“Harley, sweetie that disgusted look on my face was because you quickly jumped to the thought that I would disown you, ever. That you thought I would let you leave.” He drew in a deep breath, exhaling, finishing. “We will figure this all out. You’re my daughter, my baby girl. I’ll never turn my back on you. No matter the situation. I’ll always be in your corner.” I cried harder into his chest and squeezed him as if this were a dream. Relieved that my father still wanted me, still loved me, and was still was in my corner.
“Melissa, can you take her to her room? Are you able to stay the night?”
“Yes sir.” Lissa answers fast.
“Okay, she needs us, all of us.” he stares at my mother. I see her smile and nod, no more real than the characters in my favorite books. “Take her to bed, we’ll talk tomorrow.”
Letting my grip loosen on my father, I look up to him with my watery eyes. “I’m so sorry daddy, I know I disappointed you.”
Pulling my chin up gently to look into his eyes, he says. “Baby girl, you will never disappoint me! Never think that, ever! You’re my pride, my reason for breathing! I love you, baby girl. Go with Melissa, get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Yes daddy. I love you too.”
*******************************************
I felt the weight of the world lift off my shoulders. I never knew I could love my father more than I do now. After what I had done, he still loves me and is still in my corner. I felt I could always conquer anything with my father and Lissa at my side. The only two people who matter to me. They are my world. I would do anything for them, give my life for them if I had to. Lissa is still asleep beside me, snoring quietly. I can’t help but smirk at her noises. Yep, that’s my best friend right there. Wouldn’t trade her for the world.
My phone buzzes on my dresser. It’s early. Who could it be?
I grab my phone, first seeing the time. Its seven a.m. I don’t have many friends. In fact, I only have Lissa. That’s all. I look down at the displayed name on my phone. My mouth drops open. With all the stress and anxiety, I completely forgot I needed to talk to Ford. The father of... of my... Baby. My. Baby. I didn’t choke, not even mentally as I cooed over the word in my head. Baby, baby, baby. My baby! My phone buzzed against my hand again, bringing me back to the real world. He wanted to see me.
Ford: I miss you.
Ford: I need to see you.
I go to text back, waiting for my fingers to type something—anything. I can’t think of what to say. All I know is that he has a right to know. Lissa told me, he deserves a chance before I write him out of mine and the baby’s lives forever. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I will tell him today.
We set up to meet at the park that is a few blocks down from my house at nine. I have just enough time to eat breakfast and shower. After my shower, I run down to eat a quick bowl of cereal and slip my sneakers on. Grabbing my keys, I reach for the door knob, when I hear foot steps behind me. I turn to see my mother. She looks like she has been up all night drinking, again.
“Where do you think you’re going, baby mamma?” She slurs.
I don’t want to fight with her, I’ve had enough stress from the past week to last me at least until my thirties. “I’ll be back.”
I turn the door knob and walk out, but before the door shuts, I hear her slur. “Little fucking slut! Should have aborted you when I had the chance. The biggest regret of my life was giving life to you.”
I let the door shut behind me while tears spill from my eyes and streak down my cheeks. That was rough—painful down to my soul. She disrupted my inner peace that I had going on this morning. I’ve always had arguments with my mother, but she never said she didn’t want me or that she regretted me. Ouch! No time to dwell on it. I hardened my heart years ago against my mother’s abuse.
Driving to the park, I wipe my eyes. I’m more scared to tell Ford about the baby than I was with my parents. The feeling isn’t the same though. Not that disappointment would come from him or loss of pride. More like, abandoning me to be a single parent. Telling me he was not the father, but he knew better than that. He was my first. My first everything! I was in love with him. He said he loved me first. I fell hard and fast for my bad boy.
At nineteen years old, he was far from having a respectable nine-to-five. He did work as a mechanic at a motorcycle shop, under the table of course because his record would not allow him to actually be an employee. Good thing his uncle was one of the owners and pulled some strings to help. He hasn’t had the best life, I know that. My life was a carpet ride through the sky with all the possibilities and opportunities at my feet for the taking. He was fighting for his opportunities and possibilities. I can’t help but think of how he would be a great father; even knowing he didn’t have one of his own to go to for guidance or support. All I knew is that he wouldn’t want to be like his father.
Would he?
No!
He has sworn to me that he never wanted to be like his father or his mother. His mother was a crack whore, who sold him for crack when he was nine. It took a few days, but his uncle went looking for him to take him fishing. His uncle had to pay to get him back and has had him ever since. His father, his uncle’s brother, bailed when he was still a baby in his mother’s stomach. She was eight months pregnant when he left them to fend for themselves. His uncle was the closest thing he had to a father. He could go to him for fatherhood advice. Ford would always say it was fate for his life to be this way. He heard stories of how his father would beat on his mother and cheat on her. How his mother would sell his formula she would get from WIC and use the money for drugs. His uncle would have to bring formula over every few days, making sure baby Ford ate. His older sister would try to help, but she was only four at the time. Life was hard for Ford and his sister. He was a closed guy, had an icy heart with a wall around it to make it even harder for anyone to hurt him. Knowing that is how he survived in this world, I never pressured him into sharing things with me or to share his feelings. The way he saw it, he was better off without both of them. “Good ridden.” He would say. I could see in his eyes that he was still that pained child, holding onto the grudge that ate at him daily to get back at his parents for abandoning him as if he was trash and not a second thought in their fucked up heads. I never pressed the issue, I knew when he was ready that he would talk to me. No reason in bringing it up or pressing the topic when it would end in a fight and him shutting me out.
