Page 52 of Shattered Dreams

The boys looked between themselves and Harrison looked up with mischief all over his face. “Can I have a job?”

“Well.” She narrowed her eyes. “What qualifications do you have?”

“What’s qual …fition?” Tyler tilted his head.

“What skills do you have? Do you sweep? Are you good at matching numbers? Do you dust?”

“Tea!” Briar yelled, clapping her hands.

“My sweet princess, come here.” Libby motioned for her to come behind the counter.

I walked over and sat Emma on the cold wood as I saw a small table, set with a play tea set, doll, and Oreos.

Briar’s eyes lit up, and she gazed at Libby. “Me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She turned her head, and her eyes swept over the boys. “Well, gentlemen, do you know what you can do?”

“I can sweep.” Harrison nodded.

“I’s good wif numbers.” Grady puffed up his chest.

Tyler shrugged. “I’ll dust.”

“Well, in that case. What’s your favorite colors?” She walked over to a doorway that led to the breakroom.

“Blue!” Grady and Tyler yelled together.

She tilted her head. “Harrison?”

“It’s stupid.” He looked down at his feet.

“Boys? What’s his favorite color?” Libby was all business.

“Pink.” Grady looked over at his brother. “Dad told him he was a faggot for liking pink.”

“Grady!” My jaw fell open.

“Well, Grady, I can tell you that your father is mistaken.” She went over to a shelf that had tee shirts organized by sizes. “Anyone can like any color they want. And your dad is a jerk for using such a nasty word.” She took out two different blue ones and handed one to the younger boys, then pulled out a neon pink shirt. “Harrison? Do you like this shade? Or would you like to pick from some of the other shades of pink?”

“I love it!” He beamed at her. “Thank you.”

“Good. Get your shirts changed so I can give you a tour and put you to work.” The office phone rang, and she looked at me. “Jo, can you get that? Price list and appointment book are there.”

Confusion filled me as I went to answer the phone, and the kids changed. I set Emma down on the carpeted floor and watched as she led the boys to the shop.

“Grease Monkeys, this is Jo.”

“I need to see if you have someone there who works on old Pontiacs.” A male voice filled my ear, and I looked down at the girls. “Let me put you on hold for a moment.”

Walking around the counter, I went to the door between the shop and the office. Jeremy walked towards me.

“Hey, Jo.” He smiled and veered to go into the breakroom.

“Jeremy, do any of you work on old Pontiacs?”

“That’s me.” He swerved and followed me through the door to the phone.

“This is Jeremy.”

---