Nate (A Texas Jacks Novel)

by Unknown

  “Oh? And how’s that?” Anson pipes up, wanting to get the dirt on our sister, probably so he can tease her for the rest of her life. You know brothers, always up for some good embarrassing stories to blackmail you with later.

  Anson is an awesome brother and our biggest protector, but don’t give him any ammunition to use against you. He will exploit it at full force. He’s quite the funny man, but can still be a big old softy, like our dad. In addition to personality, he takes after our dad with his good looks and hazel eyes. He’s a hard worker, and often finds himself down at the beach on the weekends, trying to catch a wave, leaving his skin kissed with a golden brown color from the sun.

  “Don’t you dare tell him, Greg!” Lindsay laughs. No way does she want any fodder for our brother to rib her with later.

  “Oh come on, we won’t laugh,” Bethany says with a conspiratorial wink thrown our way. Oh yeah, like that will stop us from howling like hyenas at our poor sister.

  “Nope, we would never laugh or make fun of you. Our lips are zipped,” Rachel throws in.

  “All right, everyone, settle down. Let Greg share his story, and we promise, Lindsay, we won’t laugh. No matter what. Right children?” Mom, ever the diplomat and peacemaker.

  Jen’s light brown eyes meet my deep blue ones on an exaggerated roll, and we both laugh a little bit before we look back at my sister and Greg.

  “Fine. You want to know what happened? I’ll tell you what happened,” Lindsay says. “I had my arms full of documents that I needed for our meeting. I was trying to juggle the papers, my bottled water, and send a text to my assistant, all at the same time. I didn’t want to be late, so I was multitasking. Anyway, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking, and snagged my high heel on the area rug next to this ridiculously big potted plant that we have in the hall. And that’s when—”

  “She tripped, but managed to not go down for the count,” Greg smoothly cuts in, all the while trying not to laugh his head off. “Instead, she ended up being smacked in the face by the fronds on this big palm tree as she passed by it. It caught her hair, and it snapped her head back a bit, causing everything in her hands to drop to the ground. I decided to be the knight in shining armor guy and tried to help her get untangled.”

  “Oh, is that what you call yourself? It’s more like the harbinger of bad luck, since you managed to get my earring caught up in the palm leaves, too,” my sister shakes her head at him. “One of my earrings was almost ripped out of my ear, and the leaves smacked me in the face, again!” She all but dares him to say otherwise. He wisely keeps his mouth shut, grins at her, then squeezes her tightly with his right arm and kisses the top of her head. She darts her eyes at the rest of us, challenging us not to laugh, and that’s when we all lose it.

  What does she expect from us? She grew up with us, she should know how we were going to react to that story. We can’t help it, and we laugh ourselves silly, until my left side is hurting.

  “Well, I think its romantic how you met. You’ll have a great story to tell your children one day,” Mom sounds hopeful as she tries to come to Linday’s defense. She’s also trying to keep a straight face, but we all burst out laughing again.

  “So, Charlotte oh Charlotte, how’s your dating life going?” Lindsay turns the tables on me, with a wicked grin. So much for flying under the radar. That question sends all eyes skidding my way, as everyone starts to calm down.

  “Yeah, what plant-face says—what’s up, Charlie?” Anson questions me, while taking a dig at our sister.

  “Oh, real mature, Anson McPantson.” Lindsay retorts, using his old nickname from the time that someone dared to pants him.

  I can’t help it; I burst out laughing all over again at his nickname for her. I’m thinking she won’t be living that one down for a while. “Oh come on, you all know I’m way too busy for a dating life right now. I’m working hard, and I’m happy. Why do I need a man, anyway?” I ask, turning to Bethany. I bug my eyes out at her for moral support.

  Do you think she backs me up? Nope. She just laughs and shakes her head, saying, “Don’t look at me on this one, little sis. I’ve got enough men-trouble on my hands to deal with.”

  “Traitor.”

