Chapter Three: Your Shot
Chalk
“Mom, I miss you. I want to see you. I have Mr. Bear here, and he’s sending you kisses and hugs to get better.”
I glanced at my daughter with more than a pinch of regret. She was hoping to see her mom, as usual.
“I don’t wanna go to California!” Sarah stomped her foot. “I want to stay here. My friends are here.” She pouted.
I put the phone down. She’d just finished talking to her mom, and they’d been laughing together on the phone. Then came the usual argument.
“Ok calm down, you don’t have to go, but your Mom wants to spend time with you. She’s getting better. It just might be easier if we go there and see her.” I rolled my neck to release the tension building into knots. These conversations were becoming more frequent. Lucy and I weren’t talking to each other as much as we were talking around one another. She was telling me she was improving, and I wondered when she would be able to come see Sarah. I didn’t want to start unraveling that can of worms in my head, so I redirected the conversation with Sarah. “Come on, spark, it’s time for you to get to school.”
“Okay, let me put Mr. Bear back and we can go.” She raced down the hallway, her feet thudding, having me shaking my head. She came back out bouncing around like a jelly bean, ready to go.
I wasn’t keen to take her on the back of the bike yet, but I did promise her in the next couple of years, she would be able to ride on back with me.
For now, it was the car. She got in her seat and sat humming, waiting for me to get in. I cranked the car and we rode with the radio on and Sarah singing.
“You’re starting early this morning. That screech is getting worse. Might be as good as mine,” I said sarcastically.
“Dad, I’m in the school choir. I can sing you know.” She rolled her little eyes at me.
I flipped her lip with my index finger. “You can sing? It’s the quality I’m worried about,” I murmured with a little chuckle. I bunched up, pretending to be scared, as she flapped her little hand on my arm.
“Dad! I’m a good singer,” she exclaimed as I stopped the car.
I raised my eyebrows as I pulled up out the front of the school gate. “Great, now you can sing to your friends all the way to class. I will see you later. Have fun in class.” I shooed her away.
She leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek as she got out of the car then headed for her classroom.
I signaled, waiting for the traffic to pass, and made a 180-turn towards Wheelz. I was a man living my life on the edge of two worlds: strong protector and playful father to Sarah, kick-ass pool shark and motorcycle club member with a dangerous life. I sighed, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel.
Such was the life of a Rebel Saint. A lot of the crew wore many hats.
Angie had agreed to meet me there. Even though she still hadn’t agreed officially to write up another story for the club, I figured over a coffee I might be able to charm her and speed up the process.
As I arrived at Wheelz, Holbeck heat was already hitting the mid-range hot, nothing out of the ordinary for the ‘Sip’ as we affectionately called our state. I killed the engine and stepped out of the car. It always felt odd to arrive at the club without my bike.
Inside, Angie sat with her long blonde hair hanging down her slender back on a stool near the bar.
I strolled over with a smile on my face. “Angie, good to see you.”
She swiveled around, flipping her hair as her jade eyes glittered with spark and a bemused smirk. “I was going to order coffee.”
“Unfortunately, there’s no coffee behind the bar, but if you care to accompany me upstairs, I can whip you up a coffee from the machine.”
“Gotcha. The place seems so empty when there’s no patrons here.” She frowned as she looked around with interest.
“Yeah, it’s a little bare, isn't it?” I looked around observing the layout of Wheelz. When people were in the bar, it lit up with life, and the vibe completely transformed. All walks of life came into the bar, and the Holbeck locals loved the place.
“Okay, then let’s go upstairs. I could use a coffee.” She nodded.
I nodded back. “Great. I hope you have your li’l notepad or whatever else you hot journalists use.”
“I did bring my tape recorder and my trusty pencil and pad, so let’s see what you got.” She scanned the length of me.
I knew she meant something else and while she was hot, I just didn’t feel like she was for me. There had only been one girl for me. Yeah, over the years, I would be interested a time or two, but it never lasted. A single dad came with too much baggage for most women. I did not intend to lead Angie on, so I knew I’d better tread lightly here.