by Ali Parker
“Damn,” Samson said, shaking his head. “Poor thing.”
I nodded and helped Samson put the food away. When we finished, Samson followed me into the living room, so I could listen for Mila while we talked.
“She’s sleeping, or I’d say you could go on up,” I said.
“I’ll wait around for a while,” Samson said. “I don’t have any plans until tonight.”
“Date?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Her name’s Heather,” Samson said.
I was too tired to care about Samson’s sex life, so I just nodded and collapsed on the couch. Samson sat down in a chair across from me with a frown.
“You look like hell,” he said.
“Didn’t sleep much,” I said.
“You know she’s not a baby anymore,” he said. “She’ll get you when she needs you. You don’t have to stay up all night with her.”
“Because you know so much about parenting,” I said.
“Only what I’ve learned from you,” he said with a grin. “But seriously, you need to sleep too.”
“I will,” I said. “When she’s better.”
“You can’t take care of her if you’re passed out from exhaustion.”
“You forget that I’ve gone days without sleep,” I said. “One night is nothing.”
“You aren’t in your twenties anymore,” Samson said. “Your tired old body needs more tender love and care.”
“Fuck off.”
Samson laughed and leaned back in the chair. I closed my eyes and tried not to fall asleep. He wasn’t wrong. My body wasn’t used to this anymore. I’d been getting eight full hours of sleep every night for years now. The days of my military stamina were long gone.
“Take a nap,” Samson said when I opened my eyes again. “I’ll listen for her.”
“No, I’m good.” I cleared my throat and sat up straighter.
“If you say so.”
“What’s up?” I asked. “You didn’t just come by to check on Mila.”
“What? I can’t check on my niece?” Samson asked, his tone too innocent.
“You can,” I said. “But you didn’t. What’s up?”
Samson sighed and shook his head as if he couldn’t believe I would dare suggest such a thing. We both knew he was full of shit.
“All right,” he finally said. “We closed on the Frank deal yesterday.”
“I know,” I said. “I got the email.”
“Yup.” He nodded. “Everything went through perfectly. Frank signed. We just have to wait the allotted number of days, and then we can move forward with renovations.”
“I know how it works,” I said suspiciously. “What’s up, Sammy?”
He cringed at my use of his nickname but didn’t say anything. I knew then that he wanted something. It wasn’t like Samson to pass up a chance to complain.
“I want to move on the repair shop,” he said boldly. “We closed Frank’s deal, just like you knew we would, and now, we’re free to focus on other things.”
“Sam,” I began, but he cut me off quickly.
“You said we’d talk about it,” he said. “After we finished with Frank’s restaurant. And we have. So, let’s talk about it.”
“Okay.” I sighed. “You’re right. Go ahead. Make your pitch.”
Samson cleared his throat and sat up straighter. His eyebrows pulled together as he slipped on his best professional demeanor. It didn’t quite fit. To me, my brother would always be the little kid who tagged along behind me. He would always have his hair slightly messy and his fingernails covered in dirt from playing outside. It was almost impossible to see him any other way.
“I crunched the numbers,” Samson said. “And, with a full renovation and proper signage, Tanner Bikes could bring in more than three-quarter mil a year.”
I blinked. That number sounded way too high.
“That’s impossible.” I shook my head. “I’ve seen the location and—”
“It’s not!” Samson said eagerly. His eyes were alive with excitement. “I’ve done my homework, Dec. I know what I’m talking about.”
Samson pulled a flash drive out of his pocket and tossed it to me. He grinned triumphantly as I turned it over in my hand.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Everything you need to get on board with this idea.”
“Sam.”
“Daddy!” Mila called from upstairs.
I made to get off the couch, but Samson held his hand out to stop me. He smiled and jerked his head toward the flash drive as if to say, “You look at that. I’ve got Mila.” Then, he turned and hurried upstairs.
I shook my head and went to grab my laptop. My first instinct was to ignore Samson and go take care of my daughter, but I thought better of it. Samson always took great care of her, and she would be thrilled to see him. Besides, it wasn’t often that my little brother cared this much about a business opportunity. I owed it to him to at least consider it.
With the flash drive clutched in my hand, I grabbed the laptop off my desk and went back to the living room. I sat on the couch and fired up the computer, sticking the flash drive in the port and waiting for the files to load.
After ten minutes of scanning the various documents, I knew Samson was right. He’d done his homework. He’d crunched the numbers, and his math was sound. At first glance, I couldn’t find a single error in his work, which only made my decision that much harder.
I groaned and closed the laptop. This was the part of my job I hated the most, constantly being the decision maker, the one who had final say over everything. It was moments like these when I actually missed my father.
He’d died when Mila was just a baby. In the years since, my mother had remarried. Her new husband Jeff was the only grandpa Mila had ever known. He was a good man. Kind and decent, if not frivolous and overly privileged, much like my father had been when he was alive. The only difference between the two was that Dad’s kindness and decency had never extended to his sons.