  The next logical choice is to look to Rachel. She’s been dating my brother for over a year, but engaged for the last six months, and they have yet to tie the knot. Normally, she has my back, but it looks like tonight they all plan to get in on the action. So I change the subject. “So, Rachel, how’s that wedding planning coming along? Shouldn’t it be a shotgun wedding now? I mean—you did say something about the color baby blue, right? Or was it soft pink?” I smile sweetly at my brother and soon to be sister-in-law.

  That gets the instant reaction I’m looking for from my mom. “Oops,” I say with a sly smile.

  Before my mom can get a word in edgewise, I look over at Jaxon and Jen.

  “What about you guys? Don’t you have a bun in the oven yet? Throw me a bone here. You’ve been married for two years now. I think it’s time you pay your family dues and pop out a kid already. You’re killing the family dream of 19 grandkids and counting!”

  Then I look over to my dad and smile, because we all know I’m his favorite kid, and add, “So, Dad, how about the Red Sox? Damn those Yankees for beating them again.”

  This automatically sets my Dad off. Now my family is in a feeding frenzy of chaos, and I just sit back and enjoy the show while Mom freaks out on my sisters for not having kids yet, tying the knot, or settling down with one man already. The men get in on the baseball convo, and just like that, score one for the little people.

  I may be shy when it comes to men and being out with my friends, but it’s a whole different ballgame when it comes to my family.

  ON SUNDAYS, THE TRACK AND I become one, and my soul is free to soar. When everyone’s at church, like today, I’m out here, finding my peace and solitude. Letting the fear of love and loss become a forgotten memory, buried so deep it would be a miracle if you could find a trace of it at all. This is the place I come to forget. To lose myself in the high of the adrenaline rush I get from being on my bike.

  People feel the need to go to church to fellowship with others, uplift their spirits, and commune with their God. For me, the track is the place I come to commune with nature, and to worship what I long to do throughout the workweek. Out here, I’m fellowshipping in my own way, along with the others who come to ride. It’s the one place that calms my soul, and lets me be free from the pain and memories.

  The memories come flooding back to me, especially while I’m sitting on the tailgate of her truck. They’re the kind that take you prisoner and hold you down, then twist you up so tight you can’t breathe, right before they pierce you straight through the heart. My eyes sting a bit, and I know it’s not from the sun’s bright rays on this warm summer day. No, it’s definitely not from that. It’s the thought of sitting here on the edge of the truck that she gave me on her deathbed. It’s become a part of me, as this track has, and it’s all that I have left of her. So I give it the utmost care I possibly can, willing it to last me a lifetime so that I won’t ever have to part with it. With her.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, attempting to force the tears and memories of her to recede to where they came from, just as I hear gravel kicking up on the road in front of me. I blink them open in time to see Holt and Tucker pull in next to my Ford. Perfect timing. A few minutes longer, and I would have given up on riding today and headed home. That’s the one thing you don’t want while out on the track—a distraction. Distractions cause you to do stupid things, which lead to accidents and cause injuries. Thinking about loss, life, or women would be a stupid thing to do while riding. One small miscalculation could lead to something major. You need a clear head when you go out there. The only things on your mind should be you, the bike, and the track.

  “About time you two knuckleheads showed up!” I call out to the guys, trying to cover up the emotional state that I was headed towards.


  Rolling his eyes, Tucker walks past me and smacks the back of my head. “Keep your boots on, we weren’t that late. Did you think we stood you up for some hot chicks?”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  Riding is something that means more to me than it does to them. Sure, they love the feel of the high they get from riding. But for me, it’s something else altogether. Sometimes I wonder if they just come out to ride so they can show off for the women that the track seems to gather. Or for bragging rights they can use when picking women up while we’re out at Texas Jacks. I know they love riding, and it helps bring them peace, too. Yet, it’s just not the same for them as it is for me.

  “Why are you just standing there? Are you communing with the ground, or do you plan to get a move on sometime today so we can ride?” Holt throws a jab at my abs as he walks by.

  Narrowing my eyes at my friends, I ask, “What is this? Pick on Nate day?”

  “Oh, didn’t you know? It’s National Beat on Your Friend Day.” Tucker laughs while scanning the track, then looks over to where the women like to gather to watch us ride.

