by Harley Stone
I was about to put the bike in reverse when a man who looked somewhere between seventy and a hundred came over and started flapping his jaws at me. I couldn’t hear him over the roar of the engine, and my parents had taught me better than to ignore my elders, so I turned off the key and engaged in the conversation.
“What was that?” I asked. “I couldn’t hear you.”
“I owned a bike, once. Bought it back in fifty-nine? Or was it sixty-two? It was a real beaut, a 1955 Panhead.”
I didn’t know shit about sleds until I joined the Dead Presidents, and the limited knowledge I’d picked up came from repairing and tuning my piece of shit Road King. “Bet it was more reliable than this ol’ ride.”
“Oh, she was a great bike. Yellow, black, and so much power I could barely contain her. Drew the ladies like bees to flowers, that bike did. Met my first wife while I was on that bike.” He frowned and gazed off into the distance. “She was a beaut, too. Cancer got her in eighty-nine.”
I had no idea how to escape from this conversation, but I desperately needed to get shit done and get back to the hospital. “Sorry to hear that.”
He had a second wife, five children between his marriages, twelve grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren. I must have stood there, listening, for at least a half hour, trying to find a respectful way to bail before he talked my ear off. He finally got a tickle in his throat and pulled a cough drop out of his pocket. Seeing the opportunity for what it was, I started up my bike again. It roared right to life, and I could have hugged it, I was so damn happy. Instead, I silently promised not to melt it into scrap metal when I found its replacement.
“Well, it’s been great talking to you, but I really have to go pick up some things for my uncle.”
The old man’s mouth opened again, but I was already backing out of the parking spot.
Someone in the building must have sent out an alert that they had a listener in the parking lot, because old people swarmed out of the front doors and headed straight for me, their jaws flapping in preparation. I had a ton of shit to do, so I peeled out of the parking lot and took off.
After picking up a phone charger, a couple changes of clothes, and some toiletries, I returned—parking on the other side of the apartment building—and sneaked up the stairs. As I opened the door the odor hit me, forcing me to stagger backwards. Powering through the stench, I held my breath and circled the space, opening every window I could find. I searched for candles or scented plug-ins but didn’t find jack, so I plugged my phone into the new charger and got to work separating the piles of laundry littering the hallway. I’d respect Uncle Jaime’s wishes and not tell my parents how filthy his apartment was, but there was no way I’d bring his ass home to this squalor.
Besides, it would be easier to pack after everything was clean, and I fully intended to move him to Seattle.
I started a load of laundry before filling the kitchen sink with hot, soapy water and loading it up with dishes. Then I powered on my phone and started an internet radio station. As I started to load the dishwasher, my tunes were interrupted with at least a dozen incoming texts. Drying my hands on my jeans, I glanced at the screen. The messages kept coming. Flint wanted to know when I’d be back. Wasp’s nosy ass wanted to know what I was up to. My parents wanted an update, so I called and gave them one before scrolling through the rest of the messages.
There were a few texts from numbers I didn’t recognize, but I scrolled past them trying to take care of the shit that needed to be handled. Felipe sent me a warning that Miguel was using my tools. I texted the asshole to promise a swift and painful death if anything happened to my shit. Wasp had sent out a group text asking for a head count for the holiday campout. Since my uncle’s health was still up in the air, I replied to let him know I probably wouldn’t make it. Flint wanted to know how long I’d be gone.
My eyes snagged on a message from my youngest sister.
Rosalie: Can you pick me up from school today?
My parents must not have told her about Uncle Jaime, or she would have known I was in Portland and taking care of him. I didn’t know why they’d chosen to keep it a secret, but I wasn’t about to break the news and upset their system. But I also couldn’t ignore her unusual request.
Me: Why? What’s going on?
Rosalie: I just don’t feel like walking. It’s not a big deal.
Alarms went off in my head, triggering my protective big brother senses. The house was eight blocks from her school. I’d offered to pick her up a few times when I was in the neighborhood, but she always said no. She liked walking with her friend who lived a few houses down from us. If she wanted a ride now, something was wrong, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what.
Me: Someone giving you a hard time again?
Because of her cleft lip and palate, Rosalie had been dealing with bullies most of her life. Kids could be mean little shits, but she took their teasing in stride and mostly let it roll off her back. Every once in a while, a kid would go too far, and I’d find my sister crying into her pillow. I’d have to coax the truth out of her and then I’d follow her around, flexing at any little assholes who treated her with less than the respect she deserved until that bullshit stopped. It had been a while since I’d caught Rosalie in tears, and I was hoping the kids around her had matured.
Rosalie: It’s not bad, but I don’t want to deal with it today.
Dammit. She shouldn’t have to deal with it any day. Since there was no way I could get back to Seattle before her school let out, I called the scariest motherfucker I knew.
Havoc answered on the third ring. “Hey brother, what’s up?”
“I need a favor.”
He didn’t even hesitate. “You got it. What’s up?”
“Some kid’s giving my baby sister a hard time.”
“They’re fuckin’ with Rosalie?” he asked.
