“Okay. I’ll have lunch ready in about fifteen minutes, you should probably wake up your dad here pretty quick,” she said.
“Just let me know when you’re done,” I said. “I’ll wake him up when it’s ready.”
“Okay,” she said as she turned toward the sink.
I walked through the bedroom, past the bathroom, and into the walk-in closet. On one side, my mother’s clothes hung, no differently than they had for years. On the other, my fathers. As I shifted my eyes along her outfits, memories of her wearing the clothes came rushing back, and I grinned at the thought of her.
I dragged my finger along the shoulder of the clothes, watching them wave in my wake, each one bringing a separate memory with it. The dresses she wore to church. The dark suit she wore to my uncle’s funeral. The tomato colored jacket that I detested, and I was certain she wore for no other reason than to irritate me. The bottom of the closet was lined with her shoes, dusty, but still just as they were fifteen years prior.
I glanced at my father’s side of the closet. His clothes weren’t as plentiful as my mother’s, but with them, too, came memories. His Carhartt work jacket that he wore on a daily basis to and from work. His one suit he owned. Several jackets hung side by side, none of which that he wore, all of which were gifts.
I chuckled at the thought of his stubborn nature.
My eyes fell to the floor, and immediately I noticed two boxes at the back of the closet, somewhat hidden underneath his clothes. I knelt down and gazed at the ends of them. One clearly marked good stuff and the other marked shit, my curiosity soon got the best of me.
I slid the box marked shit from underneath the clothes, glanced over my shoulder, and removed the top.
A quick check of the documents inside produced receipts, tax forms from what appeared to be his lifetime, and a handful of letters regarding overdue medical bills from years gone past. I grinned at his labeling of the box, placed the lid on top and carefully slid the box back into place.
I shifted my hands to the other box, slid it in front of me, and removed the top.
A folded newspaper sat atop the large assortment of documents. The headline immediately caught my attention, and as I reached for it, I was quickly overcome by emotion. I swallowed heavily, carefully removed it, and peered down at the page.
Local Marine, 23, A True Hero
Although difficult at times, I read through the entire article. Reading about myself wasn’t easy, and along with the resurrected memories came a tremendous amount of emotion. The article was about the Second Battle of Fallujah, and when I had hidden behind the truck to kill the three snipers.
I lowered the article to my lap, wiped the memories from my cheeks, and peered into the box with swollen eyes and a dry throat.
Local Marine, 21, Awarded Second Purple Heart
I stared down at the newspaper and tried to remember when I was 21 years old. As I read the article, the spotter who was shot and killed on the rooftop seemed as if he was with me. I could smell the cordite from the sniper rifle, the coppery stench of the dried blood, and the smell of our sweat.
I wiped my runny nose, brushed the back of my hand against my eyes, and placed the article beside the other.
One by one, I removed the newspapers and placed them on the floor beside each other.
Local Marine Single-Handedly Saves Army Special Forces Platoon in Afghanistan
Local Marine in Military Spotlight
Wichita Marine Awarded Bronze Star
End of the War is Near, Says President
Local Marine, 19, Awarded Purple Heart
Hijacked Airliners Destroy Twin Towers and Hit Pentagon in Day of Terror
I stared down at the articles and swallowed heavily. As difficult as it was to read about my actions in combat for the first time, it was rewarding in many ways. In my father’s eyes, I was the man depicted in the articles. A boy who quickly became a man, did what he had to do at a time of war, and emerged – by the grace of God – as a hero.
In my eyes I was nothing more than my father’s son.
I gathered up the articles and neatly placed them in order. As I began to lower them into the box, I noticed a small box of photographs, something my mother had always truly loved, and my father refused to stop taking.
My father never accepted digital photography, and for as long as I could remember, used a 33mm camera to take his photographs. As stubborn as he was, the majority of them were developed at home, in the basement. I gazed down at the photos, the majority of which were black and white, and stared.
On the top, a picture of Derek I didn’t recognize. I picked up the photo, studied it, and realized it must have been taken on his birthday when I was deployed. I picked up another. And another. And another. All of Derek. Eventually, I got to photos of my sister and me, my mother, and some relatives.
Several of the photos of Derek were with my father, obviously taken by my sister. I spread the photos on the floor and stared at them, trying my best to etch the memory of my nephew into my mind as indelibly as my memories of the war. As my mind began to drift to memories of his first birthday, I realized that soon it would be Casey’s first birthday.
The sound of Katie’s voice startled me.
“Alec, lunch is ready,” she said.
“Be right there,” I said as I began to pick up the photographs.
One by one, I carefully placed the items back into the box. As I slid the box into its place in the closet, my mouth curled into a smile.
There was no doubt my father loved me.
And it was time for me to love him in return.