  “Seriously, man, get your head on straight. Forget the bike bunnies and focus. Do you plan on getting hurt today? I don’t want to haul your sorry crack to the hospital because you were floating that brain of yours in the gutter.”

  Now it’s my turn to smack Tucker in the back of the head, and boy did that feel good. I laugh as I jump out of arm’s reach when he tries to get me back. I know, we sound like a bunch of high school teens when we’re far from it, being in our early to mid-twenties. But hey, boys will always be boys. There’s a part of us that will never grow up, no matter how hard some women out there pray that we will. What’s the purpose of life if you can’t enjoy it by having a lot of fun? We can be serious when we need to be, but having fun is a lot better. Otherwise, the heaviness of reality and memories can sneak up on you, forcing you to a place you’d rather leave buried under a rock. It’s not that I don’t want to remember her; I just can’t handle the sadness and pain it brings with those memories, knowing that I’ll never see her again in this lifetime.

  Is there something else out there? Did she go to a better place than here on this Earth?

  I have no idea.

  I don’t know what to think. I just know I don’t want to think about it—at all. I decide that I need to move on before I actually call it a day, for real this time.

  Bringing me back to the here and now before I can mentally get myself there, Tucker scowls at me. “I’m not looking for bike bunnies, so lay off. I’m trying to see if Lisa showed up or not. Ever since I dumped her, she’s been stalking me. She’s so hard up for a ring on her finger, and doesn’t get that it’s not happening, like ever. I’m hoping to make it out onto the track without a scene. It won’t be happening for me with any woman, for that matter.” He looks over there one last time, and when he doesn’t see her, he heads off to the tailgate of Holt’s truck to pull his bike down the ramp that Holt set up while Tucker was looking for Lisa.

  “Chill out. I’m just being a good friend, making sure we’re all focused, okay? Holt, you good to ride, or do I need to smack you around, too? I could free the rest of those cobwebs left over from high school.”

  “Ha, you think you can get a jab in at me?” Holt laughs at me.

  “You forget that I know where you sleep, and it’s not that far of a walk from my room to yours. Or maybe you forgot about that one time in college, when Tucker and I jumped you from the big oak tree on your path to English class.” Tucker high-fives me as he’s walking by with his bike towards the track, laughing.

  “You know, I still owe you two stooges for that. You made me drop my backpack when I jumped and screamed like a girl. I thought I was on the verge of a heart attack.”

  I just laugh at him and start wheeling my own dirt bike out to the track calling out, “Good luck with that!” over my shoulder.

  Lisa’s a pretty girl, and she seemed nice enough, but she really just wanted one thing— good old Tuck-boy. In high school, she was quiet, laid back, and pretty dang smart— even a little shy. The girl doesn’t have a single mean bone in her body. Or so we used to think. I know one thing for sure— she has it bad, and it appears she can’t let go of Tucker. Heck, she’s wanted him since freshman year of high school. He finally decided to take her out awhile back, and then ended up dating her for two months. It all seemed to be going well for a time, until she started dropping hints about moving in together. That was a big red flag for Tucker. Living together, settling down with a wife and then kids isn’t on his list of life plans. He would probably still be dating her if she hadn’t gotten that serious on him. Although, he had to know it was coming, since she’s been after him for so long. She’d made it her life mission to go after Tucker, and finally landed him.

  Why can’t women be content to just date us and not worry about lifelong plans? It takes the excitement out of dating and the relationship. Eventually, it all goes south from there, and then you have to break her heart. After that, it’s really downhill when you have to hear about it from her friends, and your friends’ girlfriends, and other people in town. That’s the bad part about living in a smallish community. Everyone knows everyone, and judgments pass easily, whether you are actually the bad guy or not. Or, you have to deal with the pitying looks when you lose a loved one and can’t seem to move on from it.

  Great, just what I need— my head filled with more distractions.

  Thanks, Tuck and Lisa, for making that happen.

