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Authors: KG MacGregor

Tags: #Gay & Lesbian

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BOOK: West of Nowhere
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“And with your ironed T-shirts.” She grinned, even though she doubted Joy could see her in the dark. “Funny how we fall into relationships just because they’re convenient. I never would have run off with Archie if he hadn’t been my only way out of town. As for Corey…let’s just call that a three-year mistake…or maybe a three-year lesson, because I won’t ever do that again.”

Not long ago, she’d written off as necessity her habit of hooking up with people just because they put a roof over her head. There was even a moment on her first night with Joy when she’d considered falling in bed with her if she’d asked. Now the idea was a shameful reminder that she needed to start taking responsibility for herself so she wouldn’t have to take on relationships she didn’t really want.

“I probably haven’t said it enough, but I really appreciate you giving me this chance. I don’t mean just picking me up off the side of the road. I feel like I’m finally doing something worthwhile and I have a chance to stand on my own two feet.”

“You’re doing a good job, Amber.” Left unsaid was the fact that she’d been doing a lousy job before their blowup. “Have you thought about what kind of work you want to do after this?”

“A little.” Up until a few days ago, she’d been looking for a job to replace this one, either when she got fired or quit in a huff. “I get on Shep’s computer sometimes when he’s asleep and look at what kinds of jobs are out there for somebody like me. There’s not a whole lot. The best part of this gig is it comes with room and board, and I don’t need a car to get to work. I found a couple of those live-in companion jobs, but they all say certified only. I don’t even know what kind of certification they’re talking about.”

“Probably CNA, Certified Nursing Assistant. One of the guys on my crew says his wife needed that for her job. I think she works at a nursing home.”

The problem with working at nursing homes or places like that was they didn’t pay enough to get by, at least not if you lived by yourself. She’d looked for apartments too, and there was hardly anything out there for under a thousand bucks a month, certainly nothing that would let her bring Skippy.

“I can’t believe how much people around here want for just a studio apartment.”

“Yeah, welcome to California. Property’s outrageous, and so are the taxes.”

“And if you look for a job in a place you can afford to live…hell, they don’t pay you as much, so you’re screwed either way.”

“There’s always school, you know. Alameda College is just right up the street.”

“What would I even study?”

“That’s up to you,” Joy said. “We talked about this on the road, remember? You’re going to be here for at least ten more weeks with Pop, probably till December. That’s more than enough time to sign up for a program you can finish at night or on the weekend. You can use Pop’s car, and I’ll sit with him on Saturday if you have to be there.”

The more Amber thought about it, the more the idea of taking classes piqued her interest. Getting specialized training meant she’d have a chance to work for smart people instead of the usual dolts who managed taco stands or convenience stores—and for better money.

“I suppose I could look at their website. I wonder how much something like that would cost?”

“I don’t know, but think of it as an investment. You have to put money into it if you want to get money out.” Joy stood and stretched, a sign she was ready to call it a night. “And just think of all the extra money you’d have if you—” She slapped a hand over her mouth.

“I heard that.” Amber scooted Skippy out of her lap and folded the blanket. “Better watch your step tomorrow morning. I didn’t see where Skippy went.”

“Oh, don’t worry. If he left me any presents, I’m sure I’ll find them.”

Amber chuckled at the mental image, which was easier to do now that she was fairly sure Joy stepping in dog shit wouldn’t turn her into a raging maniac. Their interactions had changed and were definitely more relaxed. Part of that was because Joy felt bad about losing her temper and basically calling her an idiot. The other part, she admitted, was because she had finally gotten off her ass.

Chapter Twelve
 

Joy returned the thumbs-up sign to Robbie, who had just disengaged the tow bar from the 737. When he hopped onto the back of her tug, she reversed to get a visual with the jet’s captain and told him through her radio headset that he was ready for departure. With that signoff, ST 1114 to Dallas now officially belonged to the tower.

Things were back to normal with her crew, who had aced a surprise safety inspection by the airline brass this morning.

“Man, I can’t believe it,” Robbie said as they coasted back to the gate. “Did you get a look at that flight attendant that brought out the oversized bags? Candace…wowza!”