Chapter Two Hundred Eighty-Five
Present Day, Wichita, Kansas, USA
Two months had passed since our arrival in Wichita, and my relationship with my father was surprisingly better than I could ever remember it being in the past. I desperately missed Casey – and my other Texas brothers as well – but Ripp and Shane had both ridden and driven to Wichita to visit on more than one occasion. Each time Shane drove he brought Kace, and with them, Casey.
My father seemed to enjoy having Casey around, but I wondered just how much his visits reminded him of his only true grandson. For me to consider Casey to be my nephew was easy. I thought for my father to consider him as a grandson would be a stretch, but the excitement on his face and the smile in his eyes was impossible to hide.
Katie’s parents had yet to drive to Kansas, which didn’t surprise me. It was my guess getting her father to ever leave the state of Texas would require nothing less than our refusal to return. She had, on two occasions, driven down and seen them, but I stayed in Wichita with my father.
I realized the day would come when he was able to be alone, but further realized the day hadn’t arrived. For the time being, I was enjoying my time with my father, and viewed it as making up for lost time.
I truly missed Katie’s Sunday dinners, the family in general, the feeling of participating, and training at the gym, but it was her father I seemed to miss the most.
“Too damned bad about the club,” Jackson said.
“Bound to happen,” I said as I tightened the exhaust bolts. “With me gone and that state as fucked up as it is with clubs? It was just a matter of time.”
Our MC in Texas dissolved for a few reasons. One was my absence. But the primary reason was the string of recent problems in Texas with 1% clubs, violence, and the categorization by police of all MCs as being outlaw regardless of their intentions. Harassment and incarceration of men in cuts was becoming common, and it seemed a reason wasn’t always behind the incarceration. Out of respect for Shane and Ripp as parents and as good citizens, I decided to dissolve the club.
“Well, the Sinners don’t accept applications, but we do invite men to prospect as long as they’re vouched in by a fully patched member. And, if a man has already paid his dues, so to speak, he may be vouched in without prospecting on a 100% vote. I know you can go back to your old club, but we discussed it in our last meeting…
”
He paused as I stood up and tossed the wrench to the side.
“I feel like I owe you. For what you did for me,” he said.
“Don’t owe me shit,” I said flatly.
“I don’t mean owe you like that. Owe you respect,” he said.
“Give it, get it,” I said.
“Show respect,” he said. “Get respect.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Same difference.”
I was anxious to hear what else he had to say about the club’s meeting. As we were eventually going to go back to Texas there was no real way I could be a member, but the thought of riding with a 1% club in Kansas appealed to me. I stood out with Bones, Doc, and Crash’s club as being a little too much of an outlaw, and maybe an outlaw club was where I truly belonged. The thought, at least, was appealing.
“So, you were saying. You guys talked about it,” I said as I flipped the ignition switch on.
I pressed the start button as he began to speak.
“Club would love to have ya,” he said over the sound of the exhaust.
I revved the engine a few times and listened for exhaust leaks. The dull drone from the new pipes sounded great, and there seemed to be no leaks. Only an open road test of hard accelerating and rapid decelerating would tell me for sure, but for now, I was convinced.
I flipped the ignition switch to off.
“No prospecting bullshit?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Not one single day of it.”
“Fully patched the day I show up?” I asked.
“Fully patched,” he said.
I was flattered. As much as the thought of such a close-knit bunch of bikers appealed to me, and as much as I knew the brotherhood would help me feel at home, there was no way I could disrespect the club by being a member for six weeks, two months. Or whatever length of time it would be before we left.
“I’m honored, but we’re leaving some day, just don’t know when. Can’t disrespect you guys like that,” I said.
He grinned and nodded his head. “Club’s already discussed it. There’s an Austin chapter of the Sinners. If you go back, you’ll just transfer to that chapter.”
“Hell, I knew there was an Austin chapter, but I had no idea…”
“Toad’s our Sergeant-At-Arms, and he’s not only my fucking brother-in-law, he’s one of the best motherfuckers in the MC. He’s solid as a rock. Hell, we’ve talked about it, Axton, Biscuit, Otis and me. Only thing we can come up with that makes him different is that he isn’t afraid of anything on earth, and he always thinks before he acts. It’s a result of his training. He was a Marine. You were a Marine. Hell, you were his fucking Platoon Sergeant.”
He slapped his hand against my shoulder and shrugged his shoulders. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but you’re his fucking hero. He spent a lifetime thinking you were dead, and now that he knows you’re alive, he can’t stop talking about you.”
My knee-jerk reaction was to say no, but for some reason I couldn’t seem to bring myself to it.
“Let me think about it,” I said.
“Sounds good.” He responded.
The side door of the house creaked as Katie opened the door. “Lunch is ready.”
She had proven to be one of the most caring, kind, and compassionate women to ever exist. She stayed up at night playing Scrabble with my father – an old tradition of him and my mother’s – and listened to every bullshit story he tried to tell her. She spent her days doing laundry, cooking, and folding clothes, and as much as I believed tasks like those should always be shared, she refused, and insisted I let her do what she described as her work.
