Another day, another supply run. At least that's what Scott said it was.
I wasn't sure what he was talking about. We didn't exactly need any
supplies right then. So of course I argued that we had finished our last
big project a couple of days before and except for one paint job and some
minor detailing on another car, there wasn't anything on the agenda. But
Scott insisted - I say complained - that we were low on essentials and he
didn't want to get caught with his pants down if someone should happen to
walk in and want something done before the holidays. Finally I just shook
my head and walked out with out even so much as a "Whatever." If someone
was that hard-up to get their hood ornament spray painted gold, they could
wait a day while I ran to the store.
Once I calmed down and actually made my way to town I realized something that came in from left field. Along with the normal little stands and miniature stores along the roads there were vans and cars that were selling off all sorts of seasonal decorations and what not. It took me a second to realize what they were. I mean, holidays already? Wow. But, yeah, it was that time, wasn't it? Funny how time sort of snuck up on us in the junkyard. One day it was Halloween and now it was the end of the first week of December. I suppose I had an excuse though; Scott and I had been working a lot. Hey, I didn't say it was a new excuse. We got in a full restoration job and a few small ones to keep us hopping. And it's not as if I minded all the work. On one side, it was good for me to have all of that hit us at once. It kinda gave me the excuse I needed to lay off of the party circuit for a while. Not totally off by any means, but enough to start getting myself together and seeing myself through other's eyes. And I tell you, after the blow up known as "Halloween" I realized that there needed to be some changes in my life.
It really hit me when I went to this party a week after Halloween. I didn't drink. I mean, yeah, I had one drink, but I was way far from drunk. And I realized people were looking at me. Not in that paranoid, they're out to get me way, but expectantly. And then it hit me. They knew who I was and they were expecting me to do something outrageous that would shock and titillate the crowd. Bastards. I wasn't their free porn show. But then again, that's what I had become over the last several months. Kat and Rach, always doing something wild and crazy. I guess I realized that that wasn't what I wanted and that it wasn't how I wanted to get attention. I would rather have one person that really cared about me than a hundred that cared about what I could do for them. I was sick of the fakes in this world. Even the people acting like they were keeping it real were just a bunch of fakes. And the worst part was, I was probably the biggest fake of all.
I didn't drop Rach though. I don't have the heart to after all we've been through. After all, she was still my girl, but we were finding more private places to get busy at. And no, not at the junkyard either. It wouldn't be fair to Scott. I understood that now. She was a little confused about the change of heart, but she was cool with it. She didn't care as long as I didn't hold her back. She stayed on the party circuit and I didn't try to stop her. Rach was Rach. Love it or hate it, she wasn't going to wake up one morning straight as a line. Besides, my attitude was "What the hell, she's great no matter what."
And every now and then she would surprise me. Like on the last Thursday in November. She showed up with a turkey. A dead one. Plucked even. This pleased me to no end since making any sort of good meal usually meant I had to kill or pluck something that had recently been alive. Scott and I had talked about maybe having dinner somewhere together that night, but since Rach showed up with a big dead bird, presenting it to me like a cat gives its owner a dead mouse as a token of affection, dinner plans with Scott were put aside. She just grinned and said I knew how to make things hot. So work the bird. I had no idea what to say, or the heart to tell her I had already made plans, so I just laughed and got to work since I knew Rach wouldn't be cooking it. There was a reason Rachel didn't have a stove at her place. But I could make due. Scott had seen the bird and told me if I got near a car again that day, he'd kill me. "Go forth and cook, young woman," I believe were his exact words.
So I did. And let me tell you of my wondrous culinary skills, it ended up tasting beyond fabulous. I ran out and found a few things I needed and managed to turn out one of my best meals yet, despite Rachel's attempts to help in the kitchen. After she had boiled a pot of water so much so that it ended up evaporating and nearly ruining the pan itself, I told her to sit on the couch and not move. Reluctantly she slunk to the couch and ended up wandering into the garage to make small talk with Scott. I laughed at that, Rachel and Scott talking? I was almost sad I had to stay near the stove to cook. But after all was done, the three of us sat down and I dunno, it was like, a twisted Hallmark moment. But in a good way. Even Scott managed some conversation beyond "More turkey. Now."
