Chapter 57
*Jake*
Some of my youngest memories of my uncle Luke had been passing him wrenches as he worked on cars. As I got older, he would allow me to help him. When I moved in with him, he encouraged me to spend as much time as I was willing to give working on them. “You have to take that energy and anger out somewhere, better it be on lifting engines and losing nuts than on other people,” he told me once. Which is why I always fall back to doing so whenever I'm stressed. The fact that I had not been to the garage in over a month was not lost on me. Although I had been put in some stressful situations in having Roland somewhat back in my life, having Payton there made it bearable, even enjoyable at times.
I currently have my head under the hood of a Ford Mustang convertible. It is something I bought a while back and had started to fix up. The engine was shot and there was some body and interior damage but with a little bit of TLC, it would snag a lot of money on a resale. Maybe it would make a nice gift to a beautiful young lady with long waving auburn hair? A flash of Payton driving the car, top down, her hair blowing in the wind has my stomach churning. I curse as the wrench I am holding slips off the nut and my knuckles skim across the engine. Fuck! That hurts.
The more I try to loosen the nut, the more frustrated I get. Suddenly I am throwing the wrench across the garage in frustration. I’m known as the level headed one when it comes to the guys who work in the garage, so this uncharacteristic action clearly shows that my frustration has nothing to do with the car I am currently working on. This must be obvious to Ricco as well.
Slowly Ricco rolls out from under the car he has been working on and sits up on his dolly. “I don’t know what is bothering you Jake but this shit stops now. You can cuss and swear all you want in here hell, I don’t care if you punch a hole in the fucking wall but throwing things I will not allow.” He is looking at me intently. “This is my shop and those are my tools. So, until you can show some respect for both, I suggest you leave.” With that, he slides back under the car.
Now, I know most people would find it funny for a six foot, five inch biker to talk so calmly and articulately but most people have never seen Ricco angry. I have, so I know this is the calm before the storm. I do not want this particular storm to be aimed in my direction, so I grab my jacket and head for my bike. Ricco is right, I’m too out of sorts right now to be trying to do something productive. I decided to go for a ride instead.
When I ride, it clears my head. I have to be so focused on the road, each twist and turn, that it is impossible to think of anything else. In fact, I often don’t realize where I am or where I am going until I am actually there. It’s as if being on my bike is some type of autopilot. I guess that is how I end up at the cemetery where my mother is buried. I don’t come here often, it’s too painful. Usually when I do come, it’s when I end up here unconsciously. As if my mother is willing my body to come. I used to find it eerie but now, especially today, it feels comforting.
Before I can give it a second thought, I am sitting on the bench Luke has donated to the cemetery and had strategically placed at the foot of mom’s grave. I know that unlike me, Luke comes here frequently. I begin to tell her all about Payton, leaving out the current situation because as silly as it sounds, I don’t want to worry her. Mom would have loved Payton, it is only sitting here that I think about how much alike they are. Protective of others, reserved and quiet around those they don’t know well but warm and funny around those they do. My mother had such strength to put up with Roland for so long. I often felt guilty because I know she did it for me, hoping that someday Roland would appreciate his son and show him some love. It wasn’t until she died that I realized she probably stayed out of fear as well. What had he threatened her with, if she left? Guess it didn't really matter, she ended up here anyway.
A small goldfinch comes and perches on top of mom’s headstone, looking at me intently. I simply stare back at it and am surprised when it hops down and then flies over to land on the arm of the bench I am sitting on. Still looking at me with its little eyes, it chirps a few times and flies away. Almost like it was trying to tell me something or at least let me know I wasn’t alone. I laugh as I ponder whether or not this tiny bird has some type of message for me, sent by my mother. I shake my head, I wish it were that easy. With a long sigh, I rise, say a goodbye to my mother and leave.
As I am swinging my leg up and over the saddle of my bike, my phone vibrates in my jacket pocket. I pull it out to see Luke’s number on the screen. “Yah,” I say by way of greeting.
“Just heard from Joe,” he says and my heart stops beating. “She is out. She is safe and tucked away where she will be out of danger.”
A sudden wave of ease goes through my body and I sit hard on my bike. Thank fuck. Then I force myself to ask, “Is she okay? He didn’t?” I ask the questions I am not sure I want to know the answers to.
“She’s fine,” Luke assures me. “A little shook up but that is to be expected. I know what you are thinking Jake but no, he didn’t hurt her in that way or any other that won’t heal in a few days.” He continues, “I’m heading over to Melissa’s now. She called to say she wanted to talk to me.”
“Did something happen?” I ask, a new worry rising in me.
“No,” Luke says. “But she sounded serious. I think Jake, at least I am hoping, that she is going to bring up the issue of her mother. She has been asking some leading questions lately.” He laughs then, “Hell, if she doesn't spit it out soon, I just might.”
I pause, not wanting my uncle to be hurt, “good luck, Luke. I really hope you get what you want.”
“Me too son,” Luke says. “I think it’s about time we both get what we want.” With that he hangs up his phone and I start my bike. I’m feeling a little more relaxed but I know I will not find true peace until I have Payton in my arms.