Storm Watch 02.04 – Inevitability

*****

            Rosita pushed her long
jet black hair out of her face, and then she blew the last stray strand from
her face as she wrenched the brake line back into place.  She left a small smudge of grease against her
dark olive cheek. 

            It was late she was
hot and severely hungry, her stomach insisting on food as she worked on the
car.  Anything for Oscar,
the man with a plan, thought Rosita to
herself.  Ro to her friends none of which
she spoke to very often, her life was packed full of other things to do.  Work mainly during the summer months.  Then school during the year, and still she
took on high paying jobs during the semester. 
Life didn’t pay for itself.

            Oscar
had called his friend Tina‘s brakes had failed
and she needed her car.  Could she
help?  When had she ever said no to him,
never.  Only once, but that had been ages
ago.  She loved Oscar
like a brother.  She also admired the man
from head to toe.  The things he did for
the people he believed in, and she was one of those people.

            Rosita was singing
softly to herself as she rolled out from under the car, the creeper stopped and
she took a long deep breath.  ***** she
needed a life; she was 25 and still working her ***** of all summer in the same
garage that she’d been working in since she was 5.  Life is just never about change, it’s about
staying the same. 

            “How is my beautiful
daughter?”  Her father Manny Navarro
stepped into the barely lit garage and Rosita smiled her full luscious lips
curling to the left.  The same dark eyes
as her father’s met his gaze.

            “She’s hungry
Papi.”  Rosita hitched herself up onto
her elbow, seeing the great suit that her father was wearing.  She loved that he came to visit still dressed
for work.  He’d gotten out of the car
business a few years before he was now a music producer.  He even played back up on some studio music
and when he could he’d have Rosita do the same having taught her how to play
the guitar when she’d been very young. 
Music had always been his passion; cars had been what had fed them in
between.

            “Want to go out?  I can take my daughter to a place where there
is food?  They do serve food in LA bebe
chica.”  He asked his accent thicker than
hers, yet he molded his words so that he didn’t sound as Latino as he could
have.  An affect of now working in the
‘biz’ as he said every so often and Rosita knew he’d worked hard to get where
he was right now.