Rachel also produced some wine after we sat down. Go figure. It wasn't some movie moment with the whole family sitting around a decorated table, but I think it was even better because it was real. It was so us. Rach had said earlier she was going to go to a party later, but she ended up ditching the party and just hanging out. Not that it sparked a change in her, she was at it twice as hard the next night to make up for it, but still, for one night I think all three of us knew what it meant to have a family.
But that had been more than a week ago and now I was tired and cranky and wondering why I was the one who was always going on supply runs. And then I walked through the front door. The bag slipped through my nerveless fingers, landing on the floor somewhere near my jaw. Oh my God. That was all I could think. Oh my God.
The place was softly lit with a bunch of twinkling colorful lights. They were everywhere, on the walls, behind the bed, even draping around the doors and windows. And in the corner were Scott and a tree.
My eyes were as huge as golf balls and I still had no clue what to say or think. I mean, a tree. And lights. And Scott. Somehow it wasn't connecting in my head. It didn't make sense. When I had left he was huddled in the garage, moaning about supplies and what not. But to get back and see our home in such a way. I needed to sit.
Years ago, I remember being in a place where it was all decorated. Mom had managed to find shelter in the arms of one of her clients for Christmas Eve. And while she was busy in the other room with him I was left in his living room. I remember looking around at all of the pictures and decorations. There were pictures of what I assumed were his wife and kids surrounded by different sorts of miniature statues and trinkets but most of all, I remember the tree. It was decorated fully with lights, garland, fake icicles, and gorgeous blue and silver ornaments. The lights twinkled, causing the silver garland to shine. I was so excited and enamored.
When my mom and he were finished they came out while I was still staring at the tree. The man even let me take one of the small icicle ornaments as a keepsake. I used to look at it and remember that night. I'd hang it on something and pretend it was my tree. And once again I would be taken back to the warmth of the house and I'd remember what it felt like. But when I ran, I had forgotten to grab it. Looking around at my house now, I could almost smell and feel that old house. And somehow, it was comforting.
Next thing I knew, Scott was sitting beside me on the couch, pulling me towards the tree and out of my memories. "Do you like it?"
I looked around once more, trying to come up with words, "I love it, Scott." I finally whispered.
A huge grin spread across his face and like a small boy presenting his mother with flowers, he showed me around and told me of all he had done. From the lights to the ribbons to even some candles. His eyes shone as he told me how he'd gotten the tree and different things from a client and how he'd had this planned for weeks. I couldn't believe what he had done. And the biggest surprise of all was when he grabbed the cans of red and gold spray paint I had picked up and he then led me into the garage. Hung from the ceiling were several different scraps of metal and small car parts. He shook a can the sprayed one of the pieces gold. My brow furrowed, "I don't get it."
Scott simply smiled and sprayed a bit of red on top of the gold, "You're going to help me finish decorating the tree, aren't you?"
Then it clicked. The supply run had been for the Holidays, not for car parts. He really had planned this all out. Smiling I grabbed a can of spray paint, "I'd love to."
We spent most of the day spray painting, decorating, organizing and reorganizing the house to make it feel new and more in the Holiday spirit. We even ended up spray painting some of the tables and crates to match the decorations. He continued to tell me, in detail, exactly how he'd figured out how he was going to decorate and why he put everything where he had.
Evening came and went and finally we had the house looking perfect. We lit the candles around the house and sat down to dinner. He had even prepared a little something there too. Not much, it was simply some processed, packaged food that didn't actually require cooking but the effort alone spoke volumes. We continued chatting happily during dinner and after cleaning up a bit we both sat on the couch. Silence loomed and I turned to look at Scott. It was amazing. He had changed so much since I first got there. I have to admit, I didn't notice over the months. But it was amazing how different he actually looked. He'd grown taller, his shoulders more broad and his face had aged. It made me wonder if I'd changed too.
