by Tess Oliver
He dropped his arm around my shoulder. “Kind of nice having someone on the other side of the pit fence worried about me.”
“Wasn’t just me. One minute we were all standing watching you, and before I even realized anything was amiss, your two friends shot off like they had rockets on their shoes. It was really sweet.”
“Yeah, Cole and Rodeo are a couple of knuckleheads, but I’d do anything for them. We’ve always got each other’s backs.”
“Like true friends. I missed out on those kinds of attachments growing up. You know, that person who you could tell your deepest secrets and fears to, that person who you could exchange secret looks with in a crowded room and they’d know just what you were saying without you saying one word.”
He kissed the top of my head. “You’ve got one now.” He said the words with just enough sadness that I knew exactly what he was thinking. We’d formed this incredible bond, but none of it mattered. Even the strongest connection dissolved if time and distance worked against it.
“What have you learned from watching the video?”
“Not as much as I’d hoped. I was quick to blame it on a square edge.”
“A square edge?”
“It’s sort of like a pothole in the road. The deep, dangerous kind that throws your tire off or makes you lose traction. I was sure my back tire was kicked out from under me, but watching it, I can see a little kick. But it wasn’t all that severe. I should have been more in control. My hands popped off the handlebars. I just wasn’t focused like I should have been.”
I sat for a second, considering whether or not I should ask the question on the tip of my tongue. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer. I took a deep breath. “Was it me? Cole mentioned that you like everything just so when you’re about to jump. Maybe I was your bad luck charm.”
“No, you’re anything but a bad luck charm. You didn’t make me fall. That was my own damn fault. No curses or spells or wrong pair of goggles. I wasn’t focused enough, and in freestyle, your mind has to be one hundred percent on topic.” He shut his laptop. “Should get back to bed before that alarm goes off.”
We got up and headed back down the hall to his bedroom. I climbed into the bed. He slid in next to me, and I snuggled into his arms. “I’m not going to lie though, Jami. Knowing that you’re going to be leaving me soon is messing with my focus plenty. It’s like being given the keys to the magic kingdom and then told ‘have as much fun as you can for a few weeks but don’t get used to it because we’re locking you out after that’.”
“But you won’t be locked out. I’ll be back. We can keep this going. I’ll see you in between tours.”
“How many months of the year are you on the road?”
I thought about it. The number sounded grim even in my head. I didn’t answer. Instead, I pressed my face against his chest, breathing in his scent and trying to lock it in my memory for safe keeping.
Aside from the sound of Denver’s heartbeat against my ear, the house was dead quiet. In the distance, a phone rang. I lifted my head. “That sounds like my ringtone. Phone’s in my purse.” I sat up and lowered my feet to the floor. My heart was racing with the thought of what a middle of the night call could mean.
“It’s probably a wrong number,” Denver called as I raced down the hall to the front room. My purse was on the kitchen counter. I reached in and plucked out my phone. My mom’s number was on the screen. “Hello.”
“Jami,” she said through a sob.
“What is it, Mom? What’s wrong.” I was already relieved to hear her voice. There weren’t many other people I worried about. The fact that my heart had raced with the notion that something may have happened to her, assured me that, like my grandpa, I hadn’t given up hope that the mom I loved might still return.
“Everything’s a mess, Jami. Harold has started drinking again, and I think he’s in some kind of trouble. His gambling has been out of control lately.” She sucked in a shuddering breath, and another sob rolled through the phone.
“I know, Mom. He came here. He was trying to force me into coming back home for the London shows.”
“He went to California?” A sudden flash of anger helped put a quick halt to her sobs. “That bastard told me he was flying to a reunion in Georgia.”
“Well, Mom, I could say I told you so but—well, I guess I just did.”
“So, will you do the London tour?”
“What? How the hell did we go from Harold’s lying and drinking to me doing a performance in London?”
“It’s only a few days, and we could use the money.”
“You are a piece of work, Mom. And I almost fell for the act. You almost had me worried. Did Harold put you up to it? Is the asshole standing right there? Tell him to fuck off.”
“No, he didn’t put me up to this, and it’s no act. We’re in trouble. Harold’s in trouble.”
“I don’t care. That’s totally your problem. You chose the man.”
Denver stood in the doorway. I shook my head to let him know it was nothing major, or at least no one was dead.
“We might need to sell the violin.” Mom said the words fast as if they weren’t important.
“You’ll have to kill me first.” I hung up. I smacked the phone down hard on the counter and walked into Denver’s arms. “As much as I love playing, sometimes I curse the day I picked up my grandfather’s violin.”
Chapter 28
Denver
Normally, I was stoked as hell to reach the weekend after a long work week. But now every weekend was a black mark on a short calendar, a five week span of time that was passing with the speed of light. And to add to my already darkening mood, Cole had invited me up to practice. He’d known exactly what he was doing when he clapped my shoulder and said, ‘jumps at my house Saturday. See you at noon’. He’d left no room for protest. I needed to get back on the bike and the sooner, the better. Cole had said my bike was back from the mechanics, looking fit and ready to ride. Physically, I was ready to blow off some energy and the frustration I was feeling that I’d finally met a woman I could spend my life with but who would soon be walking out the door. Mentally, I wasn’t completely there yet. I’d replayed the crash on my computer and in my head over and over. The stark reality that I was risking my neck with every jump just kept gnawing at my brain like an ugly, oversized rat.