  Getting a grip on my thoughts, I make my way to the starting line of the track, park my bike next to Tucker’s, and suit up with the proper gear to protect my body.

  Once I’m dressed and ready to go, I look out at the track that’s calling my name and begging me to take it on. It’s the biggest dragon in the kingdom, and I’m the only one who can slay it with my sword. I take in a cleansing breath, calming myself down, and then let it go slowly. I do this a few times while Holt pushes his bike up next to mine.

  It’s time to get this show on the road.

  Climbing on to my bike and starting it up, I feel it rumble under me, letting the excitement for what’s about to come wash over me. I clear my head, knowing it’s time to let go of everything and everyone invading my thoughts and just focusing on myself, the road, and the jumps ahead.

  I look over at the guys and give them each a thumbs-up before taking off.

  IT’S 7 PM, AND I’M TRYING to decide what to wear—but I have no idea what to throw together. A denim skirt, paired with a blouse and my cowgirl boots? Or my butt hugging jeans, cowboy belt buckle, boots, and a cute t-shirt? I don’t have the slightest clue. And where are my partners-in-crime? Why didn’t we agree to all get ready at one place? They know how fashion-challenged I am. Okay, maybe not completely. But still, I need someone’s opinion as I tear apart my wardrobe. And what about my hair — up or down? I’ll never understand why it’s so hard for a girl to get ready, yet guys can be out the door in ten minutes flat.

  It’s getting late and I know my girls will be here soon, so I need to get with the program. I decide to put on my knee-length denim skirt, the one without the back pockets. I grab my favorite black, short-sleeved blouse that ties at the top and gathers around the scooped neckline and the arms, then ribs around the waist. It has pink flowers and small pink diamonds in between that go down the front on both sides. I slip it over my head. Then I pull on some black socks, followed by my black boots. I carefully flat iron my shoulder-length chocolate-brown hair, spritz on some Beautiful perfume and put in my gold hoop earrings. I apply some light makeup next, and check my purse for the necessities I’ll need for a night out. I pull out my ID and money, slipping them into the front pocket of my skirt.

  I hear a knock at my front door, and I know that it’s Halley and Naomi. They have a key, but knock out of courtesy so they don't scare me to death.

  I walk to the door anyway and let them in, asking, “So, ho
w do I look?” They both look me over while giving me appreciative smiles, winks, and Halley even whistles.

  I'm pretty sure my cheeks are a bit pink from their antics, and they crack up when they notice how embarrassed I am.

  I have to admit that they’re both looking good in their painted-on jeans, buckles, and boots, each paired with her own cute blouse. Although, they’re the smart ones, as they put their hair up. I’ve been out with them before, and it does get hot and sweaty in the bar, especially while out on the dance floor. Hmm. I’m rethinking the hair option as I head towards the bathroom.

  However, Naomi clotheslines me at the hall entrance with a straight-armed maneuver and starts hustling us towards the front door instead, ordering, “Get a move on, ladies! I don’t want to miss my favorite dances.” Looks like my hair will be staying down tonight.

  Halley decides to drive, so we all climb in to her black Chevy truck. As I get close to the back of her truck, I notice a new sticker on her rear window and read aloud, “Q: What is the difference between a Ford and a porcupine? A: Porcupines have pricks on the outside,” which causes all three of us to bust up laughing. This puts us in a whacky mood as we pull out of the parking lot and head out to the highway, toward Texas Jacks.

  There’s not much to do in Vacaville on a Friday night, so you’ll most likely find us at Texas Jacks shooting pool, grabbing a few drinks, and watching the local girls dance. The bar and dance club is a popular place to be. It draws crowds in from the surrounding towns and cities, as far out as Sacramento. They also play a great mix of music. There’s a little something for everyone there, even the folks who are not so ‘country.’

  Texas Jacks is where the guys and I go to unwind from a long week of work. If we aren’t there, we’re probably fishing, camping, racing our dirt bikes, or sitting around the house relaxing and shooting the breeze. And okay, I admit it—you might even catch us playing video games from time to time. However, you’ll more than likely find us at the dirt track, if not here.