I’d taken over the company when he died because my mother asked me to. It was my dad’s wish and, by extension, hers too. I didn’t want to do it, but with Mila to take care of, I didn’t have much of a choice. So, five years later, there I was. Faced with yet another decision. Only this time, my little brother’s happiness hung in the balance.
“So?” Samson said when he returned. “What do you think?”
“How’s Mila?” I asked.
“She’s asleep again,” Samson said. “I got her some water and tucked her in. She said she’s not hungry yet, but you should probably take her something soon.”
“I will,” I said. “Thanks.”
“So?” Samson asked again. “Did you look it over?”
Samson’s hazel eyes were wide and full of hope. I’d never seen him so excited about work. I usually had to drag him to meetings, hold his hand through conference calls, and rewrite all his emails. The fact that he took the time to put in real effort was nothing short of miraculous.
As he stared at me, I knew there was only one decision to make. No matter how strong my doubts were, I couldn’t argue with Samson’s logic or his enthusiasm. We bickered all the time. He was a huge pain in my ass. But, he was my brother, my baby brother, and I couldn’t stand the idea of disappointing him.
“All right,” I said. “Let’s do it.”
“Really?” Samson laughed and clapped his hands together. “You’re serious?”
“I am.” I nodded. “Put together a proposal and get it to me next week. We’ll see what we can do from there.”
“Thank you, Dec,” he said.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” I warned. “You heard Alex the other day. She’s not interested in selling. This isn’t going to be an easy acquisition. It’s going to be an endless, uphill battle, and in the end, we may not even get it.”
“We’ll get it,” Samson said with confidence. “This is what we do, right?”
I nodded, but my mind had a
lready shifted direction. Mentioning Alex had brought her to the forefront of my mind. I’d been so busy with Mila that I hadn’t let myself think about her, but once I started… I couldn’t stop.
“Will you be in on Monday?” Samson asked on his way out.
“No.” I shook my head. “I want to keep Mila home. Make sure she’s better.”
“Good,” Samson said. “That’ll give me time to work on the proposal.”
We said goodbye, and I went to check on Mila. She was already doing better. By that night, her temperature was lower, and she’d managed to eat soup and crackers without getting sick. I knew she’d be better by Monday, but I still wanted to take the day off. Mila was just a great excuse to swing by Tanner Bikes. I owed Alex my thanks for all her help. But mostly, I just wanted to see her again.
14
Alex
When my dad died, Mom and I were left with a mountain of knickknacks and paperwork to deal with. Most everything was thrown away, but we held on to the big stuff. The business went to me. The house went to my mom. And dad’s prized motorcycle, also to me. That bike held more memories of my dad than anything else. More than even the shop, that old Harley Davidson was Henry Tanner.
There were times when I thought about selling it. The money I could get would be enough to get the shop back on track, but I could never go down that road. The idea of parting ways with something so precious to me was heart-wrenching. I would’ve sold everything I owned, including blood and kidneys, before I let myself sell that bike.
My mom never understood my attachment. After Dad died, she’d pushed me to get rid of it.
“You don’t have room,” she said. “Your house is small. You barely have enough room in your garage for your own motorcycle and car. Where will you put it?”
“I can park my car on the street,” I told her.
“Honey,” she said. “There’s no reason to hang on to it for purely sentimental reasons. Your dad would understand if you—”
“No, he wouldn’t,” I said firmly. “Dad left it to me. I’m keeping it. End of story.”
She let the subject drop that day, but she brought it up on and off for weeks after. It wasn’t that she hated the bike or even cared about it at all. She just couldn’t understand how a motorcycle was an important way to remember my father. It wasn’t her fault. Motorcycles had always been our thing. Mine and Dad’s. Mom was kept on the outside, and that, more than anything, fueled her desire to see me part ways with the Harley.
But, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
Ever since I emptied my savings account, I’d been thinking a lot about my dad’s bike. Maybe that was why I decided to take it out for the day. I’d spent all weekend dwelling on my financial problems and endlessly obsessing over my encounter with Declan. Being alone never bothered me, but I couldn’t stand the silence for another second.
I walked Hazel and made sure her water bowl was full before climbing on the Harley and cranking the engine to life. My helmet was tucked away behind me, but I didn’t pull it out. All I wanted was to feel the wind in my hair and the cool ocean breeze whip across my cheeks.
If my mother saw me, she’d be livid. I could still remember the first time my dad put me on the back of his bike.
“What are you doing?” My mom had screamed out of the kitchen window. “Get her off that thing now!”
“She’ll be fine, Pam,” Dad called back. “You worry too much!”
“At least put a helmet on her!”
“We’re just going down the road,” Dad said. “We won’t be gone more than five minutes.”
“I don’t care!”
Twenty years later, I could still hear my mom’s shrill voice as she screamed at my dad. He laughed at her dramatics but obeyed her all the same. He plopped an old helmet on my head and tightened the strap under my chin. When he grinned at me, I knew I was in for something life-changing.
“Hang on tight,” he said.
My tiny, seven-year-old arms wound their way around his waist and gripped as tightly as I could. Dad cranked the engine and then flew out of the driveway.