Having her as my wife would truly make me the happiest man on earth.
I turned toward the doorway and pressed my hands against my hips. “What would you think about me becoming a Sinner?”
She lifted her head slightly. “Hi, Jackson.”
As her eyes fell to meet mine, she responded. “Becoming a sinner? You’re the devil himself, Alec.”
“Katie,” Jackson said with a nod.
“A Selected Sinner,” I said.
“Sounds good to me,” she said. “You staying for lunch, Jackson?”
“I am now,” he said.
As we walked toward the house I thought of what it would be like to be reunited with my old squad leader, Toad. Riding with him, doing my best to protect him, all the while knowing he had my back…
“So no prospecting?” I asked as I stepped through the door.
“Not a bit,” he responded.
“Tight knit bunch of fuckers, aren’t ya?” I asked.
“Devil looks after his own,” he said.
“That the club’s motto?” I asked.
“Sure is,” he said.
Sounds like a place I could call home.
Chapter Two Hundred Eighty-Six
Present Day, Austin, Texas
My chest heavy with medals, ribbons, badges, and commendations, I stood erect in my Marine dress blues with my Squad Leader at my side. I glanced over my right shoulder. Dressed in his dress blues, the left side of his uniform covered in medals and his right with various ribbons, he stood arrow straight and stared directly in front of him.
As the music began to play, I turned slightly to my left. Redefining beauty, she walked down the aisle, her dress flowing six feet behind her footsteps. In the front row, her mother, brother and sister were seated on one side, and my father, sister, Shane, and Kace were seated on the other.
“Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”
They were words I had longed to hear.
“Her mother and I.”
“Sir, Ma’am, will you bless me with your approval to move forward with this ceremony of marriage?”
“I will.”
“I will.”
“We have come together at the invitation of Alec and Katie to celebrate the uniting in Christian love, their hearts and lives. This is possible because of the love God has created in them, through Jesus Christ,” he said.
“Katie and Alec, no other human ties are more tender, no other vows are more sacred than these you are about to assume. You are entering into that holy estate which is the deepest mystery of experience, and which is the very sacrament of divine love.”
“Alec, will you have Katie to be your wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony; will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only for her so long as you both shall live?”
I lowered my head slightly. “I will.”
“Katie, will you have Alec to be your wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony; will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only for him so long as you both shall live?”
“I will.,” she responded.
“Alec, repeat after me. I, Alec, take you, Katie, to be my lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part.”
I recited from memory. “I, Alec, take you, Katie, to be my lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part.”
He turned to Katie. “Katie, repeat after me. I, Katie, take you, Alec, to be my lawful wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part.”
She recited the vows without flaw.
“Will rings be exchanged?” he asked.
“They will,” I responded.
“The rings?’
I glanced over my shoulder.
“Come on, Little Man,” I said as I curled my arm toward Katie.
Casey stumbled up the aisle, spent a few minutes climbing the steps, and held the pillow as high as he was able.
&nbs
p; I pulled the rings from the strings they were fastened with and handed them to the pastor.
Casey stood between Katie and me and hugged my left leg.
“Please remember, a ring is more than a symbol of your marriage. It is a seal of the vow you have made to one another. The circle of the ring is, as far as human eye can see, a perfect circle – with no beginning or end – so God too, has perfect love for you and wants you to love one another in His grace--never, never ending. This ring is made of precious metal. You also are precious in God's sight and now in the life of Alec. When you are absent one from another, the presence of the ring reminds you to be faithful and to fulfill your vows to Alec. Rings have historically been the sign of authority, used to seal documents and proclamations, you now accept this authority in your life.”
“Alec, you may now place your ring on Katie’s finger.”
I slid the ring onto her finger.
“Katie, what symbol do you bring as a pledge of that sincerity of your vows?”
“A ring,” she said.
“Alec, this ring is a seal of Katie’s vow to you. She presents this to you as a token of her submission to you in Jesus Christ. This is a symbol of leadership and privilege. God has placed you as head of the family. You must lead in worship, works and fellowship. As the weaker vessel she depends upon you for strength.”
“Katie, you may place the ring on Alec’s finger.”
“For as much as Alec and Katie have consented in holy wedlock, and have thereto confirmed the same by giving and receiving each one a ring; by the authority committed unto me as a minister of the Church of Jesus Christ, I now declare you husband and wife, according to the ordinance of God, and the laws of the state of Texas, in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.”
“You may kiss the bride,” he said.
I tilted my head to the side and kissed Katie for the first time as my wife.
We turned to face the crowd. Five Marines lined each side of the aisle, and as we stepped down the steps, they drew their swords. Under their raised swords we walked, and took the traditional kiss. I turned from the kiss and faced the rear of the church.
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