Page 9 of Truck

When I hear groaning from behind me, I turn my head and chuckle when I see Spencer red-faced with veins bulging in his neck. The strain of lifting a large fridge with Robert, who I notice, is nearly as bad.

“Why didn’t you two ask for help?” I roll my eyes at them, which makes Ian chuckle. We all have gained the habit from Cilla, who seems to have perfected it for any occasion.

Spencer and Robert push the fridge into place, then stand with their hands on their hips, panting from the exertion. Robert surprises me when he asks me. “What do you want for lunch? I’m going to buzz over to the diner.”

“Lunch! Christ is it that time already?” I look at Ian who nods before rubbing his belly comically. “Bring whatever you think, Robert.” I take out a wad of notes, then add, “Bring enough for Rum, too.”

While we wait for Robert to return with lunch, we build three more sections of shelving and place what we have built to date into position. We have a long way to go, but it’s starting to take shape. The new counter we’ll build ourselves, that’s so it’ll fit exactly where we want it.

When Robert returns, we all, including Rum, step outside and sit on a picnic bench that Spencer found around the back. He cleaned it up and placed it near the side door to the office. The sandwiches and other pastries that Robert brought are just what we need, and I think Shelby is stocking food that she knows we like when we can’t eat inside the diner. We must be money-making customers for her, because we eat there now more than we eat at the clubhouse during lunchtime.

Robert, through a mouthful of turkey sandwich announces. “There’s a new woman serving at the diner, apparently. She’s new to town, lost her husband, and is having a new start. She’s doing the graveyard shift with Shelby. Apt, don’t you think?”

Rum shakes his head. “You could say that. But be respectful. Losing a husband or wife is nothing to joke about.”

“Sorry, Rum,” Robert quickly says, and he looks as if he sickened himself with his own last comment.

“Did she look okay?” Rum asks Robert, while watching closely for Robert’s reaction.

Robert takes a moment before answering. “She looked tired. But apart from that, she wasn’t looking bad. But she has just moved here, so maybe she’s been packing, unpacking and driving. You know the general shit that comes with moving house.”

“I’m sure we’ll all meet her at some time. Let’s get back to work. We’ve a shit ton to get through with deliveries arriving tomorrow,” I grumble as I pick up the trash and throw it in the can near the door. “Don’t forget to empty that at the end of the day, prospect.” I say it that way, so they know any of them can do it, as long as it’s done.

Through the afternoon we get the fridges, freezers, and the bulk of the shelving placed. In the morning, we should finish the rest ready for building the counter while we wait for the deliveries.

Rum, after finishing orders and organizing things in the office, swept out the storeroom and wiped the shelving, declaring it quite satisfactory for what we needed. I’m thinking that is a blessing because we have so much to do it would have been crap to have all that to replace too.

“Have you finished in the office, Rum?” I ask as I lean against the office door frame.

Rum is picking up his jacket from where it was hung on the back of the office chair. “Yes. Once Spencer finished painting and cleaning the floor, I pushed everything where we needed it. The office is fully operational now. We just need to buy a printer and a computer system. This laptop isn’t going to do the job for the long haul.”

“Don’t worry about computer stuff. Keys is coming over and setting everything up. He’ll have it automated so everything we sell will show as being needed for reordering. He’ll add a lot of security cameras inside and outside. Last thing we want is thieving bastards taking our profits.”

“That’s good. I’m not good at setting up any form of system. I can learn how to input and all of that, but the initial setup…nope, that’s not my thing.” Rum shrugs and gives me a pat on the shoulder as we both turn and leave the office.

“Come on, prospects. Let’s get closed up and head back to the clubhouse. My stomach thinks my throat's been cut. I hope whoever is cooking tonight did a lot because I reckon we could eat a horse between us,” I throw out as I grab my jacket hanging from a hook on the back of the storeroom door.

“Ready Truck? Just waiting for Robert to empty the trash can outside,” Ian climbs into the truck as he speaks. “Long day and ready to head back.”

“Yeah, me too, Ian,” I respond and wait for Robert and Spencer to climb into the truck. I see Rum checking that the front doors are locked, and when he gives me a thumbs-up sign, I give him a nod.

Three days later…

Cap walks into the convenience store area and slaps me on the shoulder. “What the fuck do you want, Cap?” I snap because I’m tired and sick to the back teeth of filling shelves and taking deliveries, which means carrying boxes from one place to another.

On top of that, Ian is down with a sprained wrist and ankle from falling off the damn semi-truck that brought deliveries. I was pleased the bulk was coming from the same place but shit I didn’t envision that much stuff. I was, however, pleased that Ian only hurt his ankle and wrist because his head missed the corner of the semi by a fraction of an inch.

“I’ve spoken to Xero, Collins, and Mitchell. They are floating in the wind, so to speak. Nothing to do and nowhere to go. That’s Xero’s take on things, and I asked if they fancied coming and giving you a hand, along with Bull and the recovery part of the building,” Cap is watching me closely.

“I’m going to take Ian on as soon as he makes full brother with Pres’ go-ahead. At any time, an extra pair of hands is good. We have a lot to do inside and outside. I was going to hire a landscaping company, but when Rum told me what they charged, I told him it wasn’t happening. If they want to come and help, then I’m for it. Where will they stay?”

Cap frowns, “Shit, you don’t want to be paying out your ass for grass and shit. I’m sure you’ll make use of Xero, Collins, and Mitchell. Just throw jobs at them. As for where they’ll live? I’ll ask Pres if he is okay with them being at the clubhouse.”

“There is that place on Newberry Street. You know the one Mrs. Ambles rents out? It’s vacant right now. I only know ‘cause I rode past last week. That’s a three-bedroom place so would suit, and it could come as part of their salary deal,” I rub my chin thinking that is closer to here than the clubhouse so may be better.

“That would be ideal. Do you want me to put it out to Xero and ask Pres about picking up the lease from Mrs. Ambles?”

Nodding, I say, “Well, I’m sure he will see them as prospective brothers.” I don’t hold back the smirk at my comment, and Cap smirks along with me because we both know Pres is looking for brothers that are worth having now, he’s cleaned out the rot.