I remember my relief when she came out of the closet and I realized it wasn’t me; it was my gender that was lacking. That can’t have been an easy time for her. A small town this size, anyone different than what people consider the norm stands out like a sore thumb.
“I remember her. Used to crush on her,” I admit with a grin.
“Hell, yeah. Me too and I’m guessing we weren’t the only ones. She’s still pretty but so is her wife.”
I turn to him with raised eyebrows.
“Wife?”
“Gay marriage was legalized in 2015, brother. She didn’t waste any time. They’ve got a couple of kids too.”
I try not to think too hard about the logistics. It’s not my business.
“Good for her,” I mumble.
“Was married myself for a spin.”
I throw him a side-glance and catch him with a lopsided grin on his face.
“Who was the unlucky lady?”
“Fuck you. You wouldn’t know her. I met her at a bike rally in 2005. She got on the back of my bike and came back to Beaverton. Got hitched three months after.”
“What happened?”
He shrugs. “She was wild. Couldn’t keep up with all the shit she was into. Called it after barely a year.”
“No offspring?”
“Fuck no. She was so far from mother material, it’s not even funny, and honestly, I wasn’t ready to be any kind of parent myself.”
“And now?” I ask, glancing over again.
I’m curious. It’s an issue I struggled with, especially at first; the knowledge I’d never have kids. There’d been a time I wanted that—kids, a family—but I would never put the burden of having a murderer for a father on a child. Fuck, I lived it.
Jimmy shrugs. “Whatever happens…happens. But I have it on good authority, I should probably meet a good woman first.”
I chuckle as he pulls open the door to the diner. It looks pretty much the same, although I can tell there’ve been some upgrades.
“Fucking Gray Bennet!”
Well, shit.
I notice the heads swiveling in my direction before I see an older, but still beautiful, version of Kim heading my way. The smile on her face is not exactly the welcome I expected, nor is the bone-crushing hug she folds me in.
Jesus. I have to firmly remind my body this woman is as out of reach as the stunning New York stranger who’s been plaguing my dreams.
“Kim,” I grunt, peeling myself from her hold.
“God, it’s good to see you. How long have you been back? I’ve heard rumors you were in town.”
“You too. Been back since July.”
She opens her mouth to say something else when she suddenly seems to realize we’ve become the center of attention.
“Shit,” she hisses, leaning into me. “We’re gonna have to catch up later. I’m short a waitress today.”
Relieved, I nod before following Jimmy to the round table in the corner where four tough-looking guys sit, watching us approach.
“Tank,” the one with the bald head and goatee says to Jimmy.
“Rooster,” he answers.
“Tank?” I repeat before I can check it.
My friend grins sheepishly. “My road name.” Then he turns to the men. “Guys, meet Gray. Gray, from right to left; Bear, Tattoo Bob, Shortie, and that’s Rooster.”
The guys grunt a greeting and I return the favor before taking a free seat. Kim shows up shortly after to take orders.
I eat and mostly listen to the conversation centering around an upcoming event in Kalamazoo these guys are heading to next weekend.
“You coming?” Shortie asks me. A tongue-in-cheek name, since he’s at least six four, if not taller.
“We need someone to haul the trailer,” Bear adds.
“You should.” Jimmy nudges me. “It’s like a giant swap meet. You can find every fucking motorcycle part you can imagine. I bet you they even have those parts you were missing on that old Knucklehead of yours.”
“Would be a moot point since that bike is long gone,” I point out.
I found that old bike at the dump out in Clare, when I was digging around for parts for my Mustang. It was missing a back wheel and most of the engine block was stripped for parts, but the seat, the frame, and the tank still looked to be in good condition, so I loaded it up on my old pickup.
It was supposed to be my project after I got done the Mustang, but that never happened.
“It’s in my parents’ garage,” Jimmy explains. “When the bank foreclosed on the farm, I managed to haul it out of the barn.”
I’m not sure what to say. I didn’t think there’d be anything left after my lawyer notified me the farm was gone. I know it’s probably a pile of unsalvageable rust by now, but it means something he cared enough to hang on to it for me.
“I…” I have to clear my throat before I can continue. “I’ll come. Next weekend; I’ll come.”
“Sorry to interrupt.” Kim walks up to the table and turns to Jimmy. “One of my girls is stuck on Dale Road, about fifteen minutes out of town with a dead engine.”
“Fuck. Sorry, guys. Rain check for me.” He starts getting up when I grab his arm and pull him back down.
“I’ll go. What does she drive?” I ask Kim.
“Black Mazda Tribute.”
I get out of my seat and grab my wallet from my back pocket, but Kim stops me.
“On the house if you get my girl off the side of the road before all light is gone. Nothing but trees out there.”
“Keys for the tow truck are on the tackboard in the office,” Jimmy says. “I owe you one.”
“Fuck no. I’m not even close to paying you back.”
Before he has a chance to respond, I make my way through the diner, ignoring a few curious stares. The crisp night air feels good as I jog the two blocks back to the shop. It’s still twilight, but it can get dark real fast up here. A girl alone, on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere
