Page 6 of Holly's Christmas Biker

“So, if you have no kids does that mean you don’t get a Christmas tree?” Ruby asks, sounding alarmed.

“We usually have one at our clubhouse,” I say.

“Is it like Mickey Mouse’s clubhouse?” Mina questions, clapping her hands. “We love watching it!”

Their mom, seeing my cut, starts to giggle but quickly puts her hand over her mouth while shaking her head. “Mina? Remember me telling you about where my job is and the men I met? They’re bikers, sweetpea, and bikers usually have a clubhouse which is nothing like Mickey’s, I promise. They don’t dance and sing like Mickey and his friends.”

Since I’m unsure about this show, I can’t refute what she’s just told her daughter, but I suspect that based on the fact that it’s probably a kid’s show means that the type of dancing done on the program is nothing like what goes on in the clubhouse. Smirking, I think about the bras that Jacki said were dangling from the ceiling fans and realize, if the gorgeous woman in front of me saw that,she’dbe the one running from the clubhouse screaming.

“Well, maybe they should! Singing and dancing is fun, Mama,” Mina says.

I realize I want to get to know this little family better, in spite of my past. Tamping down the old memories that are trying to surface and overtake me, I remember something that might interest the girls. “The club is putting on a small Halloween festival next week on our property. We’re going to have game booths, some rides, and lots of candy. You should bring your daughters and check it out.”

“Can we, Mama? Can we?” Ruby asks, excitedly clapping her hands with a pleading look on her face.

“Please, Mama?” Mina adds, her hands settled on her chest like she’s praying.

A chuckle breaks free as I watch the two of them gang up on their mom until she throws her hands up high in the air, all while she’s managed to hold onto the two small pumpkins. “Let’s find out what time, okay? Remember, I work on the weekends, girls.”

“It’s during the day for the younger kids, then once the sun goes down and it gets dark, we have a corn maze, haunted house, and hayride for teens and adults,” I tell her, hoping my words have enticed her to come. “Hopefully, it won’t affect your job, because I know we’re going to have face painting, and several games the kids can enter like a cake walk, and a duck pond, for little ones,” I tack on.

“That might work,” she muses as she thinks it over. “Okay, girls, I’m not saying yes, but Iwillsay I’ll double check the time, and if Grammy says she’s alright with meeting us there to pick you two up, then we can go.”

“Thanks, mister, for telling us,” Mina says, looking at me. I have a feeling this one has never met a stranger, and that is a trait I hope she grows out of soon. Too many kids go missing, especially this time of year when trick or treating is chaotic for parents and kids run off from them with the aspiration to fill their buckets to the rim.

“Rebel,” I reply. “My name is Rebel.”

“Thank you, Mr. Rebel,” she tells me. “Mama, can we go now? We need to ask Grammy!”

Chuckling, I turn back to my own cart, not having gotten the mom’s name, but hopefully, she’ll show up next weekend and I can find out who she is then. As intrigued as I am right now, I am not about to push for more in the fucking produce department.

CHAPTER

THREE

Holly

“I’m so tired,” I mumble as I make my way into my house after another hectic shift. Right now, I’m mostly working Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, from about three in the afternoon until closing. While Grammy keeps the girls occupied until I wake up, I still try to spend some time with them since it’s not their fault their grandmother is such a cold-hearted, catty bitch, so I’m somewhat running on fumes.

This weekend has been a bit harder, since I got up earlier this morning so that I could take the girls to the festival the Steel Raiders MC was hosting. Because the bar was allowing us to dress up in costumes as well, I basically got two giggling, overly excited girls dressed up. Mina was a fairy, while Ruby was a princess. I still don’t know what the difference was, unless it was the fact that Mina had wings on, because outside of that, they were dressed identically, down to the sparkly leotards and tutus, with tiny tiaras pinned in their hair.

Seeing the handsome biker, Rebel again, was a nice surprise. While he and his club members, outside of the women, that is, were dressed in what I was realizing was their normal attire of jeans, shirt, cut, and heavy boots, I was ready for work and since I’m a huge Wicked and Wizard of Oz fan, I dressed like Dorothy, complete with ruby red slippers. I really wanted to dress like Elphaba, green makeup and all, but the tips have been really good, plus I wasn’t sure how easy it would be to move behind the bar decked out in a witch’s dress.

After Grammy and Pappy met up with me so they could finish the day at the festival with the girls, I went to work and was run off my feet all night long. Still, my purse is holding a wad of cash in tips, and tomorrow is Sunday.

“Thank goodness the girls are going to church with Grammy and Pappy,” I say out loud once I’m inside my home and have kicked my shoes off my numb, swollen feet. I’ll worry about picking them up later. Right now, all I want is a hot shower to wash the sweat and makeup off, and about a gazillion hours of sleep, but I’ll settle for six or seven.

Once I’m in my room, I strip down, tossing my clothes in the laundry hamper to deal with later, and head into the bathroom so I can think about the day.

When visions of Rebel float through my mind, and I recall our time together, a small smile forming on my face.

“Well, I’m glad to see the three of you made it,” Rebel says, walking up to me and the girls.

“Hi, Mr. Rebel! Do you like my painted face?” Mina asks, twirling in place. She has delicate butterflies covering her cheeks, complete with glitter which I suspect will still beclinging to everything months later. It’s what glitter does, after all.

“You look like a sparkling fairy, did Jacki paint your face for you?” he asks, his voice full of humor. Like me, he probably realizes I’ll be scrubbing and plucking glitter from places and bits they don’t belong from here until the end of time.

“The pretty lady with the red hair?” Mina questions, looking at him.

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