by Voss, Deja
I silence it, trying not to disturb her. It’s Red, and although I could probably just ignore him until later, we have all been anxiously awaiting news about Vegas and what it could mean for his career. I want to be here for him to celebrate.
I cover her with a blanket and go into the living room to answer the call.
“Hey, how’d it go?” I ask in a half whisper.
“Are you fucking stupid?” he shouts into the phone.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“You gotta be kidding me with the bike lessons. You’re out of your damn mind. You know that’s not safe.”
“She’s not an idiot, Red. She’s fully capable.”
“It’s dangerous. It’s just dumb. She has no reason to be riding.”
“How do you even know she was riding?”
“I saw the pictures she put online. Super smooth move, dick. I see what you’re trying to do here.”
“I’m not trying to do anything. She said she was interested in learning so I started to teach her. We didn’t even leave the road. Don’t get all weird about it.”
“You’re supposed to keep her safe. You’re supposed to protect her.”
“I’m supposed to be the wet blanket and you swoop in and be the fun boyfriend? That’s fucked up. Get over it, Red. She’s fine.”
We aren’t supposed to fight over her. It’s not part of the deal, but right now I realize exactly what he’s been trying to do all along. He’s been trying to stack the odds in his favor. He gets to have all the fun, and I’m just here to clean up the messes.
That’s not how it’s going to be anymore, though.
“Who are you yelling at?” she asks sleepily from the bedroom door.
“I gotta go,” I say.
“Put her on the phone,” he growls. “Right now.”
“You call me back when you get your shit squared away. Unless it’s about your deal, I don’t want to hear from you.” I hang up the phone, and I can tell by the way she’s staring me down, she knows something is up.
“What did he want?” she asks.
“Don’t worry about it, Ollie. It’s not your concern.” As much as I want to tell her what a jerk he’s being, I’m not going to do that. I’m a better man, I’m an adult, and I’m not trying to fight with my best friend from across the country. I hear her phone ringing from the countertop, and realize that he, however, is.
“Should I answer it?” she asks, knowing exactly who it is.
I shrug. “Go ahead.”
“You guys are fighting,” she says, looking up at me with sadness in her eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Never,” I promise her. “There’s nothing you can do to make us fight.”
“Should I answer it?”
“You probably should.” I figure maybe he’ll just out himself as an asshole and I won’t have to say a word.
“Hey,” she says into the phone cautiously. “Oh my God, that’s great, Red. I’m so proud of you!”
They talk for a little bit and it doesn’t sound like anything out of the ordinary. When she brings up the topic of her bike experience, I see her face go from gorgeous to furious in the matter of a second.
“I don’t need you to tell me what I can and can’t do, Red!” she yells. “I’ve been living my life just fine on my own.” There’s some more yelling, a lot of swearing, and by the time she hangs up, she’s pacing around the living room in circles, her hands shaking and her face bright red. She throws her phone on the ground and groans.
“He’s nuts!” she shouts. “Absolutely out of his damn mind.”
I could’ve told her that a long time ago. Sure, he’s my best friend, and most of the time his goofiness is charming, but when it involves him not getting his own way, he makes it his personal mission to make everyone around him as miserable as he is. True colors and all that shit.
“I’m sorry,” she says, cupping her head in her hands. “I know that’s your friend. I shouldn’t be doing this in front of you.”
I follow her back into the bedroom and watch her as she gets dressed.
“What are you doing?” I ask. She grabs her purse from the hook on the wall and slips on a pair of flip-flops.
“I’m going to Esther’s.”
“Just like that? You don’t have to go. You can stay here. You can talk to me, it’s ok, Ollie. I get it. I know how he can be.”
The flash of anger in her eye shows me this is not going in my favor whatsoever.
“We’re not playing that game, Tank. I’m not getting in between you two, and I’m not ganging up on him with you. I just need to go talk to my girlfriend and blow off some steam.”
She pecks me on the lips and I don’t know what else to do but roll my eyes.
“You just expect me to wait around here until you feel like coming back?”
“No,” she says, slipping out the front door and shutting it behind her.
That didn’t go at all how I expected it to, or how I wanted it to. What started out as one of the best days is now just one of those irritating ones. The door swings back open and she looks at me and smiles.
“Hey, I love you,” she says, before slamming the door again.
I guess I got that going for me. I guess it’s not even about me, even though I’m the one getting punished for this dumbass doing dumbass things.
I grab my jacket and head for the garage. I might as well go see what the guys are up to while she cools down. I get on my bike and head down the road to the clubhouse.
24
Olive:
I pull into Esther’s driveway, gripping the steering wheel so hard that I’m digging my nails into skin to the point that it hurts. That fucking asshole. Today was such a good day, and now I just want to punch holes in the walls.
I can’t believe I’m letting Red get me so worked up. It’s not fair to the other man who is being nothing but good to me. I want nothing more than to run into Tank’s arms and tell him all my problems, tell him what a jerk Red is and how much I hate him right now, but that wouldn’t be right.
