by Fiona Lowe
“There.” He pointed to a very small seat that seemed tacked on as afterthought given the size of the driver’s seat.
“You have got to be kidding me?”
He laughed. “You’re tiny, Ella, so you’ll be fine.”
He got on the bike, kicked down and suddenly the engine roared to life. She jumped. Even with the padding of the helmet over her ears, the roar of the engine was deafening.
Al turned to her with a grin. “Put your hand on my shoulder and get on,” he yelled as he pointed downward to the exhaust. “Don’t burn your leg.”
“Burn my leg?” Her rising fear almost choked her. Gripping his shoulder like it was the only thing between her and certain death, she managed to throw her leg over the bike. Al pointed to where she should put her feet and she gripped his waist, feeling like she was perched rather than sitting on the pillion seat and petrified she was going to fall off. Powerful vibrations ran up and down her legs and unlike in a car, she felt like she wasn’t just sitting on the bike but it was part of her. She didn’t know if she liked the sensation or not.
And then they were moving slowly down the street. She didn’t dare move in case she made the bike wobble and she’d barely got used to not having the security of a car around her when Al turned onto the county road. The bike took off, the increase in speed sending her backward and she almost vomited in her mouth. Trees whipped past so close and so fast that everything was a green blur and she closed her eyes.
Bad idea. Without being able to see anything she felt nauseous and more like she could fall off any second so she opened her eyes again. She yelled, “Slow down,” and immediately heard her words whipped away from her.
The bike raced down the blacktop, going so fast that the white lines of the road seemed to join up into one continuous line. She moved her gaze back to the trees. Nope, it didn’t help so she stared at Al’s back, seeing a steady, blur-free black. She was just about to try to tell him to turn back when he slowed and turned onto the rustic dirt road.
They hit a pothole and she screamed.
Al said something but she couldn’t hear it over the engine and the pounding dread in her ears. Suddenly and blessedly, the beast stopped moving and Al turned around.
“Ella, you gotta relax or you’re gonna tip us both off the bike.”
“Relax?” She stared at him gob smacked. “How can I relax when I’m terrified?”
“The more you fight the bike, the more you’re gonna hate it. Riding a bike’s like dancing and you’re a fabulous dancer, Ella.”
She ignored the compliment that spun traitorously through her, making her feel giddy and she sharply reminded herself she was no longer a girl. “This is nothing like dancing.”
“Sure it is. You move with the rhythm of the bike. Lean into the bends instead of fighting them.”
“I want to go back.”
“Ella, what the hell is wrong with you?” Al growled. “You’re one of the most resilient women I know. You raised three kids; hell, you organized Ron for over thirty years, you pushed Whitetail to get this wedding business up and running, and not once in all the time you nursed Ron did I hear you say you wanted to quit. So why are you quitting on this?”
“None of that scared me like this does.” Only she knew it wasn’t the bike that scared her. It was Al. He’d been acting different lately and she didn’t want things to change.
“Come on,” he soothed. “Lisa and Todd are expecting us. Tell you what? I’ll go slow and you lean into the bends.”
Before she could object or argue, he started off. This time the trees stayed in focus and she didn’t have the same sense that she was going to fall off. The sunshine warmed her face and leaves floated down around them on the breeze, their message loud and clear—winter was coming. The fresh scent of pine was strong mixing in with marsh mud and although she couldn’t hear the birdsong, she could see them. A flock of Canada geese flew overhead and she followed their flight path, her view unobstructed.
She was right in the middle of nature rather than boxed out of it like in a car.
The bike sped up some but it didn’t bother her. She was too busy wondering what the red flowers were they’d just passed. Al’s right shoulder moved against her as if to say, look and she glanced up, seeing the bend up ahead. Fighting every urge to stay rigid, she pressed her body against Al’s broad and comforting back and moved with him.
The weight of the bike shifted and she went with it.
It felt like freedom and she wanted to feel it again.
* * *
Amy dug into the tub of popcorn that her father passed her, loving the way salt and butter conspired to make it taste so damn good. The two of them were in the home theater watching a documentary on Australian marsupials that Todd had found in the Rasmussens’ vast DVD collection.
“This is just like the old days,” Todd said, giving her shoulder a squeeze.
Amy laughed. “Our couch and TV weren’t quite in the same league as this though.”
“True enough but there’s money to be made in the law it seems. You’ve got yourself a job in a good firm and I’m so proud of you.”
Guilt tumbled through her and she shoved another handful of popcorn into her mouth.
“Funny how this show hasn’t mentioned drop bears,” Todd said with a grin.
She shot him a sideways glance. “What’s Ben told you about drop bears?”
“That you believed him for a bit but then you got him good with the flour the day we arrived. That’s my girl.” He sipped his soda. “I didn’t expect to like him, Amy, but he’s okay.”
Damned with faint praise. She laughed tightly. “You’re only saying that because he bribed you into liking him by letting you and Mom ride his bike.”
“Well, there is that,” he said with a smile before sobering. “Even so, he’s educated, well mannered and the only thing I can hold against him is this extended vacation thing. There’s something not quite right about it.”