I mindlessly played with my tongue ring for a second before grabbing Scott's hand and squeezing, "Thank you."
"You're welcome." He squeezed back.
We sat for a few seconds, hands still together. I moved to face him a bit, "Why did you do it?"
He gazed around at the decorations before glancing at me, "Because you deserve it."
"I do?" I questioned softly.
Again, Scott squeezed my hand, "You do."
I squirmed uncomfortably, "But why?"
"Because," he started to say and then hesitated, looking as uncomfortable as I felt. "For once just trust me," he finally said. "You've done more for me than I can say. So I wanted to do this for you."
I blinked. He was the one that took me in, taught me about cars, took care of me when I would let him, and didn't try to run my life. What had I done for him? Sure, I had helped him with cars, but he wouldn't have had to do so many if he were just taking care of himself. I had also driven him crazy, argued constantly, and invited myself in his life without asking first.
I guess I was still staring and he thought that was need for more explanation. He sighed. "My parents were just people I lived with. In my life there was only one person that I ever thought of as real family. Until I met you."
For a second I thought I saw a glaze of tears in his eyes. And then I realized that my vision was getting a little watery too. Whoa. Must have been the fumes from the spray paint. I leaned over and gave him a hug. "I know what you mean, Sparky."
We broke apart, feeling kind of odd about the situation. I couldn't see myself telling Rachel that she was a part of my family. Scott had become an older brother and a friend. We were going to fight and argue, but deep down we did care about each other. I couldn't remember having a friend like that for real. Hell, couldn't remember having a family member like that. And if I ever met this mysterious Zane guy from Scott's past, I was going to kick him where he would remember it to his dying day for abandoning Scott when he still needed him.
"Oh, Kat," Scott said, "You have to promise me that you won't go into the bottom drawer of my tool box."
I looked at him suspiciously. "The one that has a lock that works?"
"The one that you've broken into more than once?"
"Whyyyy?" I drawled.
He looked at me like I had an IQ of about 4. That was the Scott I was used to. "Kat, it's Christmas," he said emphatically. And then I got it. Christmas. Tree. Things that go under said tree. Things in wrapping paper with bows. Oh crap. When I was little I had made my mother a star of silver-painted macaroni and called it a Christmas gift, but I had never in my life been presented with the situation of getting someone a real one. There was only one thing I could do.
Rachel laughed at me that night when we were at a club. "Get him something he wants," she suggested.
I rolled my eyes. "How am I supposed to figure that out?"
She smiled at me and licked her lips. "Well, there's a night with the two of us."
"I don't want to get him something he'd exchange for store credit," I replied dryly. That made Rachel laugh again.
"You can't tell me there isn't something he wants to add to that greasy little cave."
"That cave happens to be a garage," I replied. "And he's got *everything*."
Rachel smirked and took a sip of her drink. "Lesson one on men, Kat. No matter how much they have, they always want more."
I thought about it, and then gasped, my eyes widening. "A transmission jack!" I cried triumphantly. Rachel looked at me like I was crazy. "It's used for taking out a tranny," I explained quickly. "Flat plate that tilts, makes it a lot easier to line up the transmission with the driveshaft of the engine." Rachel's expression said that I was speaking Greek to her. I shook my head. "It's a big metal thing Scott talked about the last car we did."
"Now you're making sense!" She settled back into her seat. "Where you going to get one?"
I thought and the excitement faded. "I have no idea," I said sadly. "Scott looked all over LA and he couldn't find one that they would sell."
Rachel thought for a minute. "I have a friend in San Francisco that can get almost anything. I'll give him a call."
I smiled. "If you can find one, then I am going to owe you big."
She grinned. "Baby, that's what I'm counting on."
