Chapter Twenty-Eight Ozzy
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ozzy
“Nice of you to find time for lil old me,” my best friend, Diego, says, wiping his greasy hands on a rag as I park my bike just inside the detached garage he uses as a shop.
“You know where I live,” I say, ogling the red Mustang on his lift.
“Where’s your sidekick? Kai has been asking about her.” Diego stuffs part of the rag into the back pocket of his sagging black cargo pants before adjusting the yellow bandanna tied around his head of messy black hair.
“Lola’s at my mom’s house. She’s been spending more time there. I’m on my way to get her.” I run my hand along the newly painted bumper.
“Driving yet?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I wish.”
“I’m sure you do.” He opens his garage fridge and offers me a beer, popping the top as if it’s a foregone conclusion that I’m drinking.
I don’t turn it down.
“Thanks.” I take a swig.
“What’s new?” he asks.
“I met someone.”
“A woman?”
I nod.
“On your bike?”
“Well, I wasn’t on my bike when I met her, but she’s seen my sweet ride.”
Diego chuckles. “Don’t tell Cheyenne. I’ve led her to believe a man needs a muscle car beneath him to feel like a man. If she hears you’ve found someone, I’ll have to trade in my Mustang for a fat-tire bicycle.”
I shrug. “You don’t need a car to feel like a man, but damn, I miss getting behind the wheel and driving up to Glacier. Four-wheeling in the winter. Windows down in the summer. But on the flip side, my legs are fucking fabulous.”
Diego barks a laugh, shaking his whole body for a few seconds before he sighs. “Tell me about the woman.”
I stare at the beer bottle for a few seconds. “She’s a tanker pilot.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah, damn.” I bite my lower lip for a beat.
“Hot?”
Shaking my head, I glance up at him. “That’s your first question?”
“What?” He smirks. “Sorry. Is she beautiful on the inside?” He bleeds too much sarcasm to take him seriously.
“Her name is Maren. She’s funny and confident.”
“And hot?”
I ignore him by not looking at him. “She’s a badass pilot. She adores Lola.”
“Good in bed?”
I squint toward the street at nothing in particular. “She braided Lola’s hair for track-and-field day.”
“If you tell me she’s given you head, I’m not returning your car. Cheyenne has the worst gag reflex. She won’t even lick it.”
“Diego ...” I shake my head. “Dude, I’m talking about her braiding my daughter’s hair. You can’t mix that shit with giving head.”
“Fine, fine, fine. She likes your daughter. I’m just looking out for you, Oz. You deserve to get a little something, you know what I mean?”
I grin before taking another swig of my beer. “I’ve known you my whole life. I’m pretty sure I know what you mean.”
“So she’s at least tickled your balls. Right?”
I spit out my beer and laugh, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. “Yes, she’s tickled my balls and licked my dick. She’s fucking incredible in bed. Now, can we move on to more important things?”
Diego stills, unblinking, lips parted. When his shock wears off, his expression relaxes into something more serious. “Better than Brynn?” he asks.
Even though it makes me cringe, I’m not mad. He’s trying to be serious, not disrespectful.
I can’t look at him; all I can do is shrug. Sex and love are not interchangeable. Brynn was my wife. She was the mother of our child. It’s not possible for me to love someone more than I loved her.
“Fuck, man,” Diego whispers when my hesitation speaks the truth.
I shake my head, returning my attention to him. “No. I don’t want to compare Maren to Brynn. It’s not fair, and it’s unnecessary.”
Diego eyes me for a second before relinquishing a nod that’s as tiny as his smile. “She flies a plane, and you ride a bike. You can’t make this shit up. And let’s not overlook the elephant in the room—you got your pilot’s license. Seems almost torturous to date a pilot, don’t you think?”
“I can see how you might think that, but Lola’s alive. And Maren is amazing. I have a job I love. Although sometimes annoying, Brynn’s parents have gone out of their way to help me. And Lola now spends time with my mom and my aunt Ruth.”
Diego studies me. Of all the people I need to treat me like I’m not a lonely widower, it’s him. So I give him what he wants.