I heard Jami’s footsteps on the stairs and I opened the door. She was dressed and ready to go, but she was biting her lip in thought. “I was thinking maybe it would be better if I didn’t tag along today.” She hopped off the last step and stopped in front of me. That extra splash of daylight that always followed her like a glowing halo was on full display today. It was going to be nothing but gloomy weather when she was gone.
“You’re not still dwelling on that bad luck, superstition stuff, are you?”
“No.” Her thin shoulders lifted and fell with a sigh. “Yes.”
I lifted her chin with my fingers and pressed a quick kiss on her lips. “You are the right in my wrong, the light in my dark, the happy in my sad. Not to mention the mind-blowing sex, which I technically just mentioned. I’m still trying to decide what I did to deserve this.”
She smiled. “Funny. I was just thinking the same thing. If you don’t think I’ll provide too much of a black cloud for your practice, I will tag along. But if I cover my eyes during it all, don’t read anything into it.”
***
Cole was just pushing his bike out of the garage when we walked into the yard.
“Was wondering where you were, east coast. How’s it going, Jami? Kensie just rode up to the back wall on her horse if you want to say hello.”
“Absolutely.” Jami hurried off in that direction.
Cole pushed his sunglasses up on his head. “Your stuff is in the garage. Rodeo is
in the house eating breakfast. Or lunch, I guess. He just got up.” He stared at me. Cole knew me well enough and he knew what a bad crash could do to your confidence. He’d had a few good ones himself. “Just remember, thinking is good. Over thinking is bad. Get your gear on. I’ll meet you out there.”
“Yep. Think I’ll take a few laps on the track first to make sure they glued it back together right.”
“Glue,” Cole laughed. “Classic.”
I headed into the garage. I hadn’t seen my bike since I saw it limping away from the track, looking like a guilty horse that had just thrown its rider. It stared back at me with its one big eye. I walked over and checked the handlebars. The mechanics had taken the tweak out of them and they looked ready.
I yanked off my jeans and pulled on my riding pants and boots. I put on my chest protector and gloves. I grabbed the helmet and goggles out of my gear bag. There was a scratch in the helmet paint but the damage had been minimal. To my head as well, thankfully.
I pushed the bike into the warm sun. Rodeo was just lumbering out of the house.
“Einstein, you’re here. Damn. I had a bet with Cole that you wouldn’t show. Figured you and that big head of yours had already analyzed the shit out of that fall.”
“Yep, I have. Maybe I should switch my big head for a pin headed version like yours.”
“Least I don’t look like a fucking Pez dispenser.” He chucked me on the arm. “See you out there, bro.”
“Yeah.” I pulled on the helmet and goggles. Jami had hoisted herself up onto the back wall. I could see Kensington sitting on her tall horse. Jami was stroking the horse’s face and talking animatedly about something with Kensie. She fit so damn perfectly into my life.
I kick-started the bike and rode over to the small dirt track Cole had built in the center of the property. His dad’s failed vineyard experiment was set far enough from neighbors and the rest of civilization, save a busy highway, that it was the perfect place to ride and practice without people complaining about the noise or dust.
I took it easy and coasted around the first lap. The bike felt as solid as always. I twisted the throttle and took a few fast laps around. On my fourth lap, I saw Rodeo had geared up and was headed out toward the kicker. I pulled off the track and followed him. As I pulled up, Cole motioned toward the jump, to see if I wanted to go first.
I needed to go. If I sat for too long and watched them go first, it would be harder. Kensington had ridden off and Jami was sitting with a wide smile waiting for the first jump. I was sure the smile was more forced than real. The first real experience she’d had watching me ride had ended in disaster. Her confidence was as shaky as mine at the moment.
I headed off toward the far end of the property. It would give me plenty of space to gain speed and hit the kicker at just the right angle. I wasn’t going to do more than a moto whip on the first run.
I circled the bike around. The kicker looked narrow and steep and uninviting. I took a deep breath and twisted the throttle. A cold sweat broke out on my skin and a knot formed like a pit in my stomach. The kicker got closer, but I wasn’t ready. I rolled past to the other side of the yard. I stopped at the end but didn’t have the courage to turn around and see the faces behind me.
I gripped my handlebars and clenched my teeth in anger. “Fucking, stop this shit,” I muttered to myself as I turned the bike around.
I raced full speed back across the property leaving a trail of dust and several worried expressions behind. I got to the end and circled back. I headed toward the kicker and for a second it all came back to me, the feeling of falling through the air without the bike beneath me. That ‘knockin’ on heaven’s door moment’ as Rodeo liked to call it. I roared past the kicker, threw on the brakes and laid the bike down. I climbed off, plucked off my helmet and strode away toward the supply shed on the back side of the house. I walked up to it and plowed my fist into it, leaving behind a nice dent.