A couple of weeks went by and I was getting frantic about Scott's gift. Rachel's friend was looking, but hadn't located what I wanted. I had found this cool tool box, but it just seemed lame as a gift after all Scott went through to make the place festive. Every time I walked in and saw the ornaments we made glittering in the little colored lights and smelled the pine scent, I felt so guilty. I wanted to do something nice for him too.
And then three days before Christmas, Rach came flying into the junkyard; dragging me out from under a car I was playing with. Scott was out; one of our clients had called saying his car wouldn't start. From what he has said, Scott was thinking he left the lights on and the battery was dead. Still, it gave Rach and me an hour or two alone.
"Tiny called!" she said excitedly. "He found exactly what you were looking for. All the little numbers you gave me match."
I squealed in excitement, giving her a big hug and swinging her around. "Rach, you cannot imagine the filthy things I am going to do to your body in gratitude."
She laughed. "Don't promise just yet," she said. "There's a catch. The guy that has it is leaving tonight to go to San Diego. So if you want it, we have to leave like right now."
I looked around. Shit! Those things are big and heavy and the little pickup that we had was barely trustworthy to go around town, much less a road trip. The car I would trust for a trip like this was too small to fit the jack into. And then I remembered the Escalade.
It wasn't paid for yet. I swear. That was the only reason why I even considered it. Mr. T. A. Barron's friend's girlfriend wanted one. The friend wanted to see what Scott could do before purchasing. But if he bought it, then we would get a lot more business. It was hinted that the girlfriend liked having a new car a couple times a year. They were going to come and look at it New Year's Day.
I glanced at Rachel then to the set of keys on our customer wall. I needed to do this for Scott, but if anything happened to the car, he was going to kill me, and then he'd kill Rachel. I chewed on my lip while contemplating what it would take to get to San Francisco and back and not hurt the car. But then again, if anything did happen, it's not like we wouldn't have time if necessary to fix it.
I took a minute to write a note to Scott letting him know I was going to be with Rach, but I would be home the next day, or the morning of Christmas Eve at the latest. And then making an executive decision, I grabbed the set of keys and jangled them in the air, "Come on, girl. Move your ass off that Range Rover and into my pretty baby Escalade!"
Rachel furrowed her brow in confusion before following me out of the car and to the Escalade. She squealed with glee, "Oh, it's shiny!"
I rolled my eyes. Only Rachel would say something like that. "Yes, shiny and ex-pen-sive," I said slowly, emphasizing the syllables in expensive. "That means if you do anything to damage or hurt this guy, not only will you see my wrath, but Scott will probably be right behind me."
"Does that mean no fun loving?" she asked with wide eyes.
I started the car and began driving out of the junkyard, "Not completely. Just not in the car."
"I don't know, Kat." Rachel smirked, placing a hand on my thigh and ran it up to my breast, "Car loving can be twice as fun."
Carefully, I swatted her hand away, "No, no, and more no's. If anything happens I can't guarantee that I'll have enough time to fix it before Scott sees. Besides if one seat gets anything on it then that means I have to reupholster all of the seats because we don't have any of this material left and the guy we got it from won't have any for another few months. And I don't want to have to reupholster all of the seats."
"Whatever you say." Rachel backed off, giving me a sideways glance.
"What?" I sighed, knowing that there was more to her look.
Rachel innocently batted her eyelashes, "Oh nothing. Just that you sounded just like Scott. For a second I was tempted to try and rip off your facemask. I mean, all I was asking was for a bit of cuddling a little fun."
I gave a half smile, "I know, but, seriously, not while we're in the car. I mean, I don't even want to risk eating in here, let alone us romping around." I grinned over at her, "Think about it, Rach. When was the last time something actually looked the same when we were done with our 'fun loving'?"
"Touché." Rachel broke, "At least can we check out the radio? Oh, and we should stop in Half Moon Bay before San Fran. I know a guy there who will let us pick and chose from his vintage collection of music. For free."
"Mmm." I glanced at the clock, "Maybe on the way back, but for now, we have to make a non-stop 400 mile road trip."