“Can’t say as I did,” Joy said.

“You should have, because she was sure looking at you.”

“I wish you had poked me. I would have gotten her number.” A little flirting would feel pretty good right now, particularly if it got her mind off a certain houseguest.

Right there was part of the problem. Amber wasn’t a houseguest. She was an employee, and there were all sorts of reasons thinking about her so much was wrong. Joy’s instincts always called for her to save the damsel in distress, but saving Amber meant helping her learn to be independent, not taking advantage of her vulnerability. It was already showing in the changes she’d made just in the last week, which—coincidentally—just happened to be when Joy had begun to find her more interesting.

Joy’s pocket had vibrated while she was out on the tarmac and she expected to find a text message from Amber. Instead, it was a voice mail from Dani Hatcher, an invitation to meet for coffee the following week at the airport. She confirmed their date with a text, smiling to imagine the grief Dani would give her for picking up a stray on her way home from Virginia.

Speaking of that stray, Amber was taking her pop to the doctor today. With all four of her gates clear, Joy ducked into the break room to call for an update.

“They took his stitches out,” Amber said. “He wailed like a four-year-old with a scraped knee.”

“That’s his sympathy move. Must have been a pretty nurse nearby.”

“No, she was the doctor. Wish you could have seen her face. She looked at his shoulder, then his legs, and said, ‘Seriously?’ Then he told me to shut my piehole because I couldn’t stop laughing. Who says piehole anyway?”

Joy wished she had been a fly on the wall for that. “What about his shoulder?”

“Coming along, she said. No more sling, but he has to keep the brace on. And of course, when she was finished, he asked if it was okay to use his hand now to tie his shoes. She went for it, so I was glad to see I wasn’t the only idiot to fall for that.”

“You’re a good sport.” She giggled at the memory of Amber down on her stomach looking under the car. “Look, I’m going to be a little late. I have to pick up something. See you guys around four.”

She walked out to the tug, where Robbie handed her a pair of orange signal cones. “Sea-Tac’s coming in twelve minutes early and LAX is on time for a change,” he said.

“Great. Let’s hope they don’t fight over a parking spot.”

“I’ve got dibs on the flight attendant,” he yelled as he walked to his position on the wing. “With my luck, it’ll be Martin.”

Joy howled with laughter as she recalled Robbie going into hiding to avoid the gay flight attendant’s flirtations. “You could do a lot worse than a nice guy like Martin!”

It was a huge relief to have workdays back to normal with her crew. With things going smoothly at home also, that left only Madison to worry about. It wasn’t like her to do poorly in school, and Joy hoped the problem would straighten itself out when she got used to her new teacher.

At least Syd had stepped up as a parent when she got the teacher’s note. According to Madison, she’d set up time every night to go over homework. Syd usually did right by Madison when push came to shove, but Joy couldn’t fathom why things had to come off the rails before she paid attention to what the girl needed. A good parent was supposed to stay on top of the situation and anticipate when it was time to step in.

She groaned loudly, knowing no one could hear her given the rumble of the jet’s engines as it taxied toward the gate. Here she was again, letting her mind wander to something other than her job. If one of her crew had done that, she’d be all over them.

* * *

 

The yelling started the moment Joy walked through the back door.

“Will you tell this woman they’re my Goobers and I can eat them whenever the hell I want?” Her pop was sitting in his wheelchair with a barbell in his lap.

“You can have your stupid Goobers when you finish your stupid exercises,” Amber said indignantly.

“You hear that? She’s doling them out to me like I’m some kind of trained seal.” His usual crotchety voice was tinged with humor, making Joy wonder if the whole game had actually been his idea.

“Hurry up and finish, Pop. I need to talk to Amber about something.”

“You heard the woman,” Amber said. “Ten more reps and you’re done.”

With his elbow tucked against his side to immobilize his shoulder, he curled the dumbbell ten times, grunting the numbers as if in agony. When he finished, she dutifully counted out ten Goobers and put the others inside the refrigerator.

“Pop, are you okay by yourself if we go out to the camper for a little while? I’ll have my cell phone if you need anything.”