I stood there for the longest time, chiding myself for being a fucking coward and for insisting that Jami come along to watch. I walked to the side of the house, to the old gazebo where I’d led Jami to on her first visit to Cole’s place.
I climbed beneath the rusted skeleton of the structure and sat on the even more rusted bench. I looked up to see Jami crossing the yard.
She stopped to smell some roses that were growing on the outside of the gazebo. “These remind me of spiced tea.” She climbed the steps and sat next to me.
“Well, that was one of the most humiliating moments of my life. Nothing like putting one’s cowardice on full display for the woman he wants to impress.” I growled as I leaned back against the rod iron wall and crossed my arms. My hand was throbbing plenty, but it had been worth it.
“Humiliating? Cowardice? Really? What percentage of the population do you think would ever even considering launching into the air on a motorcycle?”
“Only the crazy ones.”
“Exactly. Crazy and fearless. You had a setback with that fall. It happens.” She leaned back with me. “Damn, I’m channeling my grandpa. Oh well, he was the smartest person in the world.” She inclined her head toward me. “Present company excepted, of course. I sometimes forget how smart you are because you are a damn beefcake.”
“If this little chat is supposed to make me feel better . . . it’s working. At least now I feel like a coward but a beefcake coward.”
She laughed. “That’s good. I think.”
I scrubbed my fingers through my hair. “Fuck, can’t believe I balked at that stupid jump.”
“I can. A few years back, I felt that all the music coming off my bow sounded strained and ugly. I just couldn’t get the flow. It got worse every time I picked Stuart up because somehow I’d convinced myself that I couldn’t play anymore. So I stuck Stuart in his case and put him back in the safe.” My face turned toward her and she nodded. “Yes, my mom makes me keep the violin in a safe when I’m at home. I can’t tell you the massive argument we had when I told her I was taking Stuart on vacation with me.” She waved her hand. “Anyway, that’s another crappy moment in time. Let’s refocus on your crappy moment. Anyhow, eventually I got over the fear that I’d lost my ability to play. I started picturing myself no longer playing violin. I tried to imagine what it would be like to never pick up Stuart and run a bow across his strings again. I tried to imagine what it would be like, but I couldn’t do it. There was no way I could live a life without playing violin. So, you need to think about a life where you never ride, or more importantly, jump a motorcycle again. See if it feels natural or impossible to you. Then you’ll know what comes next.” She leaned over, kissed my face and walked away.
I leaned back and closed my eyes and thought about her words. I’d been riding dirt bikes since I was six years old. I started freestyle when I was sixteen and I’d never looked back. Jami was right. I couldn’t imagine my life without it. I’d had a setback, but that was all it was, a setback.
I got up and walked toward my bike. It was lying on its side, looking a little insulted. Sometimes it was easy to see why Jami considered her violin to have human emotions. I saw it in my bike occasionally too. And right now, my bike was saying, ‘I got banged up too, fool, and you don’t see me having a temper tantrum, throwing my fist or stomping off in anger’.
I lifted my helmet off the ground and pulled it on. Rodeo was just climbing on his bike when I fired mine up. Everyone’s attention turned my direction. Jami waved at me once. I took off toward the end of the yard. This time my thoughts were stuck in what the fuck are you doing mode. This time I was thinking about how fucking dull and empty my life would be without FMX.
I raced toward the kicker and the front tire flew up. The horizon line flipped upside down and right side up again and the ground came into view. My tires touched down.
Chapter 29
Jami
&n
bsp; Once he’d gotten his mojo or determination or whatever it was one needed to swing a giant motorcycle through the air back, there was no stopping Denver. He’d even pulled off what he called a flawless cliffhanger but what I called just plain scary.
Denver was playing invisible drums on his steering wheel looking more excited than I’d ever seen him.
I couldn’t hold back a laugh. “You look like the kid who just won the entire soccer match with his last kick.”
“Feeling like that too.” He turned the truck along an off-ramp that I’d never seen before.
“Where are we headed?”
“I’m pretty amped up as you might have noticed.”
“I did notice. Are you ditching the truck to carry me the rest of the way home on your back? Because at the moment, that looks possible. Even with your swollen hand.”
He glanced at his red knuckles. “Forgot all about that. Nope. I’m not ditching the truck. I was going to show you our work site.”
“All right. Sounds interesting.”
We traveled along a stretch of quiet road that looked as if it had been recently paved. Then the massive steel skeleton of an unfinished building loomed in the distance. An impossibly long stretch of chain-link surrounded the entire building project.
“One of the local Native American tribes is building a casino. It’s actually small compared to some of the others around here. It doesn’t look like much yet, but the design is pretty cool.” He hopped out and unlocked a gate and jumped back in the truck. We rode through and then he repeated the process by locking the gate back up. He held up the keys. “I’m sort of one of the big shots. Get to have my own set of keys and everything. Of course, it helps to be best friends with the boss.”
“I believe, to really impress the girl, you’re supposed to say you earned your way to the big shot position by toiling and proving your skills and knowledge.”