decided the shop could use an infusion of young blood, and told him I’d give him a shot.
Nick had to give two weeks’ notice and was supposed to start late next week. In the meantime, Mac and I had been working a lot of twelve hour days. Mac wasn’t complaining; he’d finally broken down and bought the Harley Davidson he’d always wanted. A SuperLow 1200T. It was a pretty sweet ride, I had to admit. As stressed as I was, Mac seemed to thrive in the midst of our slammed workload. He’d always been an adrenaline junkie (both the twins were) and he was getting to spend more time with his son, Malcom Jr. There seemed to be a temporary truce between him and his loony ex-wife. Probably because he was able to pass her a little extra cash beyond the court ordered child support.
Francis got a big bonus from me and was spending his free time shopping for a used car. He’d also begun to pay rent, though I’d told him on numerous occasions that his apartment across the hall from ours was a perk of the job. Things got a little heated when I initially refused to take his money. When I tried to cut the conversation off, he switched tactics and pulled Molly into the argument.
“She’s going to have to quit working for a while, Joe. Even if it’s just for a few months after the babies are born. You need to start putting something away for that eventuality.”
This stopped me in my tracks, and I had no rebuttal. Francis may have lost his way for a while, but he’d always struck me as having uncanny insight. He had a solid foothold on his life again, and who was I to deny him the opportunity to pitch in? The diligent expression he wore as he watched me consider was what actually made me cave. I remembered all too well what it was like to feel like a burden. That dark period of my life was behind me now and I saw just how badly he wanted to put distance between himself and his. So I folded and agreed to let him pay me three hundred dollars a month for rent. Francis cackled at that.
“You can’t get a studio in Austin for that, let alone a remodeled two bedroom.” He tilted his head and opened his mouth to counter. “Maybe I should ask Molly what she—
I cut him off. “It’s my building, not Molly’s. Three hundred dollars or nothing. Take it or leave it.”
Francis was a smooth talker; it’s what I paid him for. But after several years of living on the streets, he had developed excellent survival instincts. He could tell I was a man on the edge and didn’t seem like he was anxious to push me off. It didn’t take an expert like Dr. Greene to see I was about to go insane.
Molly and I had been franticly house hunting nightly for the past three weeks. To say it wasn’t going well was a major understatement. Molly had always been a handful, but trying to agree on a house gave us all new and interesting things to argue about.
At first, Molly approached the subject of moving with extreme caution. I couldn’t blame her. I’d been in the apartment above the shop since Jess and Jack died At first it was because I couldn’t stand to be in the house I’d remodeled for Jess and being surrounded by her things broke my already mangled heart. Then, I discovered that my late wife had been embezzling from me, and selling the place had become a necessity.
Finding out Jessica had been lying to me the entire time we’d been together destroyed what little faith I had left. Robbed blind by my own wife. It had been humiliating and embarrassing, but it also made me mourn for my memories that I now dissected like some sort of amateur archeologist. It would have been better to have had the illusion that I’d lost my soul mate than the certainty that I’d been living a lie.
Then I found out I wasn’t even special in the regard of her treachery. Jess had been a successful C.P.A and she’d “borrowed” money from several of her clients as well to pay off her various gambling debts. When she was no longer around to keep the plates
Nick had to give two weeks’ notice and was supposed to start late next week. In the meantime, Mac and I had been working a lot of twelve hour days. Mac wasn’t complaining; he’d finally broken down and bought the Harley Davidson he’d always wanted. A SuperLow 1200T. It was a pretty sweet ride, I had to admit. As stressed as I was, Mac seemed to thrive in the midst of our slammed workload. He’d always been an adrenaline junkie (both the twins were) and he was getting to spend more time with his son, Malcom Jr. There seemed to be a temporary truce between him and his loony ex-wife. Probably because he was able to pass her a little extra cash beyond the court ordered child support.
Francis got a big bonus from me and was spending his free time shopping for a used car. He’d also begun to pay rent, though I’d told him on numerous occasions that his apartment across the hall from ours was a perk of the job. Things got a little heated when I initially refused to take his money. When I tried to cut the conversation off, he switched tactics and pulled Molly into the argument.
“She’s going to have to quit working for a while, Joe. Even if it’s just for a few months after the babies are born. You need to start putting something away for that eventuality.”
This stopped me in my tracks, and I had no rebuttal. Francis may have lost his way for a while, but he’d always struck me as having uncanny insight. He had a solid foothold on his life again, and who was I to deny him the opportunity to pitch in? The diligent expression he wore as he watched me consider was what actually made me cave. I remembered all too well what it was like to feel like a burden. That dark period of my life was behind me now and I saw just how badly he wanted to put distance between himself and his. So I folded and agreed to let him pay me three hundred dollars a month for rent. Francis cackled at that.
“You can’t get a studio in Austin for that, let alone a remodeled two bedroom.” He tilted his head and opened his mouth to counter. “Maybe I should ask Molly what she—
I cut him off. “It’s my building, not Molly’s. Three hundred dollars or nothing. Take it or leave it.”
Francis was a smooth talker; it’s what I paid him for. But after several years of living on the streets, he had developed excellent survival instincts. He could tell I was a man on the edge and didn’t seem like he was anxious to push me off. It didn’t take an expert like Dr. Greene to see I was about to go insane.
Molly and I had been franticly house hunting nightly for the past three weeks. To say it wasn’t going well was a major understatement. Molly had always been a handful, but trying to agree on a house gave us all new and interesting things to argue about.
At first, Molly approached the subject of moving with extreme caution. I couldn’t blame her. I’d been in the apartment above the shop since Jess and Jack died At first it was because I couldn’t stand to be in the house I’d remodeled for Jess and being surrounded by her things broke my already mangled heart. Then, I discovered that my late wife had been embezzling from me, and selling the place had become a necessity.
Finding out Jessica had been lying to me the entire time we’d been together destroyed what little faith I had left. Robbed blind by my own wife. It had been humiliating and embarrassing, but it also made me mourn for my memories that I now dissected like some sort of amateur archeologist. It would have been better to have had the illusion that I’d lost my soul mate than the certainty that I’d been living a lie.
Then I found out I wasn’t even special in the regard of her treachery. Jess had been a successful C.P.A and she’d “borrowed” money from several of her clients as well to pay off her various gambling debts. When she was no longer around to keep the plates
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