11. Chapter 11
eleven
D ecember rolled on, with increasing snow and cold winds. Christmas music played everywhere, lights and decorations appeared in all the windows, and people carried big shopping bags from store to store.
Cassie shopped for gifts at Mamba Mama’s, with her employee discount. It wasn’t the place she’d choose to buy for her family, but it fit her limited budget. So, she sucked it up and used the spare time between customers to do her own shopping.
In her opinion, she didn’t do too badly at all.
For her dad, she found a black, long-sleeved tee with a vintage Harley logo on the back. For Connor, a vintage poster of Beckham on the soccer field. It had a little tear in one corner, but she found another framed poster in a corner of the back store-room, covered in dust and cobwebs. She cleaned the frame up like new and swapped the posters. The Becks looked even better in his new/used frame, if she did say so.
And for RaeAnn, a delicate, little, hand-painted, China dish with a lid, called a ‘hair receiver’. Wondering what the thing was, Cassie had looked it up online. Apparently in the 1800’s women had brushed out their long hair at night, and then saved the strands that came out, coiled up in the dish, so they could use their own hair to pad their poofy up-dos in the morning. Weird, but she’d bet Rae would like the history of the little dish. And she could always use it to hold her rings, or whatever.
One snowy afternoon, the week before Christmas, Cassie was re-doing the shop window display, when she was surprised to look out onto the street and see two Flyer old ladies, Della and Shelle, smiling up at her from the sidewalk. Both were bundled in down jackets and loaded with shopping bags.
Della’s black hair streamed from under a red beanie. She wore black jeans and a red down jacket.
Shelle, with her golden skin and dark blonde waves, wore a pink beanie and brown jacket over her jeans.
With a quick look to ascertain the lone customer was contentedly browsing the used graphic novels section, Cassie beckoned them to come into the store.
She gave a final tweak to her display, which featured a life-sized plastic ET in a Santa hat, and various other alien props she’d found around the store, all nestled in faux snow with some cheap, glittery Christmas balls that had been in an old box in the back room. Totally cheesy, but for the vibe of Mamba Mama’s, it worked.
She hopped down from the bay window as the two women entered on a gust of cold air. “Hi, ladies,” she called. “Welcome to the weird and wonderful world of Mamba Mama’s. Christmas shopping, by any chance?”
They both nodded. “Saw your posts on Instagram,” Della said. “Had to come and see for ourselves.”
“So, can I help you find anything? We have what I like to call a varied selection,” she said wryly. “Which is a nice way of saying we have some cool stuff but also, unfortunately, a lot of junk.”
“Sure,” Della said, her bright gaze traveling down over Cassie and then back up. “But first, I wanna hear about you.”
“You look great,” Shelle added. “Love the new look.”
Della nodded vehemently.
Cassie flushed. Coming from these two, who along with Manda, were closest to her own age in the Flyer biker babe posse, but still older than she was and each gorgeous in her own way, this was a welcome compliment. “Thanks. Uh, RaeAnn and Rissa gave me a fashion makeover.”
“They sure did,” Della agreed. She flinched as Shelle elbowed her. “I mean … you were always cute, obvs, but now you look fab-yoo-lahs!”
“Love your hair,” Shelle said. She touched the ends of her own waves of light brown, springing from under her pink beanie. “I’ve always kinda wished I had straight hair.”
Cassie gaped at her. “Seriously? I wish my hair had half the body of yours.” Rae had shown her how to use products to give her hair body, both before and after blowing it dry, but Shelle’s long locks had the kind of wave other women envied.
Della cackled as she touched the ends of her own raven locks. “And I’ve thought about going platinum blonde. Guess we all want what we can’t have, huh?”
That was for sure. Cassie also wanted a Flyer she’d never have. These two had two of the best Flyers in Moke and Rav—hot and sweet.
“That’s human nature,” Shelle agreed, making Cassie wonder for a horrified instant if she’d spoken aloud.
But Shelle was eying Cassie’s ensemble. “I also love your outfit, Cassie. That sweater makes your eyes look really green, and the graphic is awesome.”
“Yeah,” Della agreed. “So cute on you—although if I wore that color, I’d look like death warmed over.”
“Thanks.” Cassie smoothed a hand down her sweater. Cut on the bias, the fine, chartreuse knit hung off one shoulder and was gathered at the hip with a loose bow. It would have been too dressy for Mama’s, except the entire front was a retro print of Bette Boop vamping on a big motorcycle.
