Pelican Bay Security

Chapter 6: Important Call?

Mario.

He's called repeatedly every day since I left. The constant interruptions to my GPS app added to my frustrations and made it difficult to forget him.

"There's signal here?" I yell the question back to Mack since we're the only two in the store.

I turn and he's rounding the shelves behind me. "Oh sure. It depends on the carrier, but when the weather conditions are right, the fog's burned off for the morning, the moon's in the East kind of thing, you can pick up a signal on this side of the store. It's half the reason the young kids come in here to buy pop every day."

Or ogle the hot guy. I don't think everyone is here for the pop or cell signal. Either way I hope it works out well for his business.

My phone rings, Uncle Cracker, "You Make Me Smile" playing through the store. I really need to change the song. Mario is not that guy anymore. There's no smiling when I remember him, only scowls. He's more of a "No Scrubs" by TLC guy at this point.

"Important call?" he asks.

With my head tipped up, I try to lose my crabby expression. "No. Definitely not." I swipe my fingers across the screen, turn the volume down, and stick the phone in my back pocket again. I'm ready to get home where I won't need to worry about whatever Mario plans to say.

"Do you have the key you need copied?" Mack holds his hands out and I give him my entire key ring, lost in his gorgeous eyes. "How many do you need?"

"Um... two?" I don't need copies at all, but it's the first thing I think of. I could leave one on the counter for Mack. Tell him he can use it whenever. OMG. I must stop thinking of the hardware guy sexually. Hardware guy. I laugh quietly in the corner and go back to selecting the perfect shade of blue.

The silence and my mellow are crushed by the loud grinding saw-like noise of metal on metal. My god it could peel paint or put a person with hearing aids into a coma. It's such a horrible obnoxious noise.

The piercing continues for another minute with a slight pause before starting up again. My ears ring when I approach the front desk area with my two paint samples. Sky blue for the bedroom and daisy yellow for the kitchen. There isn't much to do and I hope a fresh coat of paint will brighten up my new house and make it feel like home.

"Just these two colors? Do you need any rollers or paint pans?"

I stare at Mack while I process his question. Since the house is the exact colors it was ten years ago, the odds of finding any of those supplies in Gertie's basement are slim to none. "Probably."

He chuckles and then turns behind him selecting two gallons of paint and putting them under the machine to add color before mixing them up in a shaker box. "I'll grab you the essentials," he says before walking out from his counter.

I trail him because... well... it seemed like the thing to do when someone offers to pick you out supplies. Ha-ha, supplies.

Wait.

That's not even s****l. I mean I could make it s****l. I guess. If I really tried.

"Have you done much painting?"

"No." I'm not sure I've ever painted anything that wasn't part of high school art.

Mack nods his head at me like he expected the answer and then grabs an array of items off the shelf. "Well if you need any help, I have a son about your age. I'm sure he'd love to meet the pretty new girl in town."

An instant blush steals my cheeks. Pretty. Mack called me pretty. "Oh well, thanks. I'll keep that in mind." What? Like anyone would have a better response given the circumstances.

"Make sure you do. Riley's a good kid and I'm sure he'd have no complaints." Mack sends me another smile and I watch the wall behind him while he scans my purchases.

Flustered, I grab my wallet and hurry to swipe my credit card. It's a move borne from experience. I use my credit card to pay for everything. Of course it's a credit card provided by Mario. The machine beeps a few hundred times announcing to Mack and thank god the empty store my credit-not-approved status. Duh. Mario would have removed my name from the credit cards immediately after reading my note. I don't blame him.

It's why I took the cash.

But it's still embarrassing. No one wants to be called out by technology as broke. "I'm so sorry I'll call the company," I apologize to Mack with the lie.

"Do you have another card?"

Yes, but they were all provided by my ex. I thumb open the money portion of my wallet. To keep up appearances and all that crap. "I have cash." I tucked away a few hundreds earlier this morning. The rest of the stash is hidden in a secret drawer of Gertie's rolltop desk, a living room air duct, and a few other places through the house.

Mack hands me back less change than I expect from the hundred — I guess painting is expensive — and helps me load my purchases into the trunk of my car.

The drive home is simple. My phone vibrates for the last time as I cross over Main Street and I breathe a sigh of relief. There are three granola bars left from the box I purchased on my cross country road trip, and I gobble one down on the way. I'll need groceries by tonight, but the chocolate covered granola should last me a few hours.

My tires crunch over the gravel in the driveway and I'm pulling a gallon of paint from the trunk before I notice the person sitting on my front porch.

"You need help with that?"