The New Life: Weekend at Ds

I lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. Bella squirmed as her nose stuck out from under the comforter. She’d hastily gotten into bed as soon as I pulled the comforter back and refused to move once I had gotten in. “She usually sleeps in that bed alone.” D had told me earlier when I had put my stuff in the room.

“I’m sure we will get along just fine.” I had said as I patted her on the head.

I slid over in the king sized bed to give her more room. She groaned and stretched out, “you are as bad as a man.” I mumbled as I shoved the pillow under my head. She snorted and rolled around under the comforter so her paws were pressing against my back. “Come on now we have to share the bed.” I mumbled. She pushed a little harder, “D thinks you've got personality." I said exaggerating the last word, "I think you are a spoiled brat.”

Eventually we had stopped arguing and both had fallen asleep. I awoke from a dream around one and she had taken to her side of the bed. I brushed my hair out of my face and tried to catch my breath. Nightmares have been bothering me for the last couple of weeks. I tried to relax in bed but couldn’t do it, so I got up and walked downstairs to the kitchen.

D had built this house from the ground up, he’d only been living in it for a week. It was oddly close to my dream house, I had thought that when I had arrived at the doorstep, “familiar.” When I had first learned D was building a new home I was amazed. He’d lived in the house he was born in; he’d lived in it for close to forty years. “Why are you moving?” I had asked.

“Because I need more space and I think it’s time to move on.” He had replied.

I stood in the kitchen as I replayed that through my mind. “Better late then never.” I mumbled as I found a glass. The fridge was stuffed full of food. D had found his inner chef somewhere after his mother had passed. He’d mastered everything but brownies, he still begged me to bake those, and after tasting his version I knew why. I grabbed the Coke out of the fridge and poured an almost full glass. I settled it back in the fridge and walked down to the game room.

The lights flickered on as I found the light switch. “If you’d keep the whiskey in the kitchen.” I mumbled, building my argument for if he walked in. I walked past the pool table over to the bar. I set my glass down on the bar and walked around it. I touched each bottle as I looked for the Jameson. When I reached it I kissed the bottle then poured a double, maybe it was a triple. I smiled put the bottle back and took the remote off of the bar top.

I sunk into the leather couch and turned on the flat screen. Eventually Bella came to find me, “what’s wrong you had the bed to yourself.” I mumbled as she jumped up beside me. “You could have at least brought a blanket.” I mumbled. She groaned and laid down next to me, her silver head hanging off of the couch, “don’t blame it on me.” I mumbled then took a sip of my mainly whiskey and Coke. I closed my eyes and listened to the quiet chatter on the TV. When I had finished my whiskey I took the glass back to the kitchen and found my way to the garage.

I walked past the newly hung Harley memorabilia. Bella’s tags clinked behind me, “you could be quieter.” I whispered. She snorted but kept following me. We made it to the garage where I flicked the florescent lights on. The pickup was thawing out leaving puddles on the floor. My eyes shifted from it over to the row of bikes. D had put the Panhead back together and then had bought another addition, a 1957 Sportster. It sat uncovered between my Sportster and the Road King. The five bikes sat perfectly aligned along the edge of the garage, The Road King, The Vintage Sportster, My Sportster, The Panhead, and finally The Fat Boy. I smiled at the line up. Along the wall behind them hung pictures of vintage Harleys, pictures I had found for him. “Eventually I’ll get a shop built just for the bikes.” He had mumbled as we stood in the garage earlier in the day admiring the pictures we'd just hung.

Bella sat on the top step and stared at me. I sighed and walked over to my bike, she was uncovered, I’d been messing with her earlier in the day, and despite D’s insistence I had left the cover off. A habit he said he’d break me of. I laughed as I thought about it all.

In all the time we had known each other I hadn’t once asked to ride his motorcycle. He’d always had one and he had always wanted me to ride; I guess it wasn’t what Fate wanted. Fate wanted my first ride to be with someone else, someone special. I ran my hand across the paint and smiled.

“I know what’s going to happen. I’m going to swing my leg over and shit will hit the fan.” I whispered. She beckoned to me, drew me closer, begging me to just swing over. I walked around her admiring her grace. She was prettier then the older Sportster, more graceful. Of course motorcycles aren’t supposed to be graceful; they are supposed to be masculine, but not her. I slid my hand across the seat and finally swung over. I took her off of the stand and sat down, balancing her between my legs.

It was rapid, the rush of emotions. I had bottled them up, fought them every step of the way, but I couldn’t stop them now. I thought about how I wanted so badly to ride with Bowman. How I could have spent every single second of everyday on the back of his bike. I remembered the first time I had felt the rush of the bike, how I was instantly hooked. Then I felt it, his hand on my knee, and I lost it. I lost every ounce of strength I had built up. It rushed over me and I knew why the nightmares were haunting me.

“Damn it.” I sobbed through the pain. “I thought I was over him.”

Bella whined as she stared at me. D stepped out from around the door and watched me. “You okay?” he asked.

I nodded.

He stepped out into the garage, “I was hoping this wouldn’t happen.”

I shrugged, “I knew it was going to.”

He sighed, “Is there anyway to make it better?”

I sat quietly for awhile. “Probably not.”

“Oh.” He whispered.

My eyes met his. “I thought I was over him, over the damn pain. But here I am again crying.”

He nodded, “You said you wouldn’t cry anymore.”

“I know.” I moaned, and then settled the bike back onto the stand. I swung around and took a step back.

“You know it’s okay to not be over him yet. It’s okay to remember riding with him, shooting with him, loving him. It’s okay for all of that to still be there.” D said in a low voice, “after all you thought he was the other half of your soul.”

I nodded but didn’t make eye contact. "I still love him."

“You can still love him, but you can’t hold out hoping he will be back. Does a part of you still think he is your soul mate?”

I stood silently.

“Beck, now is the time to let Fate have the reins.” He said quietly, “Let the Lord guide you. Let Sonny help you. Let someone else have the reins. I know you ride to win, but maybe this with him is a ride you can't win."