna be a handyman?" he drawled, taking a drag and blowing the smoke into Tony's face.
"Uh, yeah" Tony said, caught off guard. He'd expected to at least be shown into a room, somewhere for his interview. But this guy didn't seem to know who he was, let alone seem to have prepared for Tony's interview. He forced himself to concentrate, and remembered the answers that he had prepared with Michelle's help the previous evening. "I'm open to do just about anything, cleaning, fixing cars, whatever you need". He paused, about to continue with a list of qualities that he thought would be appropriate for the job, but the manager cut across him.
"Eight until six every day except Sunday suit you?" he asked, watching something outside through one of the few grimy, but unbroken, windows.
Tony couldn't believe it, was this guy offering him the job? What kind of garage was this? He realised that the manager was waiting for a response, and quickly responded by nodding enthusiastically, unable to find his voice.
"Good. Two hundred dollars a week, no questions asked, understand me?" The manager told him, with a somewhat threatening tone. Tony's heart fell. Two hundred dollars? That was roughly three dollars an hour, for a long day's work! And no questions asked? Too right, he did understand what the manager meant. No tax, no forms, no record that he worked at the garage. A completely off the books - and illegal - job. He was about to decline, and walk out, before he remembered why he wanted a job. It wasn't for the money, or the status; it was so that Michelle couldn't moan, and would have to spend more time with him. And she wouldn't be able to moan at him for how much he drank - he would be bringing an income in as well, so he would be well within his rights to spend it on alcohol if he wanted to.
He looked up at the manager, who was now studying him carefully. "Yeah", Tony nodded his agreement. "I'll come by tomorrow".
The manager half-smiled at Tony, dropped his cigarette, now fully burnt out, and turned away. Tony stood for a moment, unable to believe what he had just agreed to, before strolling out of the door. Home. Via an alcohol store, obviously.
Michelle had left Division early, despite a heavy workload, unable to wait another second to find out how Tony had got on at the interview. God she hoped he'd got it. She was out of ideas for how to rouse him from a drunken slumber, and she had spent the previous evening scouring the newspapers for job opportunities. The handyman job at the garage had sounded half-decent, and Tony had actually shown a shred of interest, something that was hard to come by, so she had jumped at the opportunity.
Fingers crossed, the nails having been bitten off during the day with nervousness, Michelle fumbled with the key in the lock. "Tony?" she called, pushing the door open. "How'd you get on?"
"I got it" Tony shouted from the lounge after a long pause. Michelle froze; his voice was slurred, which meant he'd been drinking. Damn. She told herself to stop being so negative; now Tony had got a job, maybe the drinking would ease off. He'd got it! A wave of relief passed over her as what Tony had said sunk in. After months spent with Tony lounging around at home with no job, he'd finally got a job. Ecstatic, Michelle rushed into the lounge to hug him.
"Tony, that's fantastic! Well done!" she cried. Tony shrugged, and took a swig from his beer, before turning back to the TV. Michelle cast him a confused look, which Tony missed. "Aren't you pleased?" she asked tentatively, not understanding what was wrong. Tony briefly considered explaining the state of the garage, and job, to Michelle, but decided against it. If she thought he'd got himself a respectable job, he wasn't going to knock it.
"Yeah" he grinned. "Means I won't be stuck bored here on my own all day, I guess". He waited for Michelle's reply, half-hoping for a fiery retort so that he could have a justified reason to vent his anger in an argument. But instead, Michele simply sighed, and sat down next to him.
"Look, Tony…" she began, staring at the floor. "I've been thinking a lot about this, and…" she broke off and glanced at Tony to check that he was listening. He was. "I know how much you hate me working at Division, and, now that you've got a job, and we have a second income coming in…"
Tony rubbed his face, surprised. He hadn't thought that Michelle would leave Division for him. He couldn't help but smile at her; they'd finally be able to spend some time together.
"If you want me to leave Division, I will" Michelle said slowly, trying to block out the feeling of regret. She loved her job, but she loved Tony more.
"So, uh, now that I've got a job, we can afford for you to leave Division, is that it?" Tony asked, not sure whether to believe what he was hearing. Michelle nodded, and smiled at him. Tony leaned forward to kiss her, then pulled away sharply as he heard the TV scream at him. He jumped up, cursing loudly in Spanish at the soccer player, momentarily forgetting about Michelle. Michelle leaned back into the sofa, feeling like crying. For a moment, she had seen a glimpse of the old Tony, the Tony who would have done anything for her. But then he had vanished, and this swearing alcoholic had replaced him.
Please let the job bring him back, she prayed, watching Tony throw a bottle lid at the TV in anger. 'What if you leave Division, and he doesn't change?' her mind nagged. She pushed the worry aside, and stood up, leaving Tony alone, and wondering when to hand in her resignation.