Page 2 of Lady Luck’s Kiss
“Absolutely,” he said to Charlie as he swiped his credit card absently.
Charlie gave him his copy of the receipt and flipped off the open switch in the window.
“I will pull your car out of the shop and bring it around front for you,” she offered.
Seeing his nod, she waited for him to walk out the front door and set the deadbolt after him.
Walking through the room, she entered the shop and backed his car out.
Handing Carl the keys, she waved as he pulled away.
Charlie stood there a moment, as the warm breeze tickled her neck.
Streaks of orange were beginning to show up on the horizon as it would be dark soon.
Heading back inside of the large, open garage door, she yanked on the rope bringing the door down.
She slid the lock into place and walked back to the Camaro.
“It’s you and me tonight,” she said aloud and turned on her radio that was perched on the wall.
Picking up where she left off, she continued to clean up the engine compartment to prepare for the first start up.
As Charlie worked, she sang aloud to the variety of songs, glad there was no one in the waiting area to view her having fun.
The Camaro was in the air once again but, this time, it was to change the oil that had been contaminated by the head gasket repair.
Holding her shiny torque wrench, she belted out lyrics to Duran Duran’s Hungry Like the Wolf as she watched the oil drain from the car.
As the song wrapped up, she glanced outside the glass doors to see the sun had set and it was pitch black outside now except for the small glow coming from her sign at the street.
The deejay announced on the radio a contest for tickets to be given away and Charlie only listened haphazardly as she carefully set the oil level.
Too little could cause engine damage, too much would cause pressure on the gaskets resulting in a leak.
Unfortunately for her, there were few books about the Camaro available and she had bought what she could from eBay.
The rest was learned slowly over time during the last few years.
“Looking for caller ten that can answer this week’s question: What was the 1969 Indianapolis pace car? Caller ten will win a set of tickets to this week’s event and a cash prize.”
Charlotte grinned as she poured the last quart in and heard a few answers blare out over the radio. She wasn’t sure what the tickets were for but, apparently, they were good tickets! She picked up the phone and dialed, getting a busy signal. Hitting redial, she got another busy signal.
Charlotte hit redial once again and was surprised to hear it ringing on the other end of the line. Heart thumping, she heard a voice answer.
“You’re on the air! What’s your name?
“Charlotte,” she squeaked, shocked she had gotten through the line. Normally, she never even tried to enter contests because she swore that if she didn’t have bad luck, she would have no luck at all. Charlotte could not win a frozen turkey if her life depended on it.
“Charlotte, what car was the 1969 Indy pace car that year?”
“A Camaro.”
“That’s right! You got the tickets and prize, care to double it?” he challenged.
“Do I lose it if I miss the question?” she asked bluntly, knowing her luck.
“Nah,” he said drawing out the response. “But you could earn more.”
“Sure, how do I double it?” she asked accordingly.
“What color was the car?” he intoned and heard feedback. “Charlotte, turn down your radio in the background.”
She grabbed the knob and obliged as she was stunned by the simple question. The books she had ordered, one cover showed the Indy pace car on the front and that was how she had known the answer.
“Orange and white” she said carefully, surprised that she knew the answer.
“Exactly!” he cheered. “Congratulations, Charlotte! You can see a 1969 restored Indy pace car at the fairgrounds this weekend. Your tickets will be available at the front desk for pick up anytime tomorrow. Charlotte, stay on the line while we get some information. But for all the rest of you, enjoy this next song by a band that is also playing in concert in November in Houston.”
Charlotte clutched the phone as she cradled it to her head. She never won, ever. Certain this was a hoax, she waited patiently on the line expecting the call to go dead or something. Instead, a woman’s voice came on the phone and gathered all sorts of information from her.
When the woman started to rattle off directions to the station to pick up her winnings, Charlotte scrambled for a pen. Writing carefully on the desk calendar by the register, she circled the note carefully on the well-worn paper and stared at her writing as the call was finished.
She’d won!
She’d apparently won two-hundred-and-nine dollars, since the radio station was 104.
5 and she had doubled her winnings. It didn’t sound like much, but the money was welcomed and would be going into her slush fund.
The tickets, however, were another story.
She thought about selling them if she could but according to the woman on the phone, they were fantastic seats and Charlotte had never been to a bull riding competition.
There was a first time for everything apparently…it was a first for her to win and would be a first for her to see a bull riding competition. Perhaps her luck was changing for the better.
Did fate have a change of heart ? she thought and tossed the keys up in the air, catching them. Hopping in the Camaro, she put the key in the ignition and gave a silent prayer as she uttered one aloud.
“Please,” Charlotte whispered repeatedly. “Please, please, please!” as she shut her eyes, and turned the key. She cracked one eye open as she heard the engine struggle to turn over and then rumble to life. The roar from the exhaust was deafening as the monster engine gave way and surged.
“Yes!” she shouted, pounding her hands on the steering wheel in glee.
Studying the dials for a moment, she leapt out of the seat to inspect the engine block for any leaks.
Seeing none, she launched herself back inside of the car to check the gauges once again for any signs of a problem and promptly shut off the car so the carbon monoxide didn’t kill her before she got to drive the Camaro.
Charlotte was ecstatic that it started, but there were still a few minor things to be done before it could be driven.
Baby steps , she thought and danced around excitedly for a moment.
She would celebrate and treat herself to a cold beer, a hot bath, and a show!
Charlotte would use the tickets for herself and see if she could get someone to go with her.
Scrubbing her hands in the shop sink with pumice soap, she looked around and picked up a mop before heading in.
Running the mop over the concrete floors, she wrung it out and put it up to dry in the corner.
Going up the steps into the waiting area, she locked the shop door behind her and locked the register.
Throwing out a few magazines and wiping down the cushions on the chairs, Charlotte could not help the smile on her face.
For the moment, she felt like Lady Luck was on her side.
If it could stay this way for a week or two she would be thrilled.
It wasn’t that she had back luck, Charlotte had no luck at all.
It was as simple as that. She made her way and didn’t wait for things to drop into her lap.
This had always been her mantra and would remain that way.
But if something good were to happen to her, she’d take full advantage of it.
Turning off all the switches downstairs, she raced up the stairs to her little apartment above the garage. The open screen windows allowed a breeze even in the September evening.
Charlotte very rarely ran the A/C unless she absolutely had to.
Her job involved her working in the outdoors, and she rarely noticed the lack of cold air in the evenings after sweating all day.
Unzipping the coverall, she stepped out of it and put it in the hamper by the washer dryer combo that sat flush to the kitchen.
Charlotte grabbed a beer and headed towards the bathroom, padding along the carpet in her skivvies in the distinctly feminine room.
Floral cushions on the chairs, a small floral loveseat and a lace coverlet set the tone for the small apartment. Downstairs? Manly and businesslike! Upstairs? Womanly! she thought wryly as she flipped on a pink end table lamp giving off a soft glow to the room.
Living up to her self-made promise, Charlotte plunked a bath bomb into the tub with a flourish as the water ran. She proceeded to enjoy some well-deserved peace and quiet and reflect on the day’s events.