A/N: Personal shout out to my favorite corporate cafeteria workers, Carlos and Francisco. Their amazing breakfast burritos got me through many days of back-to-back conference calls.
Chapter Eighteen: Inventory
Tony crept out of bed before his alarm went off, carefully closing the bathroom door and attending to his morning routine. He stepped out fully clothed, save the shoes he had left by the front door. There was no need for caffeine after sleeping so well, and he didn't want to leave hours-old coffee for Angela and Mona. He grabbed his wallet and pulled out the thirty dollars he had promised to Angela for her shopping trip, leaving it on the kitchen counter with a note. "Jess, this is for shopping. Have a good day. Love, Bobby." Then he put on his shoes and took the keys to the pickup, backing out of the garage into the silent subdivision and beginning his journey.
The freeways were sparsely populated on this holiday morning. Mostly big commercial box trucks and tractor-trailers. It was well before 6am when he pulled into the parking lot of the Restoration Supply distribution center, but there were plenty of vehicles in the lot. Some small pickups like his, some family cars, but mostly larger pickups suitable for construction work. He went into the reception door and greeted the young lady behind the counter.
"Good morning, Fiona," he said, reading her nametag. "My name is Bobby Moretti, and I'm supposed to be starting work here today."
"Hey," she said, chewing her bubble gum obnoxiously and consulting a list. "Nah, don't see you."
"It's probably under Christopher. Robert is my middle name," Tony clarified.
"Oh yeah. Warehouse supervisor. Well, let's get you a name tag." She went to a small machine and stamped "Bobby Moretti" on one line and "Warehouse Supervisor" in smaller letters underneath.
"Do you need my documents?" Tony asked. He had been supplied with an Ohio driver's license and social security card. All of the adults in the household would need to obtain new Arizona licenses soon. He should remind Angela to go to the Motor Vehicle Department this week, while she still had weekdays free.
"Oh yeah. Lemme get a copy of that," she said, reaching for the two cards and slapping them onto the copy machine together. She filed the copy in a locked drawer somewhere below the counter and returned the originals.
"Here's your timecard. I'll show ya how to punch in," she said, as he returned the IDs to his wallet.
"I'm not supposed to report until six. Is there a breakroom where I can hang out until then?"
"Eh, it's your first day. My mom always told me that paperwork is work, so you should get paid for it. We'll clock you in and then I'll show you where to get a cup of coffee." Fiona was beginning to win Tony over.
"Sounds good!" Bobby Moretti was going to be every bit the hustler Tony Micelli had been in his youth. He hoped to capitalize on the small improvements he'd made in Connecticut, as well. Bobby would be a refined blue-collar worker, if all went according to plan. It had to.
When Tony saw the breakroom, he was appalled. There were food wrappers and used napkins strewn across the sticky tables, puddles of coffee on the counter, and a pile of sugar and powder creamer packets next to the ugly coffee urn. He took a paper cup from the plastic sleeve and dispensed the last half cup of coffee. Fiona had disappeared, back to the counter to greet other visitors and employees.
In the fifteen minutes before the start of his shift, Tony cleaned the whole room and started a new pot of coffee. He found some scratch paper and a sharpie in the drawer and made standing signs:
"Be courteous, be clean."
"Bus your own table."
"Your mother doesn't work here."
"A clean breakroom is everyone's responsibility."
"Please don't leave an empty pot."
Just as Tony was placing the last sign, a man came into the room. "Wow! This place is always a pigsty. I've never seen it so clean." Tony couldn't believe that. Despite his efforts, the floors were still grimy and there was still a ring of dust clinging to the baseboards. He hadn't looked in the refrigerator, but suspected it was a health hazard.
"Good morning! I'm Bobby, the new guy," Tony said cheerfully, offering a handshake.
The man accepted with a firm pump and a brief clasp from his other hand. "Welcome, Bobby. I'm your new manager, Jimmy. Are you ready to get started?"
"Sure am!"
They walked down a long hallway and came out into an enormous warehouse. There was a group of young men and women in dark suits huddled nearby with a stack of papers. "Accountants," Jimmy explained. "They're here to make sure we don't pull any shady moves like relocating inventory during the count or passing off damaged goods at full value. They're also going to validate our counts, so be as accurate as possible. If you lose their trust, it causes a lot of rework."
Tony was starting to feel like this was too much for his first day. He thought of Angela's reassuring words and steeled his nerves. It was just matching labels and counting things. He was going to shadow his manager, who seemed very nice, for a while and then follow detailed instructions. He could do it.
Jimmy took a clipboard and pen and narrated his way through inventorying different kinds of items, from lumber to doorknobs to ceiling fans to rope. Then he handed his trainee a laminated floorplan and a clipboard of his own, sending him to count nails and screws on the opposite side of the building. Tony caught on easily and began turning in his count sheets. At ten, Jimmy found him and asked him to take a break.
"You're doing great, Bobby. Now, tomorrow, I'd recommend you wear different shoes. With the forklifts running, it's smart to have steel-toed boots. These concrete floors can really ruin your back after a few years, too. I can give you a recommendation for a good, supportive pair. There's an independent store nearby that's actually open three-hundred-sixty-five days a year."
"How much is that gonna run me? I'm a little cash-strapped until payday."
"About fifty bucks. We can give you an advance up to half your next paycheck. You'll be on for twelve hours of holiday pay today, so that's a couple hundred take-home," he said, looking at the ceiling while he did the math in his head. "I can approve a hundred dollar advance at the end of your shift if you promise to get those boots before noon tomorrow."