Sighing Rachel leaned back in her seat before sitting up straight, "Wait a second." Smiling she grabbed her purse and started rifling through it before presenting me with two CD's full of techno music. "May I?"
"Please do." I nodded, sliding back a piece of the dash to reveal the stereo deck.
As the first track of the first CD started so did a trip I was sure to never forget.
Once I calmed down and actually made my way to town I realized something that came in from left field. Along with the normal little stands and miniature stores along the roads there were vans and cars that were selling off all sorts of seasonal decorations and what not. It took me a second to realize what they were. I mean, holidays already? Wow. But, yeah, it was that time, wasn't it? Funny how time sort of snuck up on us in the junkyard. One day it was Halloween and now it was the end of the first week of December. I suppose I had an excuse though; Scott and I had been working a lot. Hey, I didn't say it was a new excuse. We got in a full restoration job and a few small ones to keep us hopping. And it's not as if I minded all the work. On one side, it was good for me to have all of that hit us at once. It kinda gave me the excuse I needed to lay off of the party circuit for a while. Not totally off by any means, but enough to start getting myself together and seeing myself through other's eyes. And I tell you, after the blow up known as "Halloween" I realized that there needed to be some changes in my life.
It really hit me when I went to this party a week after Halloween. I didn't drink. I mean, yeah, I had one drink, but I was way far from drunk. And I realized people were looking at me. Not in that paranoid, they're out to get me way, but expectantly. And then it hit me. They knew who I was and they were expecting me to do something outrageous that would shock and titillate the crowd. Bastards. I wasn't their free porn show. But then again, that's what I had become over the last several months. Kat and Rach, always doing something wild and crazy. I guess I realized that that wasn't what I wanted and that it wasn't how I wanted to get attention. I would rather have one person that really cared about me than a hundred that cared about what I could do for them. I was sick of the fakes in this world. Even the people acting like they were keeping it real were just a bunch of fakes. And the worst part was, I was probably the biggest fake of all.
I didn't drop Rach though. I don't have the heart to after all we've been through. After all, she was still my girl, but we were finding more private places to get busy at. And no, not at the junkyard either. It wouldn't be fair to Scott. I understood that now. She was a little confused about the change of heart, but she was cool with it. She didn't care as long as I didn't hold her back. She stayed on the party circuit and I didn't try to stop her. Rach was Rach. Love it or hate it, she wasn't going to wake up one morning straight as a line. Besides, my attitude was "What the hell, she's great no matter what."
And every now and then she would surprise me. Like on the last Thursday in November. She showed up with a turkey. A dead one. Plucked even. This pleased me to no end since making any sort of good meal usually meant I had to kill or pluck something that had recently been alive. Scott and I had talked about maybe having dinner somewhere together that night, but since Rach showed up with a big dead bird, presenting it to me like a cat gives its owner a dead mouse as a token of affection, dinner plans with Scott were put aside. She just grinned and said I knew how to make things hot. So work the bird. I had no idea what to say, or the heart to tell her I had already made plans, so I just laughed and got to work since I knew Rach wouldn't be cooking it. There was a reason Rachel didn't have a stove at her place. But I could make due. Scott had seen the bird and told me if I got near a car again that day, he'd kill me. "Go forth and cook, young woman," I believe were his exact words.
So I did. And let me tell you of my wondrous culinary skills, it ended up tasting beyond fabulous. I ran out and found a few things I needed and managed to turn out one of my best meals yet, despite Rachel's attempts to help in the kitchen. After she had boiled a pot of water so much so that it ended up evaporating and nearly ruining the pan itself, I told her to sit on the couch and not move. Reluctantly she slunk to the couch and ended up wandering into the garage to make small talk with Scott. I laughed at that, Rachel and Scott talking? I was almost sad I had to stay near the stove to cook. But after all was done, the three of us sat down and I dunno, it was like, a twisted Hallmark moment. But in a good way. Even Scott managed some conversation beyond "More turkey. Now."
Rachel also produced some wine after we sat down. Go figure. It wasn't some movie moment with the whole family sitting around a decorated table, but I think it was even better because it was real. It was so us. Rach had said earlier she was going to go to a party later, but she ended up ditching the party and just hanging out. Not that it sparked a change in her, she was at it twice as hard the next night to make up for it, but still, for one night I think all three of us knew what it meant to have a family.
But that had been more than a week ago and now I was tired and cranky and wondering why I was the one who was always going on supply runs. And then I walked through the front door. The bag slipped through my nerveless fingers, landing on the floor somewhere near my jaw. Oh my God. That was all I could think. Oh my God.
The place was softly lit with a bunch of twinkling colorful lights. They were everywhere, on the walls, behind the bed, even draping around the doors and windows. And in the corner were Scott and a tree.
My eyes were as huge as golf balls and I still had no clue what to say or think. I mean, a tree. And lights. And Scott. Somehow it wasn't connecting in my head. It didn't make sense. When I had left he was huddled in the garage, moaning about supplies and what not. But to get back and see our home in such a way. I needed to sit.
Years ago, I remember being in a place where it was all decorated. Mom had managed to find shelter in the arms of one of her clients for Christmas Eve. And while she was busy in the other room with him I was left in his living room. I remember looking around at all of the pictures and decorations. There were pictures of what I assumed were his wife and kids surrounded by different sorts of miniature statues and trinkets but most of all, I remember the tree. It was decorated fully with lights, garland, fake icicles, and gorgeous blue and silver ornaments. The lights twinkled, causing the silver garland to shine. I was so excited and enamored.
When my mom and he were finished they came out while I was still staring at the tree. The man even let me take one of the small icicle ornaments as a keepsake. I used to look at it and remember that night. I'd hang it on something and pretend it was my tree. And once again I would be taken back to the warmth of the house and I'd remember what it felt like. But when I ran, I had forgotten to grab it. Looking around at my house now, I could almost smell and feel that old house. And somehow, it was comforting.
Next thing I knew, Scott was sitting beside me on the couch, pulling me towards the tree and out of my memories. "Do you like it?"
I looked around once more, trying to come up with words, "I love it, Scott." I finally whispered.
A huge grin spread across his face and like a small boy presenting his mother with flowers, he showed me around and told me of all he had done. From the lights to the ribbons to even some candles. His eyes shone as he told me how he'd gotten the tree and different things from a client and how he'd had this planned for weeks. I couldn't believe what he had done. And the biggest surprise of all was when he grabbed the cans of red and gold spray paint I had picked up and he then led me into the garage. Hung from the ceiling were several different scraps of metal and small car parts. He shook a can the sprayed one of the pieces gold. My brow furrowed, "I don't get it."
Scott simply smiled and sprayed a bit of red on top of the gold, "You're going to help me finish decorating the tree, aren't you?"
Then it clicked. The supply run had been for the Holidays, not for car parts. He really had planned this all out. Smiling I grabbed a can of spray paint, "I'd love to."
We spent most of the day spray painting, decorating, organizing and reorganizing the house to make it feel new and more in the Holiday spirit. We even ended up spray painting some of the tables and crates to match the decorations. He continued to tell me, in detail, exactly how he'd figured out how he was going to decorate and why he put everything where he had.
Evening came and went and finally we had the house looking perfect. We lit the candles around the house and sat down to dinner. He had even prepared a little something there too. Not much, it was simply some processed, packaged food that didn't actually require cooking but the effort alone spoke volumes. We continued chatting happily during dinner and after cleaning up a bit we both sat on the couch. Silence loomed and I turned to look at Scott. It was amazing. He had changed so much since I first got there. I have to admit, I didn't notice over the months. But it was amazing how different he actually looked. He'd grown taller, his shoulders more broad and his face had aged. It made me wonder if I'd changed too.
I mindlessly played with my tongue ring for a second before grabbing Scott's hand and squeezing, "Thank you."
"You're welcome." He squeezed back.
