Chapter Two
“TheOnlyWayIsUp”—APOC
I n the back room of the hardware store, I pulled the dust cover off the Street Bob I’d left with my mom. She’d had my uncle start her once a week and take it for a spin to keep her alive. Lovingly, I trailed my hand over the handlebars, then along the tank, over the seat, and then the rear fender. The chrome glistened in the light that filtered through the open door. He’d obviously cleaned her up before I got here too.
“Go ahead. Take her for a spin. I know you’re dying to,” my mom murmured from behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder at her with a wistful smile. “Ah, I don’t know. It’s been over four years.”
Anson lifted his head from my mom’s shoulder. He had two fingers in his mouth, and he grinned around them when he heard me speak.
“You said you were riding a friend’s bike up in Chicago. Surely, they aren’t that different,” she argued.
“They aren’t. I was referring to riding here in New Orleans.”
“Pssh! I’ve never known you to be afraid of a dang thing for one minute of your life.”
“I don’t have my helmet.”
“Guess it’s a good thing your uncle bought you a new one. He was so excited to hear you were moving back. He can’t wait to go riding with you again.” She pointed to a box on one of the shelves with a crushed bow on it. If I wasn’t mistaken, it looked like a recycled Christmas bow.
I chuckled. Then I picked up the box to find it was the one I’d been thinking about getting. How the heck had he known? “He shouldn’t have.”
She snorted. “Try telling him that.”
Looking back at my mom, I sobered. “Does he know about the trouble you’ve been having?”
Her spine stiffened and she pressed her lips flat. “No. And don’t you dare go tellin’ him.”
Shaking my head, I sighed. My uncle was my mom’s much younger brother and the one who taught me to ride when I was just a kid. He gave me the little dirt bike he’d outgrown when I was about five after getting my dad to convince my mom it would be okay. He would’ve been about fifteen at the time.
I loved that thing, though I wiped out more times than I could count before getting the hang of it. My dad was so proud—my mom about had a heart attack. I rode the piss out of that thing on the property my uncle owned out toward the swamps. When I outgrew it, he bought me a bigger one.
Then he bought me the Street Bob—my pride and joy.
My uncle was a member of the Kings of Anarchy MC. Though he kept me and my mom well away from that side of his life, I wasn’t an idiot. I knew exactly what that 1% patch on his cut meant.
“I think you’re making a mistake. He might be able to help. Besides, if he finds out this has been going on and you never told him? He’s gonna be pissed. This store is still part his too, even if he did basically hand it over to you.” I tossed my hands up in the air and huffed in frustration. Then I closed the back door to the alley where the store got its deliveries and locked it.
“I’ll take care of it. I told you I would. You know that while I love you dearly and I’m so happy to have my grandson here, it wasn’t necessary for you to move back home. You left the wonderful new life you’d created for you and Anson to come here and help run a hardware store?” She looked like she was gonna cry. “You worked so hard to become a nurse and you had an amazing job there.”
“Yes, I did, and I’ll have an amazing job here too. I intentionally took some time off before I start here so I could help you out. Now give him to me so you can get to your appointment on time.” I held out my arms and Anson leaned forward. He hugged me tight and my heart damn near exploded. I loved him so much and I wouldn’t trade a minute of the struggle I’d endured during and after my pregnancy because it brought me this perfectly precious little boy.
“Okay, I should only be a few hours tops depending on traffic,” she assured.
“Mom, I wouldn’t care if you stopped for lunch and to see friends after your appointment. I can hold down the fort for you to have a day off,” I insisted.
She rolled her eyes. “I have days off, you know.”
“Well, you should have more.”
With a shake of her head and a soft smile, she kissed Anson’s cheek, then mine. “I’ll be back later. Don’t forget, your uncle’s club will be coming in to pick up supplies.”
“I got it. Now shoo!” I wiggled my fingers in a shooing motion to go with my words.
She laughed then left and I latched the door to the back room. Ralph had installed the lock toward the top of the door this morning to make sure Anson didn’t wander back there while he was here. I brought Anson into the office and started up his favorite cartoon on the TV Mom had in there. It reminded me of my childhood watching cartoons in this same office while my mom was working out front.
Now my son was doing the same thing. Though my mom may have been correct, I had left behind a great job up in Chicago, I didn’t regret it. Thankfully, I’d gotten a job with the VA. And coming back here just felt right. I paused in the doorway and looked back at my son. He was snuggled up on the couch with his favorite blanket and his Ziplock of Honey Nut Cheerios—his absolute favorite snack.
“Momma will be right out here. You stay in Nana’s office and watch your show. I’ll check on you.” He nodded while watching his show. For being almost four, he was smart as a whip. Sometimes too smart.
I walked up the hallway to the counter. Mom had already opened the register.
About thirty minutes later, right after checking on my son again, I heard the side door jingle as I was bringing Corky the next box of decorations he needed.
A familiar-looking guy with dark blond hair approached the counter. I dropped off the box and returned to the counter. He was quite good looking, but I had no idea where I knew him from, so I pasted a smile on my face. Hell, I could’ve gone to high school or college with him for all I knew. People changed a lot as they matured.
“Can I help you with something today?” I asked.
He set a paper down on the counter. It had a long list of items on it. He scratched his head in obvious discomfort and from the dark pink staining his cheeks—embarrassment. “Yeah, my prez told to come here and that y’all would be expecting me. I need to get all this stuff, but I have no idea where to find it all. Hell, I’m not even sure what some of that is.”