Pulling up to the park, I turn my car off and get out. Scanning the park, I see he’s at our table where we first met. I can feel my heart drop at the scary feeling that he could deny me and my child—our child, his child. I choked back the feeling to run like hell back to my car. My palms are clammy as I nervously approach him, smiling. No matter the situation, he always made my heart skip a beat.
“Hey, baby.”
He pulls me in for a kiss, soft but rough at the same time. I loved when he kissed me with that passionate possessiveness. Kissing him back harder, he runs his fingers through my hair, gripping me tightly, reminding me I was his and he was mine.
Telling him doesn’t seem so bad now.
He growls against my mouth as I try to fight for oxygen, but in a good way. Feeling him breaking the kiss, I take in a deep breath that my lungs longed for. My lips would surely be bruised, I don’t care. I loved it. I loved him!
“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” I say, breathing hard.
He keeps his hold on me, one hand on my hip and the other still in my hair. He pulls me into a hug. Feeling secure and safe in his arms, I’m convinced he’ll be happy about our little bundle on the way.
I feel a sudden turn of fear run through me, running up my spine. What if he doesn’t want this? What if he drops me as fast as he caught me when I fell for him? I can’t even fathom the thought; it sickens me, making me feel empty. I couldn’t bear the thought of life without him. I needed him. Pregnant or not. I craved him!
&nbs
p; He breaks through my racing thoughts. “What’s wrong baby?” He could see it in my eyes. He was always able to read me like the open book I was.
“I have something to tell you.”
“I have news for you too, baby.” He said happily. I wanted his news first, maybe to encourage me to say what I needed to say. Reassuring me that he was there for me, ready to take this leap blindly into the life of parenthood.
“You first, babe.” I told him. Worried his news wasn’t going to counter act my own. I was sure my news was top priority. It covers the news of all news. I didn’t want to ruin the glint in his eyes. Whatever it was he had to say, he was happy to spill it. I wait nervously for his words to come.
“Baby, I’m gonna join The Hell Hound’s MC.”
“W-What?” I answer him, shocked.
I may be a middle-class, suburban girl, but I still knew who they were. They were a gang of mischievous devils that controlled the town I live in. They have been running things for years, for as far back as I can remember. I’ve heard stories of the evil, murderous criminals they were. Once, I heard they killed a baby. No remorse— they ran the family filled car off the road and it ended in blazes and gut wrenching screams as they all burned alive. I heard they have whores in all their houses. All used up. Coked-up. Raped them if they didn’t comply with what a member wanted. They took what they wanted without any concern of who it hurt in the process. What was Ford thinking? Are you kidding me?
Whoa, what the fuck?
That was all I could think. My mind was blank. I couldn’t imagine raising a child with those monsters, and Ford was heading right down that same road. He said he didn’t want to be like his father. Here he was, doing a pretty damn god job at “not being his father”.
There was no way I could let my child be around such dangerous animals.
I took a deep breath and exhale slow, taking in what he said. I remained cool, even though I was boiling inside. How could he do this to our child? Our baby?
Wait!
He doesn’t know yet, I just have to tell him. He’ll change his mind from doing something so reckless. He’ll think of his child. I meet his gaze as he stares, trying to read my mind.
“Okay, I have something to tell you now.”
He watches me, curiosity peaked. He doesn’t take his eyes off of mine. I’m going to lay everything I have on the table. Hand him my heart, hoping he doesn’t hand it back shattered. The thought made me wince.
“Babe, I love you with all my heart, you know that, right?”
He looks confused by my words. “Of course I know, I love you too, but you already know that as well.” He nodded for me to continue, so I do.
“I’m pregnant.”
He stares at me, face expressionless—cold. He looks like he has seen a ghost. What did I just do? Did I just lose the only man that I ever loved on so many levels? My other half. The other part of my soul, without him I am not whole. He blinks in disbelief. He focuses back on me. “You mean, I’m the... I’m going to be a...father?”
“Yes.”
Before I could stop myself, the pleading words leave my mouth without my brain thinking. My brain shut down so my heart took the role of speaking for me.
“Baby, please don’t join this gang, please. OUR child deserves great parents. Both parents. They are a bunch of low-life’s’. Please don’t, God knows what they will have you doing. Turning you into a monster like they are. Baby--”
“Stop! Just... stop talking.” He says. “Give me a minute.”
He gets up from the picnic table, walking around—pacing is more like it. Hand in his hair, he runs the other hand down his face—shocked. I know how he feels. I give the time he asks for.
“One, It’s a Club, NOT A GANG. Two, I’m joining those low-life’s. Period! You calling my uncle a monster? After what he’s done for me? You know, I thought you would be happy—support me. I want you to be beside me. Three, I’m gonna be a father. FUCK. I’m too fucked up to raise a kid.”