That would make me a terrible person. Picking whichever guy made me happier at any given moment. That’s not fair to either one of them. I don’t think it’s fair to make one suffer because the other one is being a jerk, either, though. I’m angry, I’m sad, and I’m stressed to the max. I can only hope Esther can point me in the right direction.
“Hey, Ollie,” Brooks says as I slam the door of my Jeep. “Where’s your harem?”
I flip him the bird without thinking.
“Oh my God, Brooks,” I say, laughing nervously. “I don’t know why I did that. I’m in a mood. Is Esther around?”
President of the Mountain Misfits, Brooks is a mountain of a man: quiet, thoughtful, and slow to anger. Still, there’s no sense in poking the bear, because I’ve seen what happens when you poke him in just the right way.
“Must be something in the air. I think she’s out back burning our wedding photos.” He shakes his head and laughs and goes right back to tinkering on the engine he has in front of him.
I walk around the house to their backyard, and she’s sitting on the deck, smoking a cigarette, a bottle of bourbon resting between her knees.
“Jeez, girl, you know how to party,” I say when I spot her. “Give me one of those.”
Esther only smokes when she’s really angry. I only smoke when Esther has cigarettes. I light it up, coughing as I inhale the tobacco into my lungs.
“What’s got you all twisted?” I ask. I don’t know why seeing her mad makes me feel better. I guess having someone to commiserate with is better than being angry alone.
“Nothing out of the ordinary.” She shrugs and takes a long draw from the bottle of bourbon. “Just some club stuff that I probably shouldn’t even know about. It doesn’t pay to play super secret detective with these guys. I just worry.”
As wife of the president and sister of the vice president, I am sure she knows things that I don’t even wan
t to get involved in on any level. I try not to think about that side of the club. I know all these men are good at heart, but what they do to keep the patch alive is something I just try to keep a blind eye on.
“There might be a mole,” she says. “I told Brooks he needs to line everyone up and get out the crowbar, but he just wants to ride it out.” I often forget how twisted this girl is. I think we all sleep a little better at night knowing she has Brooks to even her temper out.
“It’s going to be ok,” I assure her, although I honestly have no clue.
“It’s not,” she sighs. “What do I owe the pleasure of your presence with?”
I realize, in the grand scheme of things, that my problems are probably really insignificant. I’m fighting with one of my boyfriends. Big deal.
“I was just bored and making the rounds,” I say. “I’ll let you back to whatever you’re doing here.”
“No,” she says. “I’m glad you’re here. You always put me in a better mood, Ollie. Tell me something fun.”
“Well… Tank is teaching me how to ride a motorcycle!” I say, pulling out my phone.
“Is that like a euphemism for something sexual? I’m picturing you in nothing but a helmet and it’s kind of hilarious.”
“No, you jerk. Look.” I show her the pictures I snapped earlier today. The ones that I put on social media. The ones that irritated Red so much.
“Holy shit, Olive. That’s awesome. It’s going to be amazing having another girl to ride with. He must really like you.”
I don’t know why, but it makes me blush hearing it. I know he really likes me. Everything he says to me, the way he touches me, the way he looks at me, every time I’m near him, I feel nothing but this love for me. I shouldn’t be here right now. I should be at home with him, enjoying our time together. It’s not his fault Red is being ridiculous, and Esther has enough on her plate right now.
“I’m going to go,” I say. “Hope your night gets better. I love you, E.” I hug her and slink back out to the driveway.
“You locked up the weapons, didn’t you?” I ask Brooks.
“I even swapped out the silverware for plastic,” he laughs. “I don’t want to know what that girl could do with a metal spoon, and I’m not trying to find out.”
“Well good luck,” I say, before hopping into my Jeep.
“Hey!” he shouts. “Any word about Red’s trip to Vegas?”
“Not really. Some agents watched him work out today, though,” I say through the rolled down window. “I’ll make sure I let you know if I hear anything.”
“Maybe when he gets back he can get Esther into his gym. She’d probably benefit from some bare-handed boxing.” I laugh as I pull out of the driveway. Brooks knew exactly what he was getting into with that one. I love Esther to death, but she had a past that makes mine look like rainbows and sunshine.
When I get back to the house, Tank is gone, and I don’t blame him. He has every right to go do whatever he feels like doing. I did bail on him after all. I search through the freezer for something to make for dinner. I sort his laundry and start a load. I know he doesn’t expect this stuff, but he does so many kind things for me, it’s the least I can do.
Just as I’m about to start the vacuum up, there’s a knock at the door. I try to discreetly peek out the curtains in the living room, staring at the woman standing there. I can’t believe my eyes. She’s exactly how I pictured her. She’s got a quilted tote bag over her arm and she smooths her skirt as she stands there waiting.
I think I’m about to meet Tank’s mom, and I have no idea what I’m going to say.
***
She looks so much like him, it’s almost frightening. Obviously in a pretty and feminine way, but her hair is dark, albeit streaked with gray, and her eyes are that deep chocolate brown. Her smile is gentle, and her voice is soft.
“Hello,” she says when I open the door. “Is Thurston home?”
