Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

The music in his earbuds didn’t cover the sounds coming from the bathroom. Weatherman dressed for work and gritted his teeth as his mom was violently sick. She vomited from anything she tried to put in her stomach. Even drinking a glass of water brought it on.

Every.

Fucking.

Treatment.

He hated it. Hated that he could do nothing about it but listen to his mother deal with this painful routine. Her reactions were so bad, the doctors gave her extended breaks between infusions, but that only seemed to increase the suffering.

“Mom, you need me?” he called out as he lifted the pot from the stove and poured the heated water into a glass pitcher filled with ginger tea bags.

“I’ll be fine in a minute.”

A moment later, Natalie appeared in her zipped-up robe and slippers. Her hair was gone now, and she wore a scarf wrapped around her head. Weatherman pressed his lips together, knowing this bothered his mom a lot, but again, there was nothing he could do about it. This feeling of helplessness bugged the shit out of him and made this whole situation worse.

She slowly made her way into the living room and sat in her big recliner. “I hate this crap.”

Weatherman agreed. “I’m sorry you have to go through it, Mom.” He poured some tea into a glass filled with ice. “I hope this will help settle your stomach.”

“Doctor told me to keep my fluids up no matter what or else I gotta get an IV,” she groused. “I don’t want any more needles to deal with than I have to. Bad enough with this damn portacath in my neck.” She took a cautious sip of the brew. “Yeah, that’s good. Thank you, dear.”

“No problem.”

She contemplated the glass in her hand. Mickey Mouse danced under the hundredth-anniversary logo. “You remember when we went there, when you were around six or seven.”

Weatherman smiled. “Yes, I do. We walked right into the Main Street Parade as soon as we got there. I was fascinated and a little scared. First time I’d ever been on a plane.”

“I wasn’t exactly a world traveler either. I figured driving would take too long outta our vacation time, so flying was a better way. I let Disney Travel make all the arrangements. Kinda nice just to pay one price and let someone else take care of it.”

Weatherman sat on the sofa next to the chair. His mother continued to sip at the tea, which she seemed to be keeping down so far. “I remember the rides, the shows, the food. Space Mountain was my favorite, I think, but then we went to Animal Kingdom the next day.” He smiled at the memory. “That was a great time.”

“We had some good ones, didn’t we? How ’bout the camping trip in Chattanooga?”

Weatherman laughed. “Oh shit, yes. We got the tent set up, and it rained like hell for three days. Flooded the whole damn campground. We still did the caverns and the aquarium but slept in the car. I still remember it was a fun trip.”

“Sometimes you have to adapt.”

Weatherman’s chuckles continued as he picked up his own glass of tea. He remembered how that phrase came from his mother’s mouth many times during his childhood. When she had to figure out a janky DIY repair at their apartment because the landlord couldn’t be bothered. When she had to leave work and take him to the emergency room because he’d fallen off his skateboard and broken his arm. When she got laid off from the bank and needed to come up with another income source for several months.

Sometimes you have to adapt.

Weatherman regarded the glass in his hand. This one had Dixie Stampede printed on it. “We did so many camping trips all over the place. Georgia, West Virginia, Ohio, Kentucky—some really cool places. If you had a trip you could go on right now, what would you choose to do? Camping again or something nicer?”

“I liked the camping thing, but if I had the strength and the time, I’d go on one of them big tropical cruises. One that has the little paper umbrellas in the drinks. Never had one like that.” She paused. “I always thought I’d do that someday, but I’m not so sure I’ll get that chance now.”

Pain cut into Weatherman’s heart, clean and sharp. No, he wouldn’t acknowledge that thought by saying it aloud. Uttering those words would put some weight behind that possibility, and he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. Not when there was any ray of hope.

His mom had been a powerhouse of a woman his entire life. The person to give him roots so he could grow wings. He would forever be grateful for all the sacrifices she made to give him the best life she could. And now, when faced with the ultimate challenge, he wanted to give back all he was able. “I’ll make sure you get your cruise, Mom. You just gotta work a little harder to beat this thing.”

Her laugh was loud and weak at the same time. “I’ll do my best, dear, but it’s not up to me. Emma should be here soon. Why don’t you go get your ass outta here before you’re late? You want to give me something? Go find me a daughter-in-law who’s gonna take care of you when I’m not around.”

There it was again. “Mom, I wish you wouldn’t say shit like that.”

Natalie sighed. “Sweetheart, if I had the choice, I’d be here forever just to see all the great things I know you’re gonna do. Reality is, I might not. I promised you I’d fight the good fight as long as I could, and we’ll see if that’s enough. Lord knows I’d love to see you with someone special and with kids of your own.”

Weatherman sniffed. “I’m working on it.”

“Hey, y’all,” a voice called out. A minute later, an African American woman in scrubs came in the door carrying a plastic grocery bag of yarn. “Hey, Miz Natalie. I brought some yarn I found on sale over to Walmart. Lord ha’ mercy, them people there is crazy. I saw a woman shoutin’ down one of the clerks over a buy-one-get-one candy bar. She wanted the free one without paying for the first one.” Emma shook her head. “Don’t make a lick a’ sense.”

Natalie laughed. “I’d spend good money for that kind of show.”

Emma did the routine of checking vitals, then asking about symptoms, aftereffects, and general health. Weatherman stood from his spot to allow her to work.

Natalie joked about her sickness. “I always wanted to lose that extra twenty pounds, but I didn’t think it would come off this way.”

He had to laugh to keep from crying.

Emma chuckled. “Now that we got the business end of things done, let’s get down to what’s really important. I hope you’ll put down the cross-stitchin’ and show me how to cable knit today.”

Seconds later, the TV was on some afternoon talk show, and the two women were bent over needles and yarn.

Weatherman watched as Natalie inserted what looked like a big toothpick through the pile in her hand. “I’m gonna go for a ride and head over to the station. I’ll see you later tonight, yeah?”

Natalie didn’t look up as she twisted the multicolored strands around her fingers. “Okay, dearest. Be safe.”

He left the small house and mounted his bike, pointing it in the direction of the highway. In a few minutes, he opened up the throttle and relished the wind against his face shield. Only now could he allow the tears to fall from his eyes.

He cursed long and loud at the unfairness of life. His mom had worked so damn hard for decades and now was battling to keep her life when she should be enjoying retirement. It’s not right, he screamed in his head as he barreled down the road.

He took one curve a little too fast and skidded slightly. He corrected quickly before it became a problem, but he did slow down. The last thing his mom needed was a call that he’d been hospitalized for being a dumbass.

Off in the distance, he spotted a car on the roadside shoulder. The trunk was open, and a woman rummaged in the back. As he passed it, he saw the flat tire. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with people, but a lone woman trying to change a tire on her own prompted him to turn around and go back to help her.

He pulled up behind the car and recognized Opal, the unpleasant woman from the salon who’d cut his hair a while back. Pearl’s mother.

As disagreeable as she’d been, he’d thought she was pretty when he first saw her. Hell, she was what he would call hot, but her standoffish and downright hostile attitude turned him off. Big-time. On the other hand, she was a single mom with all the frustrations that came with the title. Perhaps she’d been having a really bad day when he entered the salon. He was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt but planned on steering clear of her. Even so, as much as he preferred to keep riding, his sense of right wasn’t so skewed as to drive off and leave her there.

She turned, and for a brief moment, he saw a flash of fear in her eyes.

Fear? Of him?

It didn’t last long. Those baby blues shut down in an instant, and she stood straight.

“What do you want?” Her tone was Nordic cold, and Weatherman had the urge to turn around and leave. It pissed him off, and in his present state, he would probably lose his temper at her and say things he would regret later.

“I thought you might need some help. My mistake.”

She huffed a bit but relaxed her face. “Actually, I do. I don’t know how to change a tire, and my cell phone is dead.”

Weatherman let part of his ire go. It wasn’t her fault that life was rough now. He shouldn’t take it out on her. He inhaled through his nose and blew out a calming breath. “I’ll take care of it. Got a jack back there?”

She lifted a tool bag from the spare tire well. “Is this it?”

He stifled a smile. If he laughed at her ignorance, she might throw it at him. “Yeah, it is. Step back, and I’ll get this done.”

“Okay. Hold on a minute.” The bag clinked as she handed it to him and then walked to the back of the car.

Weatherman opened the drawstring and examined the contents. Just as he’d thought. The crappy, flimsy stock tools that came standard with the vehicle. He hoped they would hold up long enough to get the job done.