He takes a few hard, deep breathes.
“I’m gonna be a goddamn father. A fucking daddy.” He mutters to himself, trying to wrap his head around it. I was already fuming! He was not going to be anywhere near my child being a member of a club. A motorcycle club at that! A very dangerous, one-percenter-club at that.
Outlaws.
No!
I had to protect my baby now, not my heart. It was already crushed as soon as he said “I’m joining those low-life’s. Period.” I didn’t give him time to recuperate. I was angry and hurt. I couldn’t stop the words from my mouth as tears start down my face.
“Do what you want, Ford, and I’ll do what I want. MY baby will know I love him or her! I’ll do anything to protect it from the evil this world offers. I’ll smother them with love and pride. I don’t need your help! Good-bye Ford, and good ridden.”
With those short words, I turn and with my tear-streaked face and walk back to my car.
Chapter Two
Harley
18 years later...
As I drive back to Branchwood, Colorado, I think of how I do not want to be there. I left for a reason and hadn’t been back for the same reason. I managed to block that painful part of my life, out of my memory these past eighteen or so years. As I get closer to my home town, one good thing comes out of it—Lissa. We stayed in contact all these years. Lissa would come and visit me in Washington. I have been a RN for the last thirteen years at the local hospital. I was respected as I climbed my way to be the lead RN in charge of all the newbies. I enjoy my job. I have a passion to help people in need—a nurturing mentality that needed to be filled after what happened all those years ago. My stomach flips and flops as I get closer to my destination that scarred me so badly. I couldn’t bring myself to return. A single tear runs down my face. I wrap my head around the fact that I was actually on my way home, or what used to be my home. Since I live so far away I had to bring my dog, Bronx. A Doberman I got as a puppy four years ago to fill the whole in my heart. I had adopted him as a puppy from the local pound, Second Chances Shelter.
The emptiness I felt coming home to my little one bed, one bath townhouse. It was small, but it suited me well. Bronx helped me get through the toughest nights I used to have all alone. He is my life saver, as I was his.
Getting closer to the town that I grew up in, the realization sickens me to my core. I want to get this done as fast and as painlessly as possible. Daddy had died. Cancer. He fought for nine years, but it took him in the end. I owe it to him to come. I couldn’t bring myself to come any sooner. I have to arrange his funeral and sell the house and contents inside. My mother had died ten years ago, alcohol poisoning. I have to admit, when my father called me with the news late one night, I had half a mind to cuss him out for waking me for a reason as such. I didn’t give my mother a second thought that she was gone. I felt no remorse. She had gotten a lot worse with the abuse before I took off to college. The way I see it, mother brought it on herself. As much as I loved my father, I couldn’t get past the fact at what he had done.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved my father deeply. He was my hero, my rock, before he changed that himself. I lost respect and pride in him that I used to beam with whenever I was near him. Now, I just felt disgust. At least Lissa would help me through this. I miss Lissa terribly. I was hit with a bit of excitement. Anxious to see my friend, it’s been at least two years since I’d seen her. But Lissa knew why I never visited Branchwood. She never pressed me to come back either. Lissa knew better than to open old wounds. Which I was grateful for the unspoken understanding we always seemed to share.
“Branchwood 50 miles”
Reading the sign, my face flushed with emotions that I can’t begin to unravel. Instead, avoiding the emotional pit in my stomach, I turned on the radio, loud. Drown out my own thoughts was the plan. It worked as soon as my favorite song came on.
Cruise by Florida Georgia line.
Bronx sat up from his road nap in the passenger sea
t, looking at me dancing and singing to my favorite jam. Bronx joins in, barking and howling. You would think he had some husky in him. But, he was all Doberman; all one-hundred-twenty-pounds of him—he was large for a Doberman. I love my curvy pooch though.
As we sing our way through eleven songs, I finally see it...
“Welcome to Branchwood, Colorado.”
I sigh. Bronx looks at me, feeling my uneasiness. He always seemed to be in tuned with me. I look over at him. “It’s okay boy.”
Going through town, seems like nothing has really changed. A few new buildings—nothing remotely different. Getting closer to my childhood home that holds so much joy and pain, I drive by the park.
Yeah, that one…
That pit in my stomach seems to turn into a black hole — a pit of nothingness. Empty. I’m flooded with my last time here. Such a distant memory, but I remember it as if it was yesterday. The pain still fresh—true love doesn’t go away with time.
“Time heals all wounds.”
What a crock! The memory made me wince. Driving as fast as I can past this painful part of my past, I make it to my childhood home and stop in front. I sit in my jeep for a long time just staring blankly at the house. Bronx is anxious to get out, jerking me from my memories.
“Alright, boy, let’s go.”
Bronx dashes out. I can’t help but smile at my happy pooch. Running on new ground, he explores widely. I never had to leash him. I had plenty of time on my hands. He knows many commands—especially his favorite. “Popsicle.” He knew what command I wanted him to follow on that word. But no one else did. I made my own words to train him. I smiled to myself, remembering training him. He was such a klutz as a puppy.
Delayed Love Page 2