“Mom, let us in,” a young boy said as he tried to squeeze between Isa and the Harley.
“Hang on.” Rock chuckled. “I gotta get off the bike.” He swung his leg over the leather seat, then wrapped his arms around Isa and her children in a big bear hug. From the corner of his eye he saw Clotille standing off to the side, watching the family reunion. She’d done a great job traveling the long distance from Colorado to Louisiana on the back of his bike, and, to his surprise, he’d fucking loved her warm arms clinging around his waist. The way her tits pressed against his back was a major bonus. He normally liked riding solo but every once in a while, if a chick was an especially good lay, he’d reward her by taking her for a spin on his Harley. In his experience, chicks were suckers for that kind of thing. But having Clotille hold on to him was something entirely different. It was like they fit together, their bodies molding as one.
Don’t start these pussy-assed observations. It would have felt good if any chick’s tits were against you for that long. Remember, she’s lying to you and keeping too many damned secrets. Not fuckin’ interested in figuring it all out.
“Is that Clotille?” Isa whispered in his ear.
“Yeah.” He turned to her. “Clotille, get over here and say hi to Isa. These two hoodlums are her kids.” He picked up a giggling child in each arm. “Maybe we need to go shopping to get you some presents.”
His niece’s and nephew’s eyes lit up. “Did you bring us anything from Colorado? Are the mountains really as big as they are in movies?”
“Michael! That’s not polite.” Isa’s brows knitted.
“It’s perfectly okay to figure out what kind of loot you’re going to get. Yeah, I got you something, and yeah, the mountains are big as hell.” He laughed and set the two kids down next to Clotille, who had sidled up beside him. “Isa, you remember Clotille.”
Isa nodded as her eyes scanned the other woman. “Yes. It’s been a long time. How’ve you been?”
Clotille smiled. “I’ve been okay. It has been a long time. Look at you—a house, family, husband. It must be nice.”
Watching her children rifle through the saddlebags on the Harley, she shoved her hair out of her face. “It can be, and sometimes not so much, but I don’t know what I’d do without these twopetits.” She ruffled Michael’s and Aline’s hair. “Vite alors!Let your Uncle Rock come into the house.”
Rock pulled out a multi-colored stone with an acrylic dome over it and a tarantula sitting on it, immortalized forever. He handed it to Michael. “You can find these creeping around in southern Colorado. The rocks are found in the Rocky Mountains where I live. See all those gold streaks?”
Michael’s eyes opened wide as he took the gift in his small hands and tapped on the dome. “Cool. Uncle Rock gave me a spider. Look, Mom. Is that real gold?”
Rock nodded. “Real gold flecks.” He handed Aline a doll with long blonde hair in ringlets dressed in prairie clothes with several other outfits.
Aline’s hazel eyes sparkled. “Thank you, Uncle Rock.” She shyly took the doll he handed her and hugged it tightly.
“Let’s go in the house. Charlie’s still at work, but he wants to take us all to dinner when he gets home.”
Clotille’s eyes darted to Rock. “Yeah, well, we’re kinda bushed. It’s a damn long ride, you know?” he told Isa.
“I didn’t even think about that. I’ll call Charlie and tell him we’ll go out tomorrow. We can have pizza tonight.”
“Pizza! Yay!” The two kids jumped in the air and then dashed up the walk to the house.
Rock laughed and slipped his arm around Isa, pulling her to him. “I’ve missed you. Your kids are pretty fuckin’ cute. It’s good to be back.”
She looped her arm around his waist and they went inside as Clotille followed behind.
When Isa and Rock were alone at last—Clotille had lain down for a nap and the children were playing—he sat at the kitchen table, guzzling a bottle of beer. “You mind if I smoke in here?”
“I don’t want you smoking pot around the kids.” She brought over a pitcher of lemonade and placed it on the table.
“The kids aren’t around.”
“I know, but the smell and all.” She poured the lemonade in her glass. “Charlie wouldn’t like it.”
He slipped the joint back in his pocket. “That’s cool. I can smoke later in the open.”
A worried frown crossed her forehead. “Be careful. It’s not legal here. I mean, if you really want to, we could go out on the patio.”
He stood up. “Let’s go.” He ambled out back and lit up his joint, the mellow effect taking hold as he smoked. “Clotille doesn’t want her family to know she’s back in town. She really doesn’t want anyone to know right now, so don’t tell anyone, okay?”
“Okay, but why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s got some shit going on with Armand and her mom. She wants to lay low for a while before she tells anyone.”