Looking back, I’m sure he didn’t drive that fast, but at the time, I would have sworn we were flying down the road at two hundred miles per hour. My dad’s laughter was the only thing louder than the wind in my ears.
That first ride was on Dad’s Harley. It was the first motorcycle I ever rode and the first engine I ever worked on. It started my obsession and bonded me permanently to my father.
As I rode down my street and away from town, I let the fresh air wash away all my worries. I stopped thinking about the shop and its impending doom. I let Gamble Realty fade away into nothing. Even Declan and his daughter Mila drifted to the back of my mind.
Bright sunshine beat down on my skin as I flew down road after road. I didn’t know where I was going until I arrived. I rounded a corner and found myself face-to-face with the sparkling blue sea. I drove further down the street, glancing at the sandy beaches as I moved. For the first time in weeks, I felt a genuine smile spread across my face. It had been ages since I’d ridden down here, since I’d let myself simply enjoy a beautiful day.
I drove for a while before I found a parking spot. The beach was too inviting. I couldn’t resist the urge to take off my shoes and feel the sand beneath my feet. I felt like a little kid as I ran toward the water, kicking at the surf and turning my face toward the sun.
Everything about the day felt perfect. I hadn’t felt so connected to my dad since he died. Being there, on the beach after a long ride on the Harley, it was like he was standing right beside me. And when I turned to see The Diner still standing just down the beach, I knew it was a sign from him.
I laughed to myself and hurried forward. The Diner had been around since before I was born. It was a run-down shack right on the beach. It was literally built on top of the sand, which meant it had undergone about a thousand renovations just to keep it standing. Every time I came to this part of the beach, I always expected it to be gone, either torn down or carried away by the weather, but that never happened. It was always right there. Waiting for me.
I never knew how The Diner got its name. It was always just “The Diner.” When I was a kid, I asked my dad why they didn’t think of something more creative. His response was the kind of response you never forget.
“Sometimes, things don’t need to be flashy or unique to be special,” he told me. “Simplicity is a lost art form. If you can learn to master it, you’ll be happier than most anyone else.”
I was too young to understand back then, and even now, I had a hard time buying into his little life lesson. That day on the beach, though, I knew exactly what he meant. There was something so beautiful about a simple day. A ride on my favorite motorcycle. A walk on the beach. A splash in the sea. And lunch at an old, run-down diner.
“Welcome!” A familiar voice chimed when I stepped through the front door.
“Hey, lady,” I said with a grin.
Diana turned around with wide eyes. When she saw me, she let out a raspy laugh and hurried around the counter to wrap her arms around me.
“Little girl!” she squealed. “Where the hell have you been?”
“I’ve been around.”
We hugged and then she pulled back to hold me at arm’s length. She looked me over with a maternal twinkle in her eye.
“I haven’t seen you in months,” she said. “Come on in. Sit. Sit.”
Diana ushered me to my usual booth right at the front of the dining area. It was the same booth I’d sat in with my dad a million times before. I could almost sense his ghost sliding in across from me.
Diana sat down with me and sighed. She shook her head slowly, her gray eyes darkening with emotion.
“I’m sorry about your old man,” she said.
I let my eyes fall. It was hard to talk about Dad, even with people like Diana. She’d known both my parents for years. I knew she felt my dad’s absence as strongly as I did.
“How’s
your mom?” Diana asked.
“She’s okay.” I looked up and forced myself to hold her sympathetic gaze. “She misses him. We all do.”
“Of course.” Diana sighed. “It’s a damn shame. Your dad was one of the good ones.”
“Thanks.” I smiled and looked away.
Diana, always the perceptive one, got the hint quickly. She cleared her throat and stood up. She smoothed out her apron and plastered a warm smile on her face.
“The usual?” she asked. “Cherry Coke, cheeseburger with fries stuffed inside, and a slice of apple pie with a scoop of chocolate ice cream on top.”
“I’m flattered you remember that.” I laughed. “God, it’s a really disgusting order, isn’t it?”
“It’s one of my favorites,” Diana said. “You’ve been ordering it since you could walk.”
She touched my shoulder gently and then disappeared into the kitchen. While she was gone, I looked around The Diner. It hadn’t changed much. It never really did. The only difference I could see was that they’d finally printed some new menus. I barely noticed, though. I hadn’t used a menu here in years.
Diana brought my soda and then hurried over to take someone else’s order. I watched her while she bustled around the dining area. She never tired. She had to be at least sixty-five by now, and yet, her energy was that of a twenty-year-old.
I ate my lunch in silent reverie. Every time I looked up, I half-expected to see my dad sitting right there. His bright green eyes that he’d passed on to me would be staring at me. His lips would be coated in grease from his burger. And he’d be smiling. He was always smiling.
“So,” Diana said when she made her way back over to my table. “Tell me what’s new with you? Any men in your life these days?”
“No.” I laughed. “Come on, you know I’ve never had time for that.”
“Alexandria,” she said sternly. “Enough of that cynicism. You’re young. You’re gorgeous. There is no reason at all for you to be single.”
“Except that I want to be,” I said.
“Why?” Diana demanded. “Why do you insist on going through life alone?”