“Get me a clean shirt and a comb before you leave. Barbara’s coming over to watch the A’s game.”

Amber helped him get settled and teased him with the TV’s remote control before turning it over and following Joy out onto the deck. “Do I have time to grab a smoke?”

“Sure. Is he like that all day?”

“All day, every day. Fortunately, I have experience with three-year-olds in daycare.”

“He likes you. He wouldn’t kid around like that if he didn’t.”

“I like him too, and I wouldn’t either.” She lit a cigarette and turned her head to blow the smoke away. “What’s up? You wanted to show me something?”

“Yeah.” Joy held up a stack of booklets. “I went by the community college and picked up some catalogs and brochures. I thought you might want to look over the programs.”

“Ooh, let me see.” She took the thickest one and started thumbing through it.

“Come inside when you’re finished with that nasty—I mean, with your cigarette—and we’ll look at a few others on the web.”

While she was waiting for Amber, she pulled off her khaki uniform slacks and replaced them with jeans. Then she opened the package that had arrived in today’s mail, two yellow T-shirts with Big Stick stamped on the pocket. She was about to put one of them on when Amber stepped up inside the camper.

“Sorry. I didn’t know you were getting dressed.”

For nine years, Joy had shared showers and more with hundreds of women, so it made no sense at all that she suddenly felt modest about being seen by Amber in her bra. It also triggered her memory of the night in Wyoming when she’d secretly watched Amber undress as she readied for bed.

She slipped the shirt over her head and slid onto the bench behind the dinette, motioning for Amber to sit beside her. “No big deal.”

“I see you got your new shirt. I promised to pay for that, remember?”

“And I told you to forget it, remember?”

“Okay, but the least you can do is let me wash it for you. I think I have a cheap blue tank top from Malaysia that hasn’t been washed yet.”

“You’ve been hanging around Pop too long.” Joy spread the brochures on the table. “A couple of these schools offer vocational training and certification classes, and they aren’t that far away. The College of Alameda has a whole bunch of two-year programs, but that’s a big-time commitment. Not saying you shouldn’t do it, but it’s hard to go to school full-time and work a job on top of it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever lasted for two years at anything.” From her tone, it seemed more that she was voicing doubts than dismissing the idea completely. “Do they have a class I could do in a few weeks while I’m here? You know, some kind of certification like we talked about.”

“A few. There’s the CNA program—certified nursing assistant. Ten weeks, three hours every night and all day Saturday. That’s perfect for your schedule here.”

Amber studied the brochure, her face alight with interest. “It says CNAs are qualified for in-home care. That means I’d be qualified for another job just like this one, maybe even one with benefits.”

“That’s right. And the average salary in Alameda County for CNAs is thirty-six thousand. You probably wouldn’t make that much at first…more like in the twenties, but the longer you work, the more money you’ll make.”

“I could do this.” As she turned to the last page, her face fell. “But maybe not. What else do they have?”

Amber’s sudden lack of interest was puzzling, especially given her enthusiasm only a moment earlier.

“Well, they have a program for administrative assistants.”

“That’s like a secretary, isn’t it? I don’t think I’m very good at that sort of thing.”

“But the whole idea of going to school is learning how to be good at something.”

This time Amber flipped all the way to the back page of the brochure and began shaking her head. “No, they want people who are organized and I’m just not like that. I’d get fired the first day.”

Joy had more faith in Amber than that, especially after seeing what she was capable of when she set her mind to it.

“Okay, how about food service? There’s this food safety course you can take to be a certified food handler. Every single business in California that serves food needs to have at least one person with this kind of certification.”

“What would I have to do?”

“Looks like it’s just twenty hours of class and then you take a test. And then after you work for a few years, you can go higher than that and get certified as a food safety inspector.”

Amber scooped up all the brochures into a pile in the center of the table. “I can’t do any of these courses, Joy. All of them say you need a high school diploma. I didn’t finish. I ran away in February my senior year, and I never got my GED.” As she talked, her voice began to quiver, and her eyes misted with tears. “I’m never going to get a decent job.”

BOOK: West of Nowhere
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