Havoc was no stranger to my family. He’d helped us remove a couple of trees that were fucking up our waterline, so Mom had invited him for dinner to thank him. Most of my siblings gave him a wide berth because of his intimidating size, but Rosalie had walked right up to him and asked why his arms were so massive. She was eleven at the time, and he swung her up on his shoulders and replied, “To carry beautiful princesses, of course.”
As big and scary as he was, Havoc was a sucker for kids.
“It’s not the first time,” I replied. “I usually take care of it, but I’m stuck down here. She needs someone to pick her up after school.”
“Say no more, brother, I got you. Text me the name of her school, the time she gets out, and where to find her.”
“Will do. I’ll let her know where to meet you. Thanks for doing this, brother.”
“My pleasure.” His chuckle sounded vicious. “I got somethin’ for those mean little bastards.”
That sounded terrifying. Grateful Havoc was on my side, I disconnected the call and texted him Rosalie’s school info before messaging my sister back. There were so many more texts to wade through, but if I didn’t get off the damn phone, I’d never get anything done. I turned up the music and walked away from it. The stench of Uncle Jaime’s apartment was making my eyes water, and I needed to do something about it before I started puking. My busy life would have to wait.
Since the kitchen reeked the worst, I started off with the fridge. Mysterious looking shit was growing in a few containers. Trying not to gag, I tossed them in the trash, without even bothering to try to save the Tupperware. If my uncle complained, I’d buy him new stuff. Next, I emptied the overflowing garbage cans and sprayed lemon scented cleaner everywhere before going back to the dishes.
Now the apartment smelled like citrus-scented vomit, but at least it was an improvement.
After the dishes, I vacuumed, swept, and scrubbed some shit off the wall behind the garbage can. Uncle Jaime’s bed sheets were the stuff of nightmares, so I tossed those in the trash, too. Since I couldn’t find a spare set, I made a note to pick up more, and the
n went into the bathroom to clean myself up. The back wall of the shower was streaked with mildew, so I bleached the shit out of it before hopping in.
By the time I made it back to the hospital, I was exhausted and hungry. It was close to midnight and the cafeteria was closed, so I grabbed a sketchy looking sandwich from a vending machine and headed up to my uncle’s room.
He was awake, watching some old movie. His gaze cut to me and took in my clean clothes. “You’re still here? Figured you wised up and went back to that girl you left last night.”
“I wish.” I hadn’t even had time to think about Jessica. I wished I would have texted myself from her phone, so I at least had her number. Hoping she’d forgive me for my oversight, I ambled over to the couch beneath the window and sat, tearing open my sandwich. “How you feelin’?”
“Old and gassy as hell. I got the farts something fierce.”
Great. Thankfully, I couldn’t smell shit. My sense of smell was probably damaged beyond repair by this point. I swallowed a bite. “Did they say when you’ll be able to go home?”
“Not tonight. That’s all they’d tell me. I think they’re just tryin’ to get more money out of my insurance. You know how these hospitals work.”
“Nah. They only do that with well-behaved patients. They’re gonna force your grumpy old ass out of here as soon as you can limp.”
He glared at me for a few beats before cracking a smile. “Then I must be doin’ somethin’ right.”
I finished up my sandwich and tossed the wrapper in the trash before brushing my teeth and stretching out on the sofa bed. “Can I get you anything before I pass out?”
“Pass out? You just got here. What the hell have you been doin’ all this time?”
“Cleaning up that shit hole you call home.” My uncle had always been a clean man, so the state of his apartment had been bugging me all day. Sure, he’d let his housekeeper go, but that was no excuse. Something was off about the whole situation, and I needed to know what we were dealing with. “What’s really going on with you, Tio?” I asked.
He looked away. “It’s like the doctor told you, my appendix ruptured, and they took it out. I got the scar to prove it. You wanna see?” He grabbed at his robe.
Having no desire to inflict that sort of trauma upon myself, I shook my head. “Keep your robe closed. I know about your appendix, but there’s something more going on. Something you’re not telling me. I know you. Don’t bullshit me old man.”
He met my gaze and held it for a beat before nodding. “You always could see straight through me, Tonio. Even when you were a little boy, you knew when I was full of shit. Every goddamn time.”
Whatever he was hiding was bad. I braced myself, fearing the truth while knowing I needed to hear it. “I can also tell when you’re stalling. Spit it out.”
He looked me square in the eyes. “It’s my heart, kid.”
Jessica
THE REST OF the week passed in a blur as I buried myself in work and struggled to catch up from my impromptu day off. In a transparent effort to make me feel valued without giving me an actual promotion or raise, Don threw a few big clients my way, making claims like, “Jessica’s one of the best we have. She’ll take amazing care of you and make sure you see the results you’re looking for.”
And he was right. My instinctual desire to please overrode the anger I felt toward his crappy decision, and I worked my butt off to make the best possible first impressions for our company. I wasn’t buying Don’s nonsense, but the increased workload—on top of playing catch up—made it difficult to even think about looking for another job. No doubt that played right into my boss’ hand, but whatever. At least I got the fulfillment of making clients happy, added to my growing portfolio, and enjoyed a nice spike in my commissions.
