Page 23 of S is for SEX

He tilted his head back. “Cholo!”

“What is it, Peeb?” The motorcycle guard barked.

“Appreciate ya,” Brad shouted.

“Fuckers forever,” he responded.

“Forever Fuckers,” Brad said with a laugh.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Starving,” I responded.

We meandered through the motorcycles side by side, laughing about Bradley’s Sunday dinner set-up, the day we met, and the ridiculous midnight sex rule.

When we got to the food tent, he motioned to a picnic table that was sparsely occupied. “Have a seat,” he said. “What do you want?”

“Anything, really,” I said. “I like any kind of barbeque.”

“Drink?”

“Water, tea, anything.”

“Be right back,” he said with a nod.

I sat at the end of the table, recognizing the few people who were seated there from the morning meeting in the parking lot. After exchanging a few glances with them, the faint sound of my phone ringing got my attention.

Embarrassed, but quite curious as to who might be calling, I pulled it from my pocket. The telephone number was local, I didn’t recognize it.

With slight reluctance, I answered it. “Hello.”

“Tegan?”

“Yes, this is Tegan. How can I help you?”

“Tegan, hun. This is Deann. I tried to call Brad, but he didn’t answer. Are you together?”

She seemed well-composed, so I was sure everything was okay.

“We’re in Palm Springs. Yes, he’s with me. Do you want me to have him call you?”

“Hun, we need you to come home. It’s Bradley, he’s…” Her voice became soft and fragile. She cleared her throat. “they just took him away in an ambulance.”

I felt sick. I broke into a cold sweat.

My lip quivered uncontrollably. The inevitable was happening.

“Hun?”

“I’m here,” I murmured. “Is he. Is he...okay?”

“I don’t know, sweetie. I’m leaving now. They’re taking him to Scripps Mercy. It was a heart attack.”

“We’ll be there as soon as we can,” I sobbed.

“Okay. Thank you, hun.”

I hung up, jumped to my feet, and took off in a dead run toward the front of the tent.

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