As he placed the jack under the frame, Opal came back around to the side of the car with something in her arms. Weatherman had to stop and look. Pearl peeked out at him from a pink blanket and grinned her baby teeth at him. Automatically, his eyes darted to Opal’s left hand to confirm the absence of a ring.

She didn’t miss the curious look. “I’m a single mom. Is that a problem?”

Weatherman focused back on his task. “Not at all. I was raised by a single mom, so I know firsthand how tough it can get.”

She bobbled the baby but didn’t say anything. No snappy rejoinder. There was a lot going on behind her eyes. He was somewhat curious but didn’t ask. She might answer, and if she did, then he’d get to know her. If he got to know her, he might develop an interest in her. If he developed an interest in her, that would detract from his obligations to his own mother. Still, he had a soft spot for single moms.

The flipping jack handle on the loose crank wrench slipped like crazy as he lifted the car but miraculously didn’t break. Somehow it held, and he prayed it stayed that way until he got the tire done. He nearly threw his back out forcing off the nuts, but he got them loose after several minutes of yanking and swearing at them with the floppy nut wrench. The spare tire was one of those cheap fifty-fifty styles, but at least it would get her to the garage.

“You should get a T-handle nut wrench. Better torque in case you have to do this by yourself someday.” He put the poor tools back in the bag and pulled the string shut. There weren’t any towels that he could see, so he wiped his hands on his jeans.

“I’ll check into it.” Her tone came out contrite. She took a breath. “I’m sorry for being so mean to you. It’s….” She sighed. “I’m not in a really great place right now, but I’m trying.”

He relaxed his stance and his attitude, as he definitely related to that statement. “I get you. My life isn’t where I want it to be either, but time only has one direction—forward. It will get better.” He closed the trunk and turned to face her. He didn’t know how she would react if she knew he had met her daughter at Table and Lori’s place, and even played peekaboo with her. “What’s your daughter’s name?”

She smiled at the dozing child. “This is my precious Pearl.”

Opal and Pearl. It really is very cute, Weatherman thought as he watched Opal’s face soften. Her clean wavy hair was pulled back from her face in a high ponytail, making her appear more like a teenager than a mother somewhere in her twenties. One fat lock hung over her forehead and framed her thickly lashed eyes.

Beautiful.

Weatherman cleared his thickening throat. “You’re ready to go as far as I can tell. Know where the DRMC garage is located? Drive there and I’ll follow you to make sure you get there without any more problems.”

Her eyes darted to him, and her full mouth thinned as she pressed her lips together. “Thank you, but I can take it from here.”

Weatherman pointed to his cut. “How much do you know about motorcycle clubs?”

He watched her shut down. Physically. Immediately. Completely. The light drained from her eyes, and her body locked tight.

“More than I ever wanted,” she stated, her words devoid of any emotion. “I need to go. Thanks again.” She turned to leave.

“Hold up.” He reached out a hand to touch her shoulder and get her attention. Her reflexes were lightning fast.

“Keep your hands off me!” she hissed and stepped away.

He held both hands up, palms toward her. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, lady. Calm down. I was just going to say the Dragon Runners have a code when it comes to taking care of the women in this town. You see a man wearing this emblem, you can trust that he won’t leave you on the side of the road until you’re safe.”

The baby started fussing, making Opal more upset. Her face screwed up in frustration as she jiggled the toddler. “I don’t need anyone taking care of me. I appreciate your help, but that’s all you’re gonna get from me. Just my thanks.”

What the hell? His tone became acidic. “I didn’t ask you for anything, did I?”

That stopped her. “No,” she begrudgingly admitted. Pearl let out a squall. “Now see what you’ve done?”

Weatherman threw his hands in the air. “I give up. Get yourself to the garage and take care of that tire as soon as possible. I’m outta here.”

He turned to his bike and strapped on his helmet. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her put the baby in the car seat and then get in the driver’s side. The car cranked up, and she drove away without looking back.

“Crazy woman,” Weatherman declared as he revved up his bike. Her defensive reaction to him made him wonder what had happened to her to make her that way, but it wasn’t his problem. “Not my circus, not my monkeys. I got enough on my plate to deal with right now. I don’t need something else to worry about.”

He still followed her until he saw her pull into the garage before breaking away to go to the station.