“There you two are,” Lisa said from behind them.
She took a seat next to Amy as her father said, “We were just chatting about Ben.”
Amy caught the look pass between her parents and realized way too late she was suddenly sandwiched between them and all exits had just slammed shut. This wasn’t a DVD viewing, it was an ambush. “His arm’s a lot better and Al’s loaned him a car,” she said, trying to keep the focus away from her.
“He’d be unwise to ride his bike too soon,” Lisa said. “I guess he’ll be staying here longer than you. Surely the office needs you back?”
Her heart rate picked up. “Actually, I’ve taken some vacation.”
“Oh, Amy.” Her mother’s look of disappointment slugged her. “Vacation to be with Ben? This really isn’t like you and I’m worried you’re going to get hurt.”
“I didn’t take vacation time because of Ben, Mom,” she said, hearing Ben’s voice in the back of her mind. “I took it because I’m making a wedding gown for a Whitetail bride and to spend extra time with you and Daddy.”
Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies... crooned the voice in head.
Her father looked askance. “A wedding gown? Why?”
She couldn’t tell him the whole truth but she gave him something she’d learned from making Janey’s gown. “It was one of those things of being in the right place at the right time and I was able to help them out. I’m really enjoying it. Remember how I sewed all the time when I was at high school and college?”
“But it’s just a vacation thing, right?” Her father sounded worried she was going to ditch the law for dressmaking.
“Totally.” She rubbed his arm to reassure him. To reassure herself.
Lisa didn’t look reassured at all. “Sweetie, I’ve been doing some reading. I think you’re having a quarter-life crisi
s.”
Amy wanted to duck to avoid her mother’s penetrating gaze. “Mom, I’m thirty-two. I’m way passed my quarter life.”
“Yes, but your life’s all about work. I guess we were hoping that things with that lawyer Jonathon you talked about over the last few months were going to develop into something more serious.”
Oh it’s pretty serious, Mom. Just not how you think.
“Mom, you really need to stop reading the self-help guides. Not every woman needs a man in their life full-time.”
“Most want one.”
Her mother’s bald words hung between them, dripping with the truth she’d spent her life denying. She went on the attack. “I can’t win, Mom. You’re not happy when I’m single and you’re not happy about this thing with Ben.”
“Thing?” Her mother winced. “See, that’s exactly the problem. I just want you to be happy.”
“Of course she’s happy,” Todd said firmly. “Being a lawyer is all she ever talked about and she’s good at what she does.”
“But it’s not a balanced life,” Lisa argued back.
Her stomach clenched so hard that it moved the popcorn upward until it sat midchest in a hard lump. Even when her parents thought she was a successful lawyer, they still saw her as needing help and talked about her life with a pitying look in their eyes. And sadly they had good reason—a reason she was never going to confess to them or anyone else.
“I’m sitting right here, Mom, Dad. I’m not twenty anymore. I’m all grown up. It’s my life so stop discussing it. Please.”
She hit the volume on the remote, bringing up the dulcet tones of the narrator who was explaining the reproductive cycle of the kangaroo. Hiding out in a pouch for eight months sounded awesome.
* * *
Scott lovingly watched Lily as she ran ahead of him and Melissa on the trail, her yellow rubber boots kicking at piles of fallen leaves. “She’s never happier than when she’s playing with leaves.”
“There’s nothing better.” Melissa’s blue eyes sparkled. “Especially when someone’s just finished raking them into a big pile.”
“I bet you were a handful when you were a kid.”
She laughed. “My mother tells me that one day, when I have a child of my own, I will know exactly how much grief I gave her.”
Lily turned around and pointed to a big pile of leaves on the side of the trail. “Miffy, look.”
“Now that is a big pile,” she said as her leather boots sprayed leaves everywhere.
Lily joined her with a squeal of delight.
They were on their way back to the car after choosing a Halloween pumpkin from Keith and Lindsay’s farm. Scott had seen a poster up in town about the pumpkin train and he’d asked Melissa about it one morning when he was getting dressed after what had become regular yet amazing sex at her place.
She’d told him Keith was a keen train enthusiast and that he had a mile of 7 ½-inch gauge miniature railway track in his field and every year he turned it into a pumpkin patch. She’d said all the local kids loved it and Lily would too. Scott had found himself inviting her to come along.
It was the third time he’d invited her on one of his and Lily’s outings and just like at the party, Melissa had been relaxed with Lily without talking down to her. Today, on the train, although Lily had snuggled up with him in her loving way as they’d chugged to the pumpkin patch, she’d wanted to sit next to Melissa on the way back and he’d been left sitting behind them holding the pumpkin.
Not that she’d snuggled in with Melissa but she’d laughed. With her face shining, she’d giggled at something Melissa had said and watching Lily had filled him with a combination of absolute happiness tinged with regret. He couldn’t work out if the regret was to do with the fact Lily didn’t have a mother in her life or if he was finding it hard to share her with another person. They’d been a team of two for so long and seeing her laugh like that had unsettled him. He’d spent so many years focusing on just getting through one day at a time—learning how to be a dad to Lily, dealing with her health scares, managing all her therapies and protecting her from hurt—that he’d never entertained the possibility of settling down again. Never expected to find someone who might love Lily as much as he did.
