“How old is she?”
“Eighteen.”
“Blanche, I have a hard time believing you have a daughter that old.”
She laughs. “If nothing else, you’re good for my ego.”
“I’ll be good for a lot of things trust me.”
“Cocky.”
“So, I’ve been told. How about lunch?”
“I can do that. When and Where?”
“Say thirty minutes. You pick.”
“Oh, Jeez, no pressure. What do you like to eat?”
“Anything, I’m not picky.”
“Do you like Mexican food?”
“Yeah.”
“How about Colima’s in Oceanside.”
“I’ve never been there before, but I can find it.”
“I’m looking forward to breaking you into one of Oceanside’s hidden treasures.”
“I like that you’ll be my first.”
She laughs. “You’re too much. You know that? I’ll see you at noon.”
Her laughter is still ringing in my ear as I rise from the bed. She’s loosening up, and I like what I see. She told me her marriage had been dead in the water for years, but she stayed for her daughter. I asked her what made things come to a head and she danced around the answer like Carl Mayweather. She could keep her secrets for now. God knows I have enough of my own. I shrug on my cut and leave the dorm room I’ve been crashing in. It’s a Monday, and things are slow.
The car garage is being held down by prospects, and my shift at the weed dispensary won’t kick in until tomorrow morning. The club is silent. There are a few older members posted at the bar and playing dominoes at a table against the far wall. I nod a greeting, and they return the gesture. I like how well the Kings of Chaos take care of their retired members. The most basic rule states: If you can’t ride, you can’t hold a patch, but these men have paid their dues and paved our way. How could we kick them out because arthritis or some other ailment has set in? We can’t.
So, they serve as advisors, hang out and tend the club in our absences. It keeps everyone happy, the boys more grounded, and our family unit tight. It’d be hard to stay in a club that kicked your grandpa out when he got too old. I step out into the sunlight and admire the crisp blue sky with thin clouds. It’s the perfect day for a ride.
I pull the bike into a parking lot outside of the restaurant the GPS guided me too. Just a walk from the beach, the small building is tucked away beside a coffee shop and across the street from a Barber. The men in uniform remind me that Oceanside is very much a military town, it being just outside the base, Camp Pendleton. I’ve driven around the area a lot on my bike. California has the best weather and winding roads for a biker lifestyle. We don’t have to pack our machines away from a few months for a cage when the snow hits or worry about salt eating away our bikes. I’m originally from the Mid-West, so I know all about cold. The memories try to rush in, and I slam the door shut before they can claw at my insides with their sharp claws. Today is about the future, not the past. I spot her lounging in front of the coffee shop in a blue plastic chair. She smiles at me shyly over the rim of her coffee cup. The off the shoulder white dress makes her sienna colored skin glow. Her hair tumbles down around her oval shaped face, and the gray sun hat and oversized sunglasses work for her.
I want to see her big brown eyes so I can read her. I climb from the bike and walk over to meet her. She’s not taller than five foot eight inches, but she has legs for days. I want to hike up her dress and see if her thighs are as thick as I hope they are. I fight back the urge to lick my lips. Suddenly I’m ravenous for more than burritos.
“You look beautiful, Blanche.”
“Thank you. You’re pretty handsome yourself. Aren’t you hot in all that, though?”
“I’m used to it. I’d prefer the heat over road rash all over my body if I laid my bike down.”
She cringes. “You make a habit of that?”
“Smart ass. Of course, I don’t. But safety now prevents tragedy later.”
“I like that. You ready to hop in line before the lunch rush descends? I figured we could take our food over toward the beach so we can avoid the crowd that’ll descend in here.”
“Sounds good to me. Lead on. I’m the beginner here.”