“Lola stayed the weekend with my mom and Ruth three weeks ago, while Amos and Tia visited Brynn’s brother. And Maren stayed the weekend. We had so much sex I lost count.”
Diego beams. “I’m gonna need details.”
“No.”
“Come on, man. Give me something for my spank bank.”
“Shut up.” I chuckle while walking around his Mustang.
“I’m happy for you,” he says with more sobriety.
“Me too. But now I must figure out how to tell Tia and Amos without rocking the boat. She’d love nothing more than for me to live a celibate life.”
“She doesn’t still blame you for the accident, does she?”
“Adjacent blame.”
“That’s messed up, Oz. What about Amos?”
I finish my beer and toss the empty bottle into the bin by the fridge. “Amos has his moments. I think he’d be fine with me moving on if Tia weren’t breathing down his neck, telling him what to think and do.”
“Play that angle. Get him on your side.”
I hum. “Maybe. What about you? How’s your family? What’s Kai doing this summer?”
This feels good: a beer with my best friend, a woman I adore, and a spark of hope that Lola and I will survive everything.
After Diego catches me up on his family, I sit in the driver’s seat of my green Land Rover Defender for a few minutes. I can still see Brynn next to me, still feel her fingers teasing the nape of my neck, still hear her soft laughter while Lola sings all the wrong words to her favorite song on the radio. Brynn hated the hood-mounted tire and hard, boxy lines. She said it looked like we were going on safari. And for that very reason, I swore I’d never sell it. She was so cute when she was mad.
Eventually, the memories become unbearable, so I slide out of the seat and gently shut the door, giving it two firm pats with the heel of my hand.
“I’m taking off,” I say to Diego.
“I drive her once a week. She’s still amazing. If you want to sell it—”
“I don’t,” I say while climbing onto my bike. “Later.”
I head to my mom’s house. All it takes is one smile from Lola to remind me everything will be okay.
“She’s here!” Lola squeals, running to the door in her pajamas a little before eight thirty. Maren starts another shift tomorrow, so Lola gets Bandit for a while.
Amos doesn’t move from the sofa; he’s glued to the Weather Channel. Tia, however, rests her book of crossword puzzles next to her cup of chamomile tea and stands from the gliding chair.
“Breathe, child,” I say while Lola shakes with excitement as I open the front door. If only I could take my own advice, because I’m dying to see Maren. We’ve had a few moments of sneaking since the party, but we’ve mostly texted or talked on the phone.
She smiles at Lola and hands her Bandit before entering the house. We’ve purchased food, toys, and a litter box, so Maren doesn’t have to transport anything but the cat.
“Hi,” I say, letting my gaze slide from her fitted white tee to her long legs and untied white sneakers peeking out beneath the flare of her faded jeans. “Come in.” I hold open the door and step aside just as Tia appears in the entry, petting Bandit in Lola’s arms.
“Hi, Tia,” Maren says before returning her gaze to me. “Actually, I’m going to head home and finish some laundry in case I leave town.”
I nod, fighting the need to touch her.
“You can kiss her, Dad. It’s not a secret,” Lola says.
I turn my head. Lola doesn’t look at me, but she smirks before nuzzling her nose into Bandit’s fur. However, Tia’s gaze burns into my skull.
I force a tiny laugh. “Lola, I don’t know what you’re—”
“Dakota’s mom takes a cycle class with my math teacher, who said she saw you at her house with Maren. They have a name for you, but I don’t think I should repeat it.” She slides her gaze to me with a gotcha expression. “My teacher called Maren your girlfriend .” Her grin splits her face in two. “I knew it!”
Tia clears her throat, but I don’t give her an ounce of my attention. When I turn back toward Maren, her blue eyes are saucers, and her lips are trapped between her teeth.
“Lola, go brush your teeth.”
“I already did, Dad.”
“Then go to bed.”
“But I have twenty more minutes.”
“Lola,” Tia interjects. “Go to your room. I need to have a word with your dad and Maren.”
“Fine,” Lola huffs.
I glance over my shoulder, watching Lola descend the stairs before narrowing my eyes at Tia. “I’m walking Maren to her car. If you want to talk to me , you can do it later. But Maren needs to get her sleep, and she owes you no explanation.”
