8 Weeks (Time for Love 1)

“This is my wife, TJ, not some one-night stand. I’m not looking for a quick lay, I’m trying to get my marriage back.” My voice began to rise as I finished my sentence, and my mom cleared her throat behind us, indicating that she could hear us. “Just forget about it,” I spat out.

“Cal, I’m sorry, man, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” TJ replied. “You and Shelly are gonna work it out.”

Scott nodded and clapped me on the back. “You’re gonna get her back.”

The game was starting, so we turned to the field.

I stood up and clapped, shouting as Craig rounded the bases after hitting a triple.

“He’s so good,” Scott said with a grin as he put his fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle.

“Yeah, he’s going to go far,” I said with pride. “He’s not destined to be a grease monkey, I can tell you that.”

“Hey,” TJ responded. “Nothing wrong with turning a wrench.”

“Shit, I know that, but it’s not the most dependable way to earn a living,” I said wryly. TJ made a face and took a pull of his root beer.

Our shop was in a bit of a slump. We weren’t getting as many appointments as usual, and walk-in business hadn’t been good. It looked like we were about to get fewer hours, which wasn’t good news for TJ or myself.

“Speaking of which, you remember my buddy Brock?” TJ asked.

“From the west side store?” I asked. TJ had started out years ago at a store on the other side of town, before he’d moved to work in the shop with me.

“Yeah,” TJ confirmed. “He left a couple years ago and started his own painting business. It’s been going pretty good. He said if I needed the cash, he could bring me in for some jobs. I’m gonna start next week. If you’re interested, I can throw your name in.”

I’d never been a painter, but if we were losing hours at the shop, I’d need to pick up a paycheck wherever I could. “Sounds good, thanks.”

“Brock is the dude that was hitting on Gaby at the New Year’s Party a couple years back, right? The stupid masquerade one at the bar?” Scott asked with a frown.

“Yup, that’s him,” TJ said with a chuckle. “Dude is smooth with the ladies.”

I remembered the party that Scott was talking about. Shelly and I had gone dressed in all black, with black masks. Scott was right, it had been a ridiculous party theme, but the girls had liked it, and Shelly looked totally hot. We’d ended up sneaking into the backroom and having sex on the manager’s desk. I smiled at the memory. I also remembered how much Brock had seemed to piss Scott off that night.

I turned to ask him about it, but the sound of my mom going crazy behind me had me turning to the field instead. I looked up in time to see the ball Craig had hit sail over the fence, and see his grin as he jogged slowly around the bases.

My mom was going apeshit. I turned to her with a laugh and said, “Calm down, Killer, you’re going to embarrass him.”

My mom turned to me, her face flush with pleasure, and said, “Oh … Shush.” Then she started clapping and screaming Craig’s name even louder.

I laughed at her exuberance, and joined in the cheering.

Once we’d calmed down, I nudged Scott and asked, “Hey, I remember that night. You and Brock seemed to get off on the wrong foot. What was that about?”

Scott kept his eyes on the game and replied, “Nothing. I just thought he was an ass. No big deal. It was a long time ago.”

“An ass?” TJ asked, surprised. “Brock is one of the most laid-back guys I know. I don’t remember you guys even talking that night. He’s a good dude.”

Scott shrugged and said, “Like I said, it was a long time ago. I’m sure he’s cool.”

I wondered what the real issue was. Scott wasn’t usually quick to judge, and he was a pretty easygoing guy himself. Usually got along with everyone. Maybe if TJ and I started working with Brock, we’d invite him to hang out sometime. I was sure that he and Scott would get along great, if they just took a minute to get to know each other.

I glanced at TJ. He looked like he was relaxed and enjoying the game, but I knew the troubles at the shop were getting to him. Not only did he love working there, but he lived in a little apartment off the back of it, so if things got as bad as the boss had implied and the place closed for a while, TJ was worried that he’d not only be out of a job, but that he’d also be out of a place to live.

TJ’d been raised by his grandparents, and they’d both passed away about a year before. They hadn’t had money, and the house they’d lived in for their fifty-plus years of marriage had been mortgaged to the hilt, and TJ hadn’t been able to save it. Stability was very important to TJ now, since he’d never had it as a child, and I really hoped that our boss was going to be able to keep his business afloat … for TJ’s sake. Yeah, I was worried about keeping the job myself, but TJ had worked hard to be where he was now, and I hated to think of him being forced to take a step back.

“You good?” Scott asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah, brother,” I responded with a smile.