I make sure to pay the cheese tax to Bud as I melt the cheese into the scrambled eggs. He gets a slice any time we open the cheese drawer, mainly because his hearing is impeccable and he comes running when he hears the crinkle of the cheese wrapper. I pop two pieces of bread in the toaster and wait for them to have a little crispiness before I pop them out and add some mayo, then the eggs. I cut in half diagonally and pour Cass a glass of orange juice. I set his plate on the table and pop my head in the bedroom. He's dressed and ready, lacing up his boots.
"Breakfast is ready," I tell him.
He rubs his hands together with way too much enthusiasm. "I love it here."
I laugh at his playfulness. I've missed this. He's so much more...alive now that we aren't constantly looking over our shoulders, waiting for the next shoe to drop.
I clean up the mess in the kitchen while Cass scarfs down the sandwich I made him. "Is it just us heading north?" I ask, closing the door of the dishwasher and turning it on.
"No. There are a few of us going," he says.
"Okay. Are we about to head out?" I ask, treading carefully. I'm not interrogating him and I don't want him to feel that way.
"Yeah, I just have to load the truck, and we'll be on our way."
I give Buddy extra snuggles before heading out to the truck to crank it and make sure the air is on cold. We're nearing the end of the summer months, but that doesn't mean much here. We'll have "summer" temps well into October and November.
I connect my phone to the Bluetooth in his truck and play my music on shuffle before he has the chance to connect his. It's about to be a car concert kind of road trip and Cass has no idea what he's signing up for. Cass opens the driver side door and stares at me as soon as he hears the music playing through the speakers. I offer him a sly grin and he climbs in, laughing.
"Let the torture begin," he says, putting the truck in gear.
We spend the next eight hours laughing and singing and eating road trip snacks. Cass has a bag of sunflower seeds he's been working on for the last three hours. We exit and I immediately recognize the pie building. I made sure not to eat too much because I want to eat my weight in these pies.
The lady at the counter isn't the same as the lady that was working the counter when we were here last time, but that doesn't change the flavor of the pies, so I'm good with it. I order the coconut cream and the chocolate cream and Cass opts for two different savory pies, the polish sausage and potato one and a sausage, egg, and cheese.
I swear this man could eat breakfast for every meal of the day. I take a seat while Cass grabs us a few drinks. He sits down next to me, and we wait patiently for the savory pies to be done. I've already got mine, but the savory ones are made to order. I decideto be nice and wait for Cass to get his before digging in, but the struggle is real. My mouth is watering.
Cass breaks his in half, and I do the same. We snack on all of the pies, a smorgasbord of yummy goodness. We have one hour left to get to the clubhouse and somehow Cass's phone has been radio silent the entire trip. That usually doesn't happen very often. When we turn into the clubhouse, I see Lawsyn's Escalade in the driveway and I'm excited to see her. I wonder if she will be around a good bit while I'm here.
Cass opens the door for me and we walk inside. It's a Thursday afternoon and there isn't much going on. I'm glad, because I don't feel like entertaining people. It's been a long day. Fuck, it's been a long year. I don't know how I've made it this long.
Walking down the hallway of the entryway of the clubhouse makes me feel so many different emotions. The photos lining the wall, dating back thirty years is surreal. Moments in time, frozen where they sit. The photos of Brock and Clayton and Cass's uncle Wyatt, the group photos. Photos of some of the members and their ol' ladies. Clayton and Adelaide's wedding photo always puts a knot in my throat.
I stare at it, seeing the changes in the foreground of Turner Falls. I pause and pull my phone out, snapping a picture of the picture. I want to make sure we take one as close to this one as possible. The thought of pictures for the wedding slaps me in the face. I need to hire a photographer. We may not be doing the traditional wedding, but I need professional photos to last me a lifetime.
Besides, we've never taken nice pictures and we need one of us and Buddy and I can think of no better occasion. I trail behind Cass, stuffing my phone into my pocket. Junk and Lawsyn are sitting at the bar, talking quietly when we enter the room.
"You made it!" Junk greets, shaking Cass's hand.
"This trip's always an easy one. Now we just have to wait for the rest of the guys to carry their slow asses up here," Cass says jokingly, giving Lawsyn a hug before sitting down.
Lawsyn breezes around Cass after she hugs him to wrap me in her arms. "Lilly! I'm so excited about this wedding!"
"Me too. Hey, you know any local photographers that are good at shooting weddings?" I ask, following her to the lounge area with the couches.
"Oh, honey, do I! Nova is the resident photographer. Let me show you some of her work!" she praises, opening her phone. She opens one of the social media apps and searches Nova's photography page, swiping through beautiful, elegant images. There are so many stunning wedding images.
"Wow," I whisper, watching intently as she swipes through a plethora of images.
"I told you. She's amazing," Lawsyn says with pride.
"Here," she says, opening her personal camera roll. She clicks on an album titled LHMC and inside are beautiful, bold, colorful images of the guys in the club. There are tons of group photos, photos from events, and even some taken right here in the clubhouse.
"Okay. I need to hire her immediately, if she'd be willing!" I say enthusiastically.
"I'll text her right now, but I just know she will be honored!" Lawsyn squeals.
She sends the text then sets her phone down. "Are you nervous?" she asks.