We sat for a few seconds, hands still together. I moved to face him a bit, "Why did you do it?"
He gazed around at the decorations before glancing at me, "Because you deserve it."
"I do?" I questioned softly.
Again, Scott squeezed my hand, "You do."
I squirmed uncomfortably, "But why?"
"Because," he started to say and then hesitated, looking as uncomfortable as I felt. "For once just trust me," he finally said. "You've done more for me than I can say. So I wanted to do this for you."
I blinked. He was the one that took me in, taught me about cars, took care of me when I would let him, and didn't try to run my life. What had I done for him? Sure, I had helped him with cars, but he wouldn't have had to do so many if he were just taking care of himself. I had also driven him crazy, argued constantly, and invited myself in his life without asking first.
I guess I was still staring and he thought that was need for more explanation. He sighed. "My parents were just people I lived with. In my life there was only one person that I ever thought of as real family. Until I met you."
For a second I thought I saw a glaze of tears in his eyes. And then I realized that my vision was getting a little watery too. Whoa. Must have been the fumes from the spray paint. I leaned over and gave him a hug. "I know what you mean, Sparky."
We broke apart, feeling kind of odd about the situation. I couldn't see myself telling Rachel that she was a part of my family. Scott had become an older brother and a friend. We were going to fight and argue, but deep down we did care about each other. I couldn't remember having a friend like that for real. Hell, couldn't remember having a family member like that. And if I ever met this mysterious Zane guy from Scott's past, I was going to kick him where he would remember it to his dying day for abandoning Scott when he still needed him.
"Oh, Kat," Scott said, "You have to promise me that you won't go into the bottom drawer of my tool box."
I looked at him suspiciously. "The one that has a lock that works?"
"The one that you've broken into more than once?"
"Whyyyy?" I drawled.
He looked at me like I had an IQ of about 4. That was the Scott I was used to. "Kat, it's Christmas," he said emphatically. And then I got it. Christmas. Tree. Things that go under said tree. Things in wrapping paper with bows. Oh crap. When I was little I had made my mother a star of silver-painted macaroni and called it a Christmas gift, but I had never in my life been presented with the situation of getting someone a real one. There was only one thing I could do.
Rachel laughed at me that night when we were at a club. "Get him something he wants," she suggested.
I rolled my eyes. "How am I supposed to figure that out?"
She smiled at me and licked her lips. "Well, there's a night with the two of us."
"I don't want to get him something he'd exchange for store credit," I replied dryly. That made Rachel laugh again.
"You can't tell me there isn't something he wants to add to that greasy little cave."
"That cave happens to be a garage," I replied. "And he's got *everything*."
Rachel smirked and took a sip of her drink. "Lesson one on men, Kat. No matter how much they have, they always want more."
I thought about it, and then gasped, my eyes widening. "A transmission jack!" I cried triumphantly. Rachel looked at me like I was crazy. "It's used for taking out a tranny," I explained quickly. "Flat plate that tilts, makes it a lot easier to line up the transmission with the driveshaft of the engine." Rachel's expression said that I was speaking Greek to her. I shook my head. "It's a big metal thing Scott talked about the last car we did."
"Now you're making sense!" She settled back into her seat. "Where you going to get one?"
I thought and the excitement faded. "I have no idea," I said sadly. "Scott looked all over LA and he couldn't find one that they would sell."
Rachel thought for a minute. "I have a friend in San Francisco that can get almost anything. I'll give him a call."
I smiled. "If you can find one, then I am going to owe you big."
She grinned. "Baby, that's what I'm counting on."
A couple of weeks went by and I was getting frantic about Scott's gift. Rachel's friend was looking, but hadn't located what I wanted. I had found this cool tool box, but it just seemed lame as a gift after all Scott went through to make the place festive. Every time I walked in and saw the ornaments we made glittering in the little colored lights and smelled the pine scent, I felt so guilty. I wanted to do something nice for him too.
