“What’s that smile for?”
“I don't know.” I shrug, embarrassed at being caught. “It just seems like taxes is something that an outlaw motorcycle club shouldn't be worried about.”
Judge raises an eyebrow. “Wheels Up is my business and has shit all to do with the club. And Al Capone was taken down for taxes, honey. No man messes with the IRS.”
Judge leaves me with a pile of work and I'm grateful that there is so much of it. Concentrating on sorting the bills alphabetically, making sure that they have been entered properly into the software program which fortunately is very close to the one that I used at the church, makes it easy for me to think about things other than my messed up personal life.
Chapter Four
Michigan
“We need to take care of business,” Easy says on the phone as I'm driving back to Fortune.
“It’s about time.” I’ve been waiting to clean house ever since I saw Annie in her dad’s basement nearly flayed alive. It eats at me that the man who spawned her is breathing the same air as us.
“There’s just too much on her plate right now. Someone looking suspiciously like Annie and claiming to be her mother showed up at the house today.” He’s put me on speaker and I hear the clink of metal against metal. Easy must be at the granary today working out.
“We doing her too?”
“I think we ought to hold off on that but I’m not opposed because I can see Annie getting stressed out about it and I don’t like that, particularly now she’s pregnant. Let’s see how it all shakes out. I talked to Judge about having a vote over getting rid of Bloom.”
“How’d he take that?” My fingers tighten around the steering wheel. Either way, approval or no approval, Bloom is going down. I’d prefer it if we had the okay from the club but I’m killing him no matter what.
“He has no problem with it so long as there is no blowback to the club. He also reminded me that it's hard to parent while you’re in prison.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I’d killed my share of men and never once had a whiff of the law on my tail. I knew how to kill and how to make sure we’d get away with it. Judge should know that too. Most of the deaths occurred because he’d ordered them.
“So one of the questions they asked me at the clinic today was whether we wanted to have a paternity test.”
Shit, that had not occurred to me. I knew there were whispers around town about our living arrangements. Easy and I were not shy when we went out with Annie. One or both of us had our arm around her at all times. She’s ours and we like making our claim public. Not everyone is accepting of us but I don’t give two fucks. “What’d Annie say to that?”
“I think she’d rather not know. I figure any baby that comes out of her belly is both of ours.”
“Agree.”
“Good, then I think we ought to move up our wedding plans to get you hitched to Annie.”
“What’s that mean for you?”
“It’s your name going on the birth certificate, I suppose, and the baby would have your last name but I’m okay with that. We can do it the other way with the next baby she has.”
“That’d get tongues wagging.” I snort.
“Yup, but as long as we’re okay then it don’t matter. We just all need to be on the same page. Doesn't matter to me what a piece of paper says,” Easy says. “What matters to me is that we take care of Annie and that we live a good, happy life with plenty of fucking and laughter. Hell, with three parents, we ought to have a passel of kids.”
“You’re not the one who has to pop them out.”
“Good point. Maybe a half a passel then. Like a basketball team instead of a baseball team.” Easy’s clearly thrilled with being a daddy. Me? I’m a little terrified. I know nothing about parenting other than not to abandon the kid. But maybe just showing up is half the battle.
Speaking of shitty parents, though… “What's the deal with Annie’s mom?”
“No clue.” He grunts and I wait for the clang as the barbell hits the posts. “Annie didn’t take it well. She nearly collapsed and begged me to take her to Wheels Up. I dropped her off there and she's promised to call the doctor. She says it’s okay so long as she stays away from any fumes. Judge got her a mask she’s supposed to wear if she goes into the garage but the office should be fine.”
I’m not a fan of Annie working. “Aren’t pregnant women supposed to be at home in their beds?”
“Yeah, you don't want to bring that up with her. If you do then make sure I'm there.”
“So you can back me up?”
“Oh, hell no. I want to watch the explosion.” He laughs.
Okay, so telling Annie to stay home and lie in bed all day isn’t one of my better ideas. “I’ll be in town in about 45 minutes. When are we having church?”
“Before the mash on Friday night.”
“Sounds good.” I lean over to press the end call button when Easy pipes up.
“One more thing. We’re taking Mom out to dinner tonight.”
“Come again?”
He snorts his disgust at the whole thing. “She thought she’d stay with us and so I lied and told her we had too much construction going on. You might want to put a couple paint cans in the guest room just in case. I have a feeling that Annie's going to end up asking her mom to stay with us.”
“Why can’t she stay at Bright’s Motel?”
“I suggested that but the chick was not happy with that idea. My guess is she’ll play the ‘poor me’ routine at dinner and Annie will cave.”
Someone calls his name. “I’ve got to go, but my grandma says that Mrs. Bloom is ‘vain and selfish’ so approach with caution.”
“Do I pretend I'm a friend?”
Easy snorts. “Fuck no, man. We don't hide who we are to no one, least of all Annie's deadbeat mother.”
I hang up and stew for the rest of the ride back to the factory where I trade the delivery truck for my bike. Mrs. Bloom's appearance raises a whole host of questions, not the least of which is why she thinks she's got to stay with her daughter when she hasn’t paid an ounce of attention to her for years.
When I roll up to our house, there’s a powder blue four-door Honda sitting next to the curb. After pulling into the driveway, I watch in my rear view mirror as she steps out of her car. Part of me can appreciate that this is a good-looking woman and that Annie’s going to be a good-looking woman when she’s fifty too, or however old her mom is. But mostly I’m wondering what the hell she's doing casing our house. Has she been parked there all morning?
I park my bike on the cement pad we laid shortly after buying this place. The house was a shit hole when we bought it four years ago. Since then, we’ve put a lot of time and sweat equity into fixing it up. It has a new roof, new siding, and all new appliances and flooring. After convincing Annie to move in, we added on a brand-new bedroom and bathroom to accommodate our new family. One of the existing bedrooms will have to be turned into a nursery. Fuck. A nursery. A big-ass grin spreads over my face. It’s finally sinking in. I’m going to be a dad. My baby is growing in Annie’s belly and after some months we’re going to have a little person in the house. Ho-lee shit.
Maybe I didn’t have any good examples of parenting growing up but I can use that as a guide toward what not to do.
I slide my leg over my bike and amble toward the side door cut into the garage. I can see her closing in but I pretend I don’t and step inside the garage, locking the door behind me. From inside the garage I can hear the doorbell ring. The shrill sound echoes once and then twice as she impatiently presses it again as if I didn’t hear the damn thing the first time.
I take my sweet time hanging up the spare helmet I had to wear since my main one got cracked when I threw it against the wall. I’ll have to get a replacement for that. I stop to get a drink of water in the kitchen and the doorbell rings three and then four times. Impatient cuss, I think. I rinse out my glass and turn it upside down on a towel to air dry and then fina
lly go to the front door. I open it a crack.
“Sorry, no soliciting here.”