I’m confused for a second, not putting two and two together.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I guess you kids call him Tank. You must be Red’s girlfriend. My son said you’ve been spending a lot of time at the house lately.”
“You must be Mrs. Ellis,” I say. I don’t want to be blatantly rude to this lady, even though I’m pretty disappointed in “Thurston” right now. “He’s not here right now. Do you want to come inside and wait for him?”
“Oh, it’s alright,” she says. “He wasn’t answering his phone so I figured I’d just drop by. I’m kind of a crazy mom like that.”
I pick up his phone off the coffee table and hold it up. “He must have forgot it.”
I was really hoping the first time I met Tank’s mom it would be the two of us hitting it off, becoming friends. I want her to love me. I want her to see me as another daughter. Instead, I’m just his friend’s girlfriend in her eyes. She pulls plastic containers out of her bag and holds them out to me.
“There’s some cookies in here and a meatloaf and carrots. There’s plenty here for the three of you. You look like a nice girl. Make sure my son shares.” I don’t know if I want to hug her or roll my eyes at her. She definitely lives in a different world than we do. I know she’s being kind, but I kind of just want to grab her and shake her.
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Ellis,” I say. “You sure you don’t want to come inside?”
“It’s alright,” she assures me. “It was nice meeting you. Olivia, right?”
“Sure,” I mutter. I’m trying so hard, I really am, but I have no idea what this woman knows about me. He can’t say he hasn’t told her anything for lack of seeing her, being as she’s willing to drive at least half an hour just to drop by and give him meatloaf. “It was nice meeting you, too.”
I watch her walk down the steps and back to her car, so innocent. So naive. Part of me wants to just take all of this stuff and throw it in the trash.
The other part of me really wants some meatloaf. It’s not her fault. I’m not going to take out my anger on her home cooking.
I close the door behind her and sit down at the kitchen island with a fork, popping open the top of the container. First, I’m going to eat all this food. Then I’m going to figure out what I’m going to do about Thurston.
Before I know it, it’s getting dark and I’m in a food coma. I really should go back to my place after the day I’ve had with these two, but I drag myself to the couch, throwing a blanket over my body. I’ll be the bigger person and talk to him about it, that is, if I don’t explode all over the living room. I lay there, groaning, until I pass out.
25
Tank:
I didn’t expect to see her Jeep in the driveway when I got home.
Seeing her passed out there on the couch makes me smile.
The sight of my mother’s Tupperware all over the kitchen countertop, however, makes me nervous as hell. It’s not that I don’t want to tell my parents about Olive. Every day I want to tell them more and more; I just don’t know if they’ll be understanding of a nonconventional relationship, and I don’t want to cross that bridge unless I absolutely have to.
She might have crossed it for me, though.
I hear her gasp on the couch and shuffle around a little bit.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I met your mother,” she says, her voice deep and husky. I can tell she’s still half asleep. I see the end table light flick on, and her squinted eyes look like they’re trying to shoot laser beams of death at me. “Nice lady. Good cook. I’m not really into carrots, but who am I to be picky? I’m just the roommate’s girlfriend, after all.”
“Well that’s not a complete lie, Olive.” I shrug. “And it’s not like you’re in any mad hurry to introduce me to your mother.”
“Put your shoes on,” she says. “You know where we can find any meth?”
“What?” I stammer.
“How much cash you got on you? That’ll probably do.”
“I get it. Your
mom is a loser. My mom, however, runs a day care center in her home. She’s in charge of Bible study at the local church. She’s running for the school board this year. Can you see why maybe trying to have an open three-way relationship isn’t in the best interest of my family?”
“Why didn’t you just tell her I was your girlfriend? Why did you have to tell her I was dating Red?”
“Ollie, the pictures after the fight were all over the internet. My mom loves him as much as we do, maybe more. She was going on and on about how pretty you are and when am I going to find myself a nice girl like that. Do you know how hard it was for me to keep my mouth shut?”
“It must be hard being you, Thurston,” she says with extra emphasis. “Living a double life. Mommy’s perfect son by day and big badass biker by night. What are you even doing here? We might be a bunch of scumbags, but at least we wear it on our sleeves.”
“You mean yourself and Red by we, right? The man who had you spitting nails a few hours ago?”
“I’m allowed to be mad at both of you if you’re both being assholes,” she says matter-of-factly.
“You sure are,” I say, feeling my anger intensify. I didn’t think I could be mad at this girl, but she just pushed the wrongest of wrong button. “Don’t you question my place in this club, ever. Don’t you question my loyalty. You don’t know the things I do for the patch. You only see the tip of the iceberg because, in the scheme of the club, you are a bartender at a place we hang out at and an old lady.”
The second those words come out of my mouth, I’m instantly filled with regret. That came out wronger than wrong. I watch as her eyes fill with tears and I don’t even know what to say to make it better.
“Olive,” I say, as she covers her face with her hands and begins to cry. “I didn’t mean it that way. I swear.”
“I don’t care what way you meant it, Tank. You still said it. And it’s still true.”