“Ozzy, it’s fine. If Tia wants to talk, we can talk.”
“Tia doesn’t want to talk; she wants to lecture. There’s a difference,” I say, keeping my back to Tia.
Maren eyes her over my shoulder. I step toward her onto the porch, closing the door behind me.
“Evette told my daughter’s friend’s nosy mom about us? Isn’t there some confidentiality thing that prevents teachers from discussing their private lives with students?” I say.
“I didn’t think to tell her to keep us a secret.” Maren pivots and heads toward her RAV.
“She should have thought about it all on her own.”
“Ozzy, I’m sure it never occurred to her that our relationship is a secret. We’re not having an affair.”
“We’re not going to have anything if Tia decides this is a hill she’s willing to die on.”
Maren turns and crosses her arms, leaning into the driver’s side door. “What would you do if Tia weren’t here? You’d survive.”
“I wouldn’t be working, or at most, I’d be part time to take Lola to school and be there when school got out like I’ve done for the past two years. And when Brynn’s life insurance ran out, I’d have to sell the house and rent something small. And Lola wouldn’t be in therapy because I wouldn’t have insurance or a good-paying job to cover it. And sure, we’d get by, but it wouldn’t feel fair to Lola. So, despite my distaste for Tia, I’m not relishing their not being here to help.”
“Well, it’s summer break now. You have time to figure it out. What if I help you find someone to pick her up after school in the fall—on a bike? What if I help pay for it?”
I shake my head and laugh. “Sounds emasculating. And it’s not a solution if she gets sick.”
“You mean to tell me that Brynn didn’t make more money than you? Pay for more things than you?”
“That’s different. She was my wife and Lola’s mom.”
“And I’m the cat woman you screw.”
“Jesus, Maren. No, I’m not saying that. But we’ve known each other for two seconds, and I think abandoning all reason at this point would be pretty irresponsible. You could decide that dating a guy who only rides a bike isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Then what? Are you going to continue to pay for after-school transportation and childcare? Or will I be on my own? Which is exactly what I’m trying to avoid by not pissing off Tia.”
“You make more out of the bike than I do.”
“Because it’s emasculating too!”
She flinches.
I feel instant regret and release a long sigh. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, stabbing my fingers through my hair. “This is my life, and I hate that I have to remind myself how lucky I am despite the loss. Lola lived. Had she died, I don’t think I would have had the strength or the will to go on. And if Brynn had lived and Lola had died, I think it would have destroyed our marriage because both of us would have been mere shells of ourselves.”
Maren stares at her feet. “Maybe the timing is all wrong for us.”
I grunt. “It’s too late. I can’t fall out of love with you.”
Her gaze lifts to mine.
“What?” I ask when she doesn’t speak.
“They’re just words, Ozzy—three simple words. Yet I’m dying for you to say them together in order.”
I squint. “What do you mean?”
“You told me you never said you didn’t love me. And now you’re telling me you can’t fall out of love with me. And I know what those statements mean. But you haven’t just said it.”
The words sprint to the tip of my tongue, ready to take flight, but I grin instead. “I need something to keep you coming back for more.”
“Even if the timing is wrong?”
“Even if.”
She chews on the inside of her cheek for a few seconds. “Well, I have to go.”
I slide my hands along her cheeks, burying my fingers in her hair. “Be safe.” I kiss the top of her head without regard to Tia, who I know is glued to the window watching us.
“I will,” she whispers. “I love you.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Her hands grip my shirt, tugging it harder than necessary. “Don’t be an ass. Just say it.”
“I did. You wanted it in three words. I gave it to you in three words.”
“Speaking of giving people things. I know what you’re not getting anytime soon,” she murmurs as I duck my head and kiss her neck.
“If you end up leaving town, I’m well aware of what I won’t be getting.” I kiss my way up to her mouth.
She turns her head just as I reach her lips. “Say it.”
“You’re beautiful.” I kiss her cheek.
“Say it.”
“I’m going to miss you.” I kiss her forehead.
“Say it.” She jerks my shirt a little harder.
“We fell in love.” I kiss her nose.
“Ozzy ...” She sighs with defeat and lifts her chin to kiss me.