Strapped

Strapped Part 1

Rocky Mountain Way by Joe Walsh was playing through the speakers of the radio, permeating all around the open-planned apartment. Nikki-Lynn bobbed her head and tapped her steel-toed boot against the other in time to the beat of the music. With her short legs crossed over the other sitting atop the multi-purpose table between the kitchen and living room with her glasses perched in the middle of her nose, she was threading a needle effortlessly through the material of the coveralls she was fixing. A clank or a high-pitched squeal from an air tool occasionally would filter up through the old wooden floor and into the apartment, momentarily pulling Nikki's focus as she sewed her coveralls. Fifteen years ago, Nikki-Lynn and her father, Darren, had gone into business together and opened up a small, vehicle repair shop. It was no booming business compared to the larger competitors in the big city, but it managed to stay afloat the decade and a half it'd been in business. After Darren retired two years ago, leaving the business to his daughter, and with a steady stream of reliable customers, Nikki was quite confident she'd follow in her father's footsteps and retire here as well. At the age of 37 with no spouse or kids, her life was pretty much an open book, and it was just how she'd always lived. No responsibilities other than her own, no one to commit to or answer to, and no sharing. Other than the occasional discretion she brought home, Nikki loved her solitude and she loved not having to share her bed even more.

"Thread the needle, thread the needle," she softly repeated to the gaping hole in the crotch of the coveralls as it slowly closed with each pull. Her movements abruptly stopped when she heard the door to the shop downstairs open and shut. Nikki's apartment sat directly above the garage with two doors, one opening into the shop and the other out onto the street.

"Yo! Where you at?"

Nikki smirked and shook her head when she heard her best friend, Mickey, bounding up the stairs.

"In here," she called out.

Mickey reached the top of the stairs then turned and walked the few steps down the short hallway and into the opened apartment. She quirked an eyebrow when she spotted Nikki and crossed her arms over her chest then leaned against a wooden beam. "Hey, granny, have you seen Nikki anywhere?"

Nikki stuck the end of the needle between her lips and pushed up her glasses with her middle finger directed at Mickey. "Other than insulting me, whad'ya want?" As she slowly pulled the thread through the material, her eyes followed Mickey as she took a seat at the table. She asked herself a question she couldn't seem to stop asking.

Why had we never hooked up?

Mickey was a fine specimen standing at six-feet with blonde, deep, wavy hair, always worn wildly. Mickey was never one to be feminine, only dressing simply in pants, shirts, and boots. The motorcycle she rode only added to her allure.

Mickey crossed her long legs over the other as she sat back against the chair and tapped her fingers on the tabletop. "What're your plans later?"

Nikki shrugged. "Finish work then get some supper. Nothin' too wild." That last statement fizzled out faster than a Canada Day sparkler as she thought back to some of the nights she and Mickey had had when they went bar hopping looking for a quick buzz and an easy lay. Nikki and Mickey have been friends since elementary school. They shared many types of first times together from getting their periods, trying on bras, kissing boys only to discover they both preferred girls, to broken hearts and broken cherries. While both had graduated high school, Nikki ended up trudging through life going from job to job and bed to bed until her father's offer to partner up was presented. Meanwhile, Mickey landed a manual labor job with the city shortly after graduating and has been with them ever since.

More tapping from Mickey making Nikki take notice of her friends' sudden and abnormal apprehension. She stared at Mickey for a moment before returning to her sewing, thinking Mickey would eventually just come out with it. After another minute of tapping, Mickey stood up and walked into the kitchen. "Got any beer?" she asked as she opened the fridge and leaned over to scan the items.