Hang Tough(87)
“Oh yeah.”
“Damn. Now I’m wishing I would’ve gone out on a date with him.”
“Too late.”
“Staking your claim already?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good for you.” She held the bottle over for another toast. “How’s granny feel about the two of you doing the deed in her house?”
“GG went on a last-minute cruise with her buddy Pearl. So she doesn’t know that Tobin and I got together. She’s under the impression that we don’t like each other.”
“How long is she gone?”
“Three weeks.”
Riss whistled. “You two are gonna get used to playing house and then what happens when granny comes home and doesn’t like it?”
“I don’t know.” Jade drummed her fingers on the table. “For the first time in my life? I’m living in the moment.”
“Attagirl. That’s how I live every moment of my life.”
“I don’t believe that.” When Riss’s brows drew together, she backtracked. “I didn’t mean for that to come out so harsh. I meant you’re part of a business, so you can’t just say, ‘I don’t feel like delivering these baby cows today. I’ll leave them in the semi while I go to the movies.’”
“Baby cows are called calves, New York. I schedule runs, but they have to be worth my time. I know guys in this business who barely break even. That’s why I walked away for a few years.” Riss leaned back in her chair. “What about you?”
“I did fill out an application for the prep cook job at the Split Rock.”
“Tobin was okay with that?”
“Very okay.”
“Told ya. You’ll love it up there. Everyone who works there does. Multiple part-time jobs are the norm around here. Most people have more than one job.”
“What else do you do besides drive stock transport and . . . ?” She gestured to Riss’s overalls.
Riss grinned. “Why yes, I am a lube jockey. Thanks for asking.”
“You work on cars?”
“I’m not a mechanic. I change oil. It’s not a full-time job. Guys with families to feed get priority over me. I’m good with that.”
“Maybe it’s clichéd to ask, but are you happy?”
“It’s been a long time since anyone has asked me that. Most days? Yes. Would I be happier if I was twenty pounds thinner, if I could upgrade from my dumpy trailer? Thinner . . . eh. A better living environment is already on my list of improvements.”
“Scenario one: lube jockey boss says, ‘Riss, I need you full-time. This is your salary. It’s enough that you can quit transporting stock completely.’ Scenario two: Ike says, ‘Riss, I need you full-time. This is your salary. It’s enough that you can quit your lube-jockey job.’”
“Which do I pick? I’d work for Jackson Stock Contracting.” She scowled. “It means working with Ike all the freakin’ time, but I’d still take it.”
“Why?”
“Although the job is the same, the people are different. I’m not in the same place. With the lube jockey job . . . it’s stable. That’s all some employees look for, so they’re a better fit, which is why I have no problem bein’ part-time.” Riss stretched her legs out. “So how’d we get on the hard-hitting life stuff and not the ‘how hard did you hit that’ sex stuff?”
“You poking me about my future plans.” Jade smirked. “But it does have relevance. I had an interesting call right before you got here from the Casper Symphony director.”
“No shit? What did he want?”
“To know if I plan to be around for the season and if I’d be interested in auditioning.”
“Would you?”
“Maybe. Would it be worth it? The money is lousy in music performance in New York; I can’t imagine it’d be good here.”
“But you have to look at it as an opportunity to make local contacts. If you meet other musicians you could end up in a quartet with them. That’s a paying gig. You meet someone else whose kid wants lessons? That’s a paying gig.”
“True.”
“Since so much shit is up in the air right now, I’ll throw in my two cents. I’d take you on as a roommate if everything with Tobin goes to the dogs.”
“Thanks, Riss. That means a lot.”
She finished her cider. “Now if you could learn to play that violin like a fiddle . . . you’d have your pick of gigs in Western bars across four states.”
“You do know there’s no difference between instruments, right? They’re the same. Even Itzhak Perlman calls the Stradivarius he plays his fiddle.”