The drive home was filled with off-key singing that made him and his perfect pitch shudder, but made him smile anyway. When they arrived back at the house and Lily had chosen exactly where on the stoop to put the pumpkin, he invited Melissa in for some spiced coffee to round out the fall afternoon.
“Would you mind if I gave Lily a present?” Melissa asked while they waited for the coffee to brew.
The question surprised him. “Um, I guess that depends what it is. What did you have in mind?”
She pulled a package out of a tote bag. “It’s a dress.”
A ripple of impatience washed through him. “We’re not all slaves to fashion, Melissa. Thanks anyway, but she doesn’t need a dress.”
“Yes, she does,” Melissa said firmly. “You’re a fantastic father, Scott, but you’re dressing Lily like a boy.”
“No, I’m not.” His voice sounded unusually loud and defensive. “She’s got jeans with pink on them.”
Melissa tilted her head, her smooth bob moving to brush her chin. “She has practical clothes and I get it. They’re easy to wash and they don’t need ironing but she needs a pretty dress or two and ribbons in her hair.”
“Ribbons? Jeez, Melissa, I’ve got more to worry about every day than damn ribbons in her hair.”
Her face filled with understanding but her gaze was determined. “How about we let Lily decide if she wants the dress or not?”
“She’s five and with the intellectual abilities of a three-year-old.”
“She’s a little girl first,” she said quietly.
Her words hit him hard in the solar plexus, making it hard to breathe and he crossed the kitchen so he could see Lily who was dancing to a DVD. She wore a hand-knitted sweater that his mom had sent her and jeans. With her short, easy-to-manage hair, it was hard to tell at first glance if she was a boy or a girl.
Nausea rolled his stomach. He’d spent five years fighting for his daughter to have the same opportunities as every other child. Was he culpable of the same sin he accused others of? Of seeing the Down syndrome first and the person second?
Hell no! He knew he wasn’t but Melissa was right. He was dressing Lily androgynously and, truth be told, far more boy than girl.
He turned back to Melissa, running a hand through his hair. “I guess I feel uncomfortable with all that girly stuff so I’ve avoided it.”
“Well, you are a guy,” she said, smiling at him indulgently. “But you have a lot of great qualities so don’t beat yourself up. I’m happy to give you little-girl fashion tips.”
“How do I even tie a ribbon?” he asked, bewildered by the thought.
“I’ll show you,” she said, laughing. “I suggest you practice on a doll before you try it out on a squirming Lily.”
His heart swelled with something so much more than gratitude and appreciation that it took him a moment before he recognized it.
He was falling in love with her.
He waited for the thought to scare him rigid but it didn’t. It was warm and soft and wonderful. He reached for her, pulling her into him, loving the way she fitted against him and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You’re the most surprising woman, Miffy.”
She cuffed him lightly on the shoulder. “Only Lily’s allowed to call me that.”
He grinned down at her. “You’re nothing like the person I took you for the day I met you.”
Her eyes flickered with something unreadable. “Neither are you.”
Chapter Eighteen
Ben walked around Red three times, squeezing his injured shoulder as h
e went. Since Todd had ridden Red, she’d been garaged at the house and he tinkered with her constantly but he hadn’t taken her out for a spin. He was into his third week since the accident and he’d managed to drive automatic cars without any drama. Mind you, they had power steering and the roads out here were pretty straight. Red lacked the gentle touch on the body that a modern bike had, and as much as he wanted to ride her, he didn’t want to skid into an embankment at the first bend because his shoulder gave out.
“Ben!”
He turned to see Amy jogging over the gravel wearing jeans and a jacket, with a pretty scarf around her neck. Her legs looked good. Not that they hadn’t looked good when he’d first met her but the running had toned them up. He wanted to tell her that but it was dangerous territory. A bit like the question, does my bum look big in this? There was no right answer whichever way you came at it. He wished she could see herself through his eyes.
She arrived next to him, eyes sparkling and pink cheeked from the chill in the air. “So this is Red?”
“This is Red. Red, meet Red.”
She shot him a look. “You’ve never called me Red.”
“I do all the time in my head. It’s what I call my two favorite girls.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks got pinker. “I’ve never had a nickname before.”
She was a conundrum to him. Naive in so many ways and worldly in others. He couldn’t work her out.
“You’re not planning on riding her, are you?” she asked, her tone bossy-lawyer-esque.
“I was thinking about it.”
Her brows rose. “Like me, she looks heavy.”
“Jeez, Amy, you’re not heavy.” She winced at his sharp tone and he sucked in a steadying breath. “You’re healthy. There’s a difference and you have to start seeing that or you’re never going to be happy.”
He expected her to decry his statement but she gave him a wry smile. “I hate the fact that the exercise is working.”
Now he really didn’t understand her. “Why?”
“Because it means you were right and I’ve got no excuses not to do it.”
