Ride Steady(46)

Further, the goal for the evening was mostly my girlfriends picking up guys or them saying catty things about every other woman at the bar. Since I had a guy (then), I was odd man out on the first part. And I’d never liked the second part. It was mean.

This made me feel unsettled because all of a sudden, it made me wonder why I went out with them at all when I’d never really had any fun.

I’d long since wondered why I’d had the friends I had, all the way back to high school, when I didn’t feel I fit in with them, but especially when they dumped me after Aaron did.

Even though I’d wondered, I’d also not come to any conclusions.

“So,” Tabby continued, taking my mind off these things, “first of all, biker bitches aren’t big on lots of clothes and by that I mean they show skin. But you dress however you’re comfortable. Casual, though. You might feel weird if you show up all dolled up.”

“Okay,” I agreed.

“And since Ty-Ty and Lanie are home with their kids, so the only folks you’ll know are some of the boys, who might be otherwise engaged, and me, I’ll text you when Shy and I get there so you’ll know you have someone to hang with.”

Again, super nice.

“Thanks, Tabby.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said. “Also, kinda anything goes and privacy is sometimes not an issue. Just so you know.”

“Uh… what?” I asked in confusion.

“Makin’ out, bein’ loud, groping, smokin’ pot, you name it, it could happen,” she explained. “You’re not into something, the family is what it is because everyone in it wants the freedom to be just that, so no one will push anything on you. But you should know.”

That was nice too. A little frightening, I wasn’t big on marijuana (though I’d never tried it; still, I didn’t intend to). But it was still nice.

So I again said, “Thanks,” to Tabby.

“We girls gotta look out for each other.”

That wasn’t my experience.

Nevertheless, I said, “Right.”

“Okay, I gotta go. I’ll text you when we’re there tomorrow and I’ll see you there. Yeah?”

“Yes, and thanks again.”

“No probs, babe.”

“See you later.”

“Yeah, later, Carissa.”

She hung up.

I put my phone on the counter and stared at it, feeling a variety of things.

First, I was a little afraid. A biker party would be something all new to me, and I had a feeling parts of it would be shocking, parts of it I wouldn’t like. But all of it would be Joker’s world, and I liked Joker, so I had to be brave and nonjudgmental. Things might get crazy, but my experience so far was that, surface and deep down, these people were good people. They accepted me how I was; I had to do the same.

I was also more than a little nervous. Joker would be there and, again, I liked Joker. But he seemed at odds about how he felt about me. And I’d never had to try to catch the eye of anyone. I caught Aaron’s eye when I was fourteen and that was it. It wasn’t that I was out of practice, I’d had no practice. And I liked Joker enough it meant a lot that I could beat down that shield he had up for whatever reason. I just had no idea how to go about doing that.

Further, I was a little confused. Mostly about why I barely knew this man but all of this seemed so important to me. Very important. More important than, rationally, it should be.

But last, and most, I was excited. Things had been terribly lonely since I lost Aaron. Joker’s question about when I got to live my life had hit home. I had no life. I had my son and I had my work and I had my worry about what was going to hit me next.

But I had my son. And I wasn’t teaching him anything that was good if I taught him life was narrow. If I taught him that life was about sacrifice, not about living. If I had nothing but him to make me happy, rather than just being happy all around with things to do and good friends to do them with.

So I was excited. I was excited I suddenly had places to be, things to do, and people to do them with.

And I was excited to have exciting things to think about.

Those things being Joker. How his beard felt against my skin when he was kissing me. How he tasted. How tight his arms closed around me. How I wanted to know what his hair felt like (I should have taken that shot when I had my arms around him, but his shoulders felt so lovely, I didn’t). How I wanted to know what was behind that guard he had over his eyes. How I wanted to know if he liked my pie.