Page 7 of Frosty the Biker

“Okay, I’m gonna get a cart,” he explained as he walked off, but I was already gone.

Fingers steepled, I held them over my nose and mouth as I fought to calm my racing heart and my breathing. I lost track of how long I stood there, blindly staring at the shelves. When I finally got my shit under control, I laughed at myself. She wasn’t here, I assured myself. Then I gripped the shelf in front of me and dropped my head to get my breathing under control.

“Hi,” a small voice said from off to my left. “What’s your name?”

Slowly, I turned my head to see the kid that had spoken. If I thought I’d been a mess when I entered, I was completely knocked for a loop. Because standing at the end of the aisle was the little blond boy from my visions.

I barely registered the sound of the spray paint cans I knocked off the shelf.

“TheOnlyWayIsUp”—APOC

In the back room of the hardware store, I pulled the dust cover off the Street Bob I’d left with my mom. She’d had my uncle start her once a week and take it for a spin to keep her alive. Lovingly, I trailed my hand over the handlebars, then along the tank, over the seat, and then the rear fender. The chrome glistened in the light that filtered through the open door. He’d obviously cleaned her up before I got here too.

“Go ahead. Take her for a spin. I know you’re dying to,” my mom murmured from behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder at her with a wistful smile. “Ah, I don’t know. It’s been over four years.”

Anson lifted his head from my mom’s shoulder. He had two fingers in his mouth, and he grinned around them when he heard me speak.

“You said you were riding a friend’s bike up in Chicago. Surely, they aren’t that different,” she argued.

“They aren’t. I was referring to riding here in New Orleans.”

“Pssh! I’ve never known you to be afraid of a dang thing for one minute of your life.”

“I don’t have my helmet.”

“Guess it’s a good thing your uncle bought you a new one. He was so excited to hear you were moving back. He can’t wait to go riding with you again.” She pointed to a box on one of the shelves with a crushed bow on it. If I wasn’t mistaken, it looked like a recycled Christmas bow.

I chuckled. Then I picked up the box to find it was the one I’d been thinking about getting. How the heck had he known? “He shouldn’t have.”

She snorted. “Try telling him that.”

Looking back at my mom, I sobered. “Does he know about the trouble you’ve been having?”

Her spine stiffened and she pressed her lips flat. “No. And don’t you dare go tellin’ him.”

Shaking my head, I sighed. My uncle was my mom’s much younger brother and the one who taught me to ride when I was just a kid. He gave me the little dirt bike he’d outgrown when I was about five after getting my dad to convince my mom it would be okay. He would’ve been about fifteen at the time.

I loved that thing, though I wiped out more times than I could count before getting the hang of it. My dad was so proud—my mom about had a heart attack. I rode the piss out of that thing on the property my uncle owned out toward the swamps. When I outgrew it, he bought me a bigger one.

Then he bought me the Street Bob—my pride and joy.

My uncle was a member of the Kings of Anarchy MC. Though he kept me and my mom well away from that side of his life, I wasn’t an idiot. I knew exactly what that 1% patch on his cut meant.

“I think you’re making a mistake. He might be able to help. Besides, if he finds out this has been going on and you never told him? He’s gonna be pissed. This store is still part his too, even if he did basically hand it over to you.” I tossed my hands up in the air and huffed in frustration. Then I closed the back door to the alley where the store got its deliveries and locked it.

“I’ll take care of it. I told you I would. You know that while I love you dearly and I’m so happy to have my grandson here, it wasn’t necessary for you to move back home. You left the wonderful new life you’d created for you and Anson to come here and help run a hardware store?” She looked like she was gonna cry. “You worked so hard to become a nurse and you had an amazing job there.”

“Yes, I did, and I’ll have an amazing job here too. I intentionally took some time off before I start here so I could help you out. Now give him to me so you can get to your appointment on time.” I held out my arms and Anson leaned forward. He hugged me tight and my heart damn near exploded. I loved him so much and I wouldn’t trade a minute of the struggle I’d endured during and after my pregnancy because it brought me this perfectly precious little boy.

“Okay, I should only be a few hours tops depending on traffic,” she assured.

“Mom, I wouldn’t care if you stopped for lunch and to see friends after your appointment. I can hold down the fort for you to have a day off,” I insisted.

She rolled her eyes. “I have days off, you know.”

“Well, you should have more.”

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