Read Unfinished Business - Barbara Seranella for Free Online Page A

was
standing behind her when she removed his tires. The brakes were a
mess. Both drums were scored too deeply to salvage, the retaining
springs were ruined, and the wheel cylinders needed rebuilding. New
brake drums cost a hundred dollars each. The whole bill came to just
under four hundred. When she delivered the news, D.W. cried. Not big
heaving sobs or anything, but tears had definitely filled his eyes.
She looked away until he composed himself. She knew it was a fair
amount of change, but c'mon, this was business, and he should have
heard the grinding metal noise every time he stepped on the brakes.
Had he caught it in time, he would have saved himself the expense of
the extra hardware.
    Munch and her fellow mechanics, Carlos and Stefano,
always put their initials on the work orders so that the correct
monies would be credited to their pay. They also made a game out of
each other's monograms. Munch's M.M. became "Motor Maid."
    Carlos's initials were C.K., so he was rightly dubbed
the "Come-back King". Stefano was S.B., "Show Boat,"
although there were times she wanted to insert an O in the middle and
let him figure it out. It was only natural to come up with
alternatives for D.W. After the brake-and-tear incident she had begun
to think of him as "Darth Whiner."
    His reaction had also served to kill any spark of
romantic attraction she might have felt for the guy. Not that she was
actively looking. She already had the thing going with Garret. She
also knew better than to get involved with any guy around the
workplace. Especially knowing how guys will talk. She'd worked too
hard to match her reputation to her license plate: LDY MECH. She had
already perfected the slightly offended look when a stranger cursed
in front of her. And if one of the guys at the shop started to tell a
dirty joke, she walked away before he finished, shaking her head
after the first line was uttered. The old Munch would have stayed
tuned until the punch line and laughed the hardest. The old Munch had
done a lot of stupid things. She was working her way up to the moment
when she could slap the face of a man getting "fresh." Like
they did in those old black-and-white movies when the ladies used to
wear white gloves and all the men wore hats.
    Other than Lou, none of the guys she worked with now
knew anything about the wild part of her life. Most of them didn't
even know about her not drinking or getting high. And even fewer knew
that the qualifier "anymore" belonged in that statement of
fact. They knew her as hardworking. Money hungry some of them said,
but that was just jealousy talking. They all worked on commission and
if she could do more jobs faster she made more. Didn't take Einstein
to figure that out. Besides, she had a kid to support. A little girl
with a bright future that would never include her debasing herself.
Not while Munch was alive to prevent it. A lot of things were going
to be different for Asia.
    She looked at her visitor now and sighed. D.W. was
nice enough, although too sensitive for her tastes. She liked her men
a little more in touch with their masculine side, maybe to counter
some of her own rough edges.
    Sometimes D.W. showed up midday and ate his lunch
while he watched her work. It looked as if today was going to be one
of those days.
    "Want an apple?" he asked.
    She noticed the Meals-On-Wheels placard on his
dashboard.
    "Thanks," she said, taking the fruit, and
hoping he hadn't ransacked anybody's box lunch to get it.
    "I can't stay," he said. "I've got
three more deliveries to make."
    "It's really nice of you to do this," she
said.
    "Yeah," he said, "I figure it's so
little effort on my part for the help I give to those less
fortunate."
    Cue the halo, Munch thought. "How long does your
route take?"
    "Only about an hour and a half. All my shut-ins
are in the same general area. It's hard to just leave the food and
split though. With a lot of these people you're the only human
contact they have in a day. They want you to stay