And then three days before Christmas, Rach came flying into the junkyard; dragging me out from under a car I was playing with. Scott was out; one of our clients had called saying his car wouldn't start. From what he has said, Scott was thinking he left the lights on and the battery was dead. Still, it gave Rach and me an hour or two alone.
"Tiny called!" she said excitedly. "He found exactly what you were looking for. All the little numbers you gave me match."
I squealed in excitement, giving her a big hug and swinging her around. "Rach, you cannot imagine the filthy things I am going to do to your body in gratitude."
She laughed. "Don't promise just yet," she said. "There's a catch. The guy that has it is leaving tonight to go to San Diego. So if you want it, we have to leave like right now."
I looked around. Shit! Those things are big and heavy and the little pickup that we had was barely trustworthy to go around town, much less a road trip. The car I would trust for a trip like this was too small to fit the jack into. And then I remembered the Escalade.
It wasn't paid for yet. I swear. That was the only reason why I even considered it. Mr. T. A. Barron's friend's girlfriend wanted one. The friend wanted to see what Scott could do before purchasing. But if he bought it, then we would get a lot more business. It was hinted that the girlfriend liked having a new car a couple times a year. They were going to come and look at it New Year's Day.
I glanced at Rachel then to the set of keys on our customer wall. I needed to do this for Scott, but if anything happened to the car, he was going to kill me, and then he'd kill Rachel. I chewed on my lip while contemplating what it would take to get to San Francisco and back and not hurt the car. But then again, if anything did happen, it's not like we wouldn't have time if necessary to fix it.
I took a minute to write a note to Scott letting him know I was going to be with Rach, but I would be home the next day, or the morning of Christmas Eve at the latest. And then making an executive decision, I grabbed the set of keys and jangled them in the air, "Come on, girl. Move your ass off that Range Rover and into my pretty baby Escalade!"
Rachel furrowed her brow in confusion before following me out of the car and to the Escalade. She squealed with glee, "Oh, it's shiny!"
I rolled my eyes. Only Rachel would say something like that. "Yes, shiny and ex-pen-sive," I said slowly, emphasizing the syllables in expensive. "That means if you do anything to damage or hurt this guy, not only will you see my wrath, but Scott will probably be right behind me."
"Does that mean no fun loving?" she asked with wide eyes.
I started the car and began driving out of the junkyard, "Not completely. Just not in the car."
"I don't know, Kat." Rachel smirked, placing a hand on my thigh and ran it up to my breast, "Car loving can be twice as fun."
Carefully, I swatted her hand away, "No, no, and more no's. If anything happens I can't guarantee that I'll have enough time to fix it before Scott sees. Besides if one seat gets anything on it then that means I have to reupholster all of the seats because we don't have any of this material left and the guy we got it from won't have any for another few months. And I don't want to have to reupholster all of the seats."
"Whatever you say." Rachel backed off, giving me a sideways glance.
"What?" I sighed, knowing that there was more to her look.
Rachel innocently batted her eyelashes, "Oh nothing. Just that you sounded just like Scott. For a second I was tempted to try and rip off your facemask. I mean, all I was asking was for a bit of cuddling a little fun."
I gave a half smile, "I know, but, seriously, not while we're in the car. I mean, I don't even want to risk eating in here, let alone us romping around." I grinned over at her, "Think about it, Rach. When was the last time something actually looked the same when we were done with our 'fun loving'?"
"Touché." Rachel broke, "At least can we check out the radio? Oh, and we should stop in Half Moon Bay before San Fran. I know a guy there who will let us pick and chose from his vintage collection of music. For free."
"Mmm." I glanced at the clock, "Maybe on the way back, but for now, we have to make a non-stop 400 mile road trip."
Sighing Rachel leaned back in her seat before sitting up straight, "Wait a second." Smiling she grabbed her purse and started rifling through it before presenting me with two CD's full of techno music. "May I?"
"Please do." I nodded, sliding back a piece of the dash to reveal the stereo deck.
As the first track of the first CD started so did a trip I was sure to never forget.