The front door opens, and more members file in. Soon, we’re all gathered around one of the tables beyond the pool tables.
Benny plops down beside me, bumping his shoulder against mine. “How you doing, kid?”
Rex is telling a story on the far side of the circle, so I keep my voice down. “I’m doing alright, just putting those pieces back together little by little.”
“You’ll get there.”
“Yeah, we will.” As soon as I say the words, I realize how true they feel.
Before moving here, I would have said the same thing, but I doubt I would have really believed it. Coming to Aspen Springs was a breath of fresh air not only for Oliver but for me as well.
We decide on a date and time to go on another group ride around one of the lakes outside of town. You never really know when winter will hit in the high country, so we decide to do it soon before it’s too cold and slick to do so.
This high in the mountains is probably not the best place to be operating a motorcycle club, but I don’t give a shit. I know no one else here cares, either.
Everyone’s reason for riding is different. For me, it has always been my kind of therapy.
It probably isn’t the healthiest solution, but as far as coping mechanisms go, it could be way worse. There’s just something about the peace I find riding along a quiet road with the wind whipping around me.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m thinking about riding my motorcycle as an escape or because I’m sitting in the very place where I met her three years ago, but my mind wanders to Abby.
I turn to look at the bar and the two seats we sat on three years ago. So much has changed since then.
What is she doing now? Is she happy?
Does she still think about me the way I think about her? Probably not…
With a quiet sigh, I bring my attention back to the people here with me now. I need to actually listen to everything that’s being said.
I didn’t think it was necessary, but a few weeks ago, they all decided I was going to be the president of our little group.
My eyes lock with Linc from across the circle. “You okay?” he mouths.
I give him a small nod. He eyes me for another minute before diverting his attention elsewhere.
Things might not be perfect, but they are getting better every day. That’s what I have to hold onto right now.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Abby
“Mom, look,”Mav says, waving a piece of paper in my face. I’m not even all the way in the house yet.
“Give me just a second, bud,” I say, toeing off my shoes and hanging my jacket on a hook by the door. I turn back to face him. “Okay, go for it. Show me.”
He holds up a piece of lined paper with his handwriting on it. “I wrote a note to Oliver’s dad about me maybe hanging out with Oliver sometime.”
“Oh… okay.”
A big smile crosses his face. “Oliver brought it back today because his dad wrote on it.”
He points to the bottom, where a small section is written in pen, not Mav’s pencil.
He hands me the paper. “Can you text his dad? He wrote his phone number on there.” He looks up at me with those big, round eyes that remind me that, despite how mature he acts, he is still only seven. “Please.”
My eyes scan over the slightly slanted script on the page that does include a phone number. “Yeah, bud. I’ll text him.”
Mav wraps his arms around my waist. “Thanks, Mom. Oliver is my best friend, and I just want to hang out with him sometimes when we aren’t at school.”