Evenings were spent at the fire station. I ate dinners with the group, but then sneaked up to my room to work or read. Carly and Trent had moved in with Wasp, and the trio stopped by every couple of days to check on me and do whatever Wasp did for the club. Carly had given notice at the Copper Penny so she could spend nights and weekends at home with her little family. I was happy for my friend, but missed having her and the little man around, so when she knocked on my door Saturday evening, I was all too willing to set aside my work and let her drag me downstairs to be social.
Wasp and several of the guys were hanging out in the common area, watching a baseball game and drinking beer. Trent played with Army men and plastic dinosaurs at their feet. He saw me and bolted upright before sprinting in my direction. I braced for impact as he crashed into my legs and wrapped his arms around me.
“Hi Jess!” His smile made my heart melt and my ovaries weep. I wanted a child of my own someday. One to crack silly jokes and watch Disney movies with. Someone to love and protect, to read stories to and tuck in every night. My older sister had a four-month-old baby, and I was trying not to be jealous, but sometimes she sent one too many heart-melting pictures and that ugly green giant reared its head.
Of course, starting a family would require a man, which I did not currently have. Spade’s smiling face flooded my mind, and a little stab of pain sliced right through my heart. We’d had so much fun together, but judging by the way he’d ghosted me, he clearly wasn’t interested.
And why would he be? You asked him to be your one-night stand, remember? One night. Get over it!
So, why did I still feel so attached to him? We’d shared something special; I was sure of it. It wasn’t just the sex I missed. It was the way he made me feel when I was with him. How could someone act so into me and then completely disappear from my life? It had been almost a week, and he still hadn’t returned my text. Every time I walked past his door something inside of me ached for what we’d shared. Maybe Shari had it right, and becoming a club whore was the best way to go. No, I could never do that. I craved a connection and a real relationship far too much.
Trent’s smile fell. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes brimming with concern.
Wishing I could stop wearing my emotions all over my face, I reached down and picked him up, squeezing him tight and trying to live in this moment of happiness. “Nothing. My favorite little man in the world is here. Everything is fine, now. Look at that, you’re magical, Trent. You make life better.”
He grinned and snuggled against me. “You’re magical, Jess.”
My heart swelled. Yep, I needed my own child someday. Brushing a kiss against his forehead, I thanked him.
He gave me one last squeeze before wiggling free. “Oh! I have to show you something.” He grabbed my hand and towed me toward a collection of toys, retrieving a small clear container full of rocks. Hoisting it into the air with all the pride and confidence of a child, he said, “They’re dragon eggs. I’m intibating them.”
“Incubating,” Carly corrected.
“They’re gonna hatch and be my dragons.” Trent carefully set the container down and grinned up at me.
I had no idea what to say, so I looked to Carly for help.
“This is what we’re doing now. We’re hatching dragons.” She looked as clueless as I felt.
“Wow. That’s… exciting.”
“When they hatch, I will let you play with them, too, Jess.”
“Come here, buddy,” Wasp said, saving me from having to feign excitement over rocks that would never hatch into dragons.
Trent released me and ran and jumped into his lap, forcing Wasp to hold his beer up and away from the attack.
“Come on.” Carly grabbed my hand and towed me away from the guys. “Wasp has Trent, so we’re having a girls’ night.”
That sounded expensive, and I didn’t have money to throw around on alcohol and bad decisions. I opened my mouth to object, but she talked over me.
“We won’t go anywhere. I know you don’t like crowds, so it’s just a few ladies chatting at the bar.”
“Small talk is difficult for me,” I reminded her.
“Then we’ll skip the small talk and go
straight to solving the world’s problems.”
“Like what you’re gonna do when those rocks don’t turn into dragons?” I asked.
She winced. “Yeah. I have no idea. I’m way out of my league here. I don’t even remember having an imagination, so I have no clue how to deal with Trent’s. I want him to keep believing, though, so I’m probably going to have to buy lizards and glue wings onto them or something.”
I patted her hand. “You’re a great mom. You’ll figure out something.”
She sighed. “Thanks. I’m trying. He should have come with a handbook or instruction manual or something.”
Agreeing, I let her lead me to the small bar inside the fire station, where Link’s wife, Emily; Havoc’s fiancé, Julia; Emily’s friend, Jayson; and Shari were already engaged in a conversation about some restaurant they wanted to try. Over the past week, I’d gotten to know them all pretty well, and enjoyed their company. Everyone got up to hug me before I took the open stool between Carly and Jayson.
“What are you drinkin’, Jess,” Shari asked, slipping behind the bar. “We got all the liquor you could ever want, and if I don’t know how to make a drink, your girl, Carly here does.”
“I’m not sure.” I glanced at Carly for help. “I’m not much of a drinker, and I’m trying to watch my carb intake.” I’d been half-assing the Keto diet for a while, trying to drop the twenty pounds I picked up during college and never lost. I probably needed to fully commit and drop carbs all together, but that was difficult to do while watching Trent or staying at the fire station. Or while living in a world where bread existed.
Shari looked me over. “Why? You’re gorgeous just as you are.”
Compliments made me almost as uncomfortable as small talk. Heat flooded my cheeks. “I… I’d like to get rid of my belly.”