“May I?” I asked with a hopefully kind demeanor as I reached for the list.
“Please,” he replied with a sigh of relief.
I looked over the list, mentally trying to remember where everything was. I’d begun to regret insisting I could handle things while my mom went to her doctor’s appointment. When I glanced around, I saw that Corky was up on a ladder hanging the garland and lights from the ceiling tiles. Ralph was out loading up items for Mr. Haney.
The paint was easy. We could start there. As I motioned for him to follow me, I heard a clatter in one of the aisles. Then I heard Anson’s little voice loudly say, “Uh oh!”
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. He must’ve snuck by when I left the counter for a blink of an eye to bring Corky that box. Guilt hit me because what if he’d gotten out the door? Or someone had slipped behind the counter and down the hall?
Thankfully, Corky was heading back to the counter with the ladder in tow, so I shoved the list at him. “Corky, can you please help me out with this? I think Anson is getting into shit,” I whispered the last part.
“I got you, Ms. Buchanan,” he said as he took the paper.
I rushed off with a quick, “ Thank you!”
In the paint section, I found my son standing at the end of the aisle, looking down it with wide eyes. There was a man trying to grab a bunch of spray paint cans as they rolled away. I grabbed one that had headed my way.
Relief hit me that it wasn’t my son that had caused the mess, but if he’d startled the guy I wanted to apologize.
“I’m sorry about that. I’m just filling in right now and had to bring him with. I hope he didn’t cause this.” I rested my hand on Anson’s shoulder.
The guy was mumbling to himself and shaking his head. He obviously didn’t hear me.
“Anson, go back to Gigi’s office,” I murmured in his ear before kissing his precious little head. His little Converse shoes slapped on the floors as he hustled back to my mom’s office where he’d been watching Bluey. Then I went to help the poor man who was crouched down and trying to rectify the mess he’d made. My heart went out to him.
“It’s okay, I can get them,” I kindly told him as I gathered the scattered cans.
At my offer, his head shot up and his cheeks went pale.
Probably not as pale as mine must’ve been in that moment. “D-Dalton?” I stuttered as I blinked rapidly—like I could clear my vision of the figment of my imagination before me.
In the years since I’d seen him last, he’d gone from a still gangly young guy to a filled out, whole-ass man, yet I’d know him anywhere. His dark blond hair was shorter, but his eyes were the same pale blue that I’d seen every day for the last three years and ten months.
At that thought, I shook myself out of my shocked stupor and I whipped my head to make sure Anson had indeed gone back to his show. When I turned back to Dalton, he was staring at me.
As if all of his thoughts were playing out in words across his face, I could see the puzzle pieces clicking into place, followed by utter disbelief.
“Holy shit. Is that why I kept seeing him? How old is he?” he quietly demanded as his face went from sheet-white to an angry red.
No how ya been , no haven’t seen you in ages , no you look fucking amazing Ryian —just a question full of accusation.
“He’s three,” I quietly confirmed as I boldly met his direct stare.
“When. Is. His. Birthday?” he asked through clenched teeth.
My chest seemed to cave in, though I hadn’t kept Anson a secret from him on purpose. I’d tried to contact him after I found out I was pregnant. He was the one who had moved and changed his number.
Yeah, initially I ignored his calls. A couple months after moving, I found out I was pregnant. I tried calling him. His number was disconnected. I’d even tried calling the grocery store and I’d left a message. He never reached out. Not once in over four years. Surely, he had to have heard I was looking for him.
“You’re sitting here acting like you’re the injured party?” I asked incredulously.
“How could you not tell me?”
At that, I was pissed. I bolted to my feet, glaring down at him. He quickly stood up too.
“How could I not tell you ? Are you kidding right now? I tried to call you, but your number was disconnected. I sent you a letter, it came back to me as no forwarding address. I fucking emailed you! Guess what? That came back as undeliverable too! I called the grocery store ! My mom physically went to the grocery store. What else was I supposed to do, Dalton?” I was fuming and he simply stood there with his mouth hanging open.
He was a real piece of work.
“Get out of my store. I need to calm down and I can’t do it looking at you. My number is the same as it’s always been. If you really want to see your son and get to know him, I’ll work something out with you, but I don’t ever want to see you again. Goodbye.” I spun on my heel and stormed past a gawking Corky and the guy with the list.
Dalton called out to me, but I ignored him.
As I stepped into the office, I closed the door softly behind me with shaking hands. Anson was watching his show, blissfully unaware of the drama that had just unfolded between his parents.
His parents… damn, I wasn’t used to that. It had been the two of us since before he was born. Though I was angry, I was also reeling. This was the last thing I expected today. After not being able to find him after months of searching, then I move back years later, and he pops up—in my family’s store. What the hell kind of coincidence is that?
My chest was tight, and chills raced down my arms. With a soft sigh, I rested my head against the door and closed my eyes. If I was honest with myself, I was shocked at the effect he still had on me. It wasn’t fair. After everything he’d done, I shouldn’t still be attracted to him. I shouldn’t care.
It shouldn’t still hurt.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket. I pulled it out and my shoulders fell. Of course, I couldn’t be lucky enough that he forgot my number.
Unknown Number: You said you don’t ever want to see me again, but I think we both know that’s not going to be possible. I definitely want to get to know my son. We need to talk like the mature adults we are. When you’ve had time to think, please let me know.
Fuck.