"Yes, sir. I would appreciate it!"
"It's important for me to take care of my people, Bobby, and I expect the same from you with your team."
"Yes, of course. I agree, Jimmy," Tony responded. He got back to work for another few hours, meeting a half dozen other supervisors and managers before breaking for lunch. A taco truck was parked outside, and he lined up for a five-dollar burrito and aqua fresca. It wasn't something he could afford on a regular basis, but he was famished after skipping breakfast. The cashier, Carlos, remarked that Bobby was new and introduced himself and the cook, Francisco, who was sweating over a hot grill in the back.
At the end of the day, Jimmy walked Tony up to the accounting department, where Sally from payroll provided an advance request form and cut Bobby a manual check for one hundred dollars. Then Tony clocked out and began his evening commute. The roads were still clear, so he decided to go to the shoe store his boss had recommended. His route was probably not the most efficient, but he made it there an hour before closing time and left the store with a pair of boots that emptied his wallet. He would have to cash his advance check before they could buy groceries for the coming week.
When Tony got home, it was almost eight. He was hungry and tired. Unfortunately, Angela was in an even worse mood. "Where have you been? I thought you got off at six," she demanded, looking into the garage as the large door rolled down behind their cars. "We've already eaten dinner."
"Did you save me some?" he asked, picking up his shopping bag and stepping past her in the doorway.
"Yeah, there's a plate in the fridge. I would have kept it warm, but I didn't know if you had gone out to dinner with someone," she explained. "Did you go shopping?" she asked with envy, not moving from the hallway to the garage.
"I had to buy work boots," he answered, anxious to finish their argument and eat dinner.
"Do we still have money for groceries? I already had to dip into what you gave me for clothes shopping."
"Don't worry, I got an advance to cover them. What did you need money for?"
"Jen has been a holy terror all day. She's been picking on her brother, slamming doors, and talking back to me. I finally took the kids to the drug store and bought sanitary pads when I realized she's just hormonal. Of course, I had to get her some chocolate, and then Chris wanted candy, too."
Tony didn't want to hear about his daughter's period, so he ignored Angela and walked into the kitchen, retrieving a foil-covered plate of chicken, rice, and green beans from the fridge. He didn't bother to heat it up, demolishing the food within a couple of minutes.
"Hi Dad," Jonathan said, sidling up to Tony. "I'm really glad you're back. Jen is being a total b-i-t-c-h and Mom is, too."
"Don't use that word. Don't even spell it."
"Sorry," Jonathan said, looking down at his feet.
"Where's your grandma?"
"I don't know. She never came home."
Tony put his plate and fork in the dishwasher and washed off the sheet of foil. He bypassed Angela, who was reading a book on the couch, and went up to his daughter's room.
"What do you want?" she called when he knocked.
"It's me. Can I come talk to you?"
"Fine." When Tony opened the door, Sam was face-down on her bed. She had clearly been crying. He took pity on her and started rubbing her back. "I hate it here," she said.
"Why? What happened?"
"Nothing. I just don't want to be here. This isn't how I want to live."
"OK. I get it. You know, you're not the only one who feels that way."
"I had friends back home. You didn't leave your best friend."
"I'm sorry. Did something happen with Natalie?"
"No! I told you. I miss my old friends!" Sam screamed quietly into her comforter.
"I wish things were different, but you have to find a way to accept and move on. You'll make more new friends once you start school."
"I know." Sam sat up and hugged Tony. "Thanks for wanting to fix things, even though you can't."
"Did you thank Mom for taking you to the store and buying you chocolate?"
"No." She was ashamed that she hadn't even thought of it.
"Maybe you should go downstairs and thank her. You could apologize to Chris while you're at it."
"OK, Dad. Thanks for coming to see me. How was work?"
"Long day, but it's good."
"I'm glad," she said with a small smile before she took off down the stairs.
Tony removed his work clothes and started the shower. He was a little sore, and let the hot water run over him for several minutes before remembering they had a hot tub out back. He finished up and put on his swim trunks and a t-shirt. Angela was tucking Jonathan in and Sam had already closed herself off to the world until morning, so he pulled a couple of towels out of the linen closet and set them on the bed.
"Night, pal," he said, kissing Jonathan on the forehead as Angela got up from his bed. He turned off the light and closed the door.
"Thanks for talking to her," Angela said to Tony. "And I'm sorry for being so cranky with you when you first got home. It was a rough day."
"I appreciate you taking care of the kids and making dinner and saving me a plate and cleaning up the Christmas decorations…."
"You noticed," she said in awe.
"Yeah, I did," he replied. "I'm a little sore, and I was hoping you would join me in the hot tub."
"I don't have a swimsuit," she protested.
"Go in your bra and panties. It's dark out."
"You think I should?" she asked, intrigued.
"Come on. Live a little, baby," he encouraged her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She went into the bedroom, stripping down to her skivvies and wrapping a towel around her body, then holding the other towel in front of her like a shield. He led the way to the backyard and took the cover off the spa, finding the temperature perfect. "Hop in!"
A/N: See M-rated story "Bobby and Jess Take Things Further" "Chapter Two: Hot Tub" for the rest of the evening or feel free to skip it. No important plot details will reside in the M-rated chapters of this story. Just to warn you, the second chapter is less explicit than the first.