Cassie wore a black cami underneath that matched her skinny jeans. Her only jewelry was her pair of multi-colored, bead dangle earrings.
Rae had shown her the trick of pairing looser, colorful tops with basic bottoms, like black or denim, to equalize her physique. Skirts were the exception, as short, patterned skirts showed off her legs and disguised her ass.
She still screwed up at times—only the morning before she’d pulled on a pair of green tights beneath her denim skirt, along with her yellow-and-magenta top. RaeAnn had winced when she saw this combo, although she tried to hide it. Cassie had hurried back upstairs and changed into a pair of black tights. Rae had given her an approving smile.
“Did you get the Betty Boop top here?” Della asked, looking around.
“Uh, no,” Cassie said. “Rae and I found it at 2nd Chances. It’s an upscale resale shop, a few blocks over.”
This sweater had originally cost a whack—Cassie had looked up the price online at a major department store. Still, not everyone was willing to buy clothing a stranger had worn first, even if it had been thoroughly cleaned.
“Ooh, nice,” Della said. “We’ll have to tell Manda; she loves bargain clothes. But here you have tees for guys, right? Saw a Led Zeppelin tee somewhere—oh, there it is, over there. Maybe I’ll find one for Rav.”
Shelle laughed quietly. “And for Moke, if you have XXL size.”
“We do,” Cassie said, lowering her voice so it wouldn’t carry beyond the three of them. “Can’t guarantee it’ll be anything you’ll like, though. Like I said, we have a real mix. Whatever my boss feels like buying or taking on trade.”
Della was already across the floor, flicking through the rack of men’s tees. “Rav would wear that Led Zeppelin tee if I can find it in XL. Awesome! Here it is.”
“Oh, my gosh.” Shelle snickered as she held up a huge men’s tee with Winnie the Pooh on the front, holding a jar of honey. “Who’d wear this?”
“T-Bear,” Della and Cassie said in unison.
Cassie could totally see the ginger biker wearing the tee under his Flyers’ cut and grinning. He didn’t have a self-conscious bone in his huge body.
“You think?” Shelle asked. “I’m getting it for him then. It’s only $9.95. Can’t wait to see his face when he opens it.”
“What about Manda’s face when he puts it on?” Della asked. “You better get her something nice to make up for it.”
Cassie nodded. She might not be part of their couples grouping, but she knew Manda well enough to know the strawberry blonde was on the shy side.
Another customer came in looking for a first edition comic, which Warren kept in a locked display case. Cassie went to help him.
As she finished ringing up his purchase, Della and Shelle approached, both with multiple items.
“Do you gift wrap?” Della asked as Shelle handed over her purchases and credit card to Cassie.
Cassie snorted. “I wish.”
She’d suggested as much to Warren, even offering to pick up some Christmas wrap and ribbon at Wal-Mart. He’d given her the same look of disgust he gave the pair of Jehovah’s Witnesses who came into the shop the week before to hand out their pamphlets, and shaken his head.
“No worries,” Shelle said, accepting her bag from Cassie. “Someone donated a bunch of Christmas décor and wrap to the thrift store in the Heights. Manda and I bought most of it. We can share.”
“Cool,” Della said, handing Cassie her credit card. “Rav bought us one huge roll of wrap—with dinosaur Santa all over it.” She sighed heavily.
Cassie and Shelle laughed. “For Boo?”
“Yup. Rav was so thrilled with himself I didn’t have the heart to tell him I don’t wanna use it for our adult friends. Of course, we may need all of it just for Boo, if Rav keeps buying toys.”
“He loves being a daddy, huh?” Cassie asked.
“Oh, yeah. Despite our rocky start, he so does. He’s already talking about number two. I haven’t even gotten my abs back in shape yet from carrying Boo.”
Cassie winced in sympathy.
“This was fun,” Shelle said. “Thanks, Cassie.”
“Yeah, we need to see more of you, now that you’re in town,” Della said. “Lunch at the Hangar soon?”
Cassie blinked, then smiled happily at this possible entree into their circle. “Sure. I’m off Sunday and Mondays. Or I can do drinks or dinner any evening.” Which was probably too much information.
But Della merely nodded. “Ok, you and Shelle should compare notes on her class schedule and your work. I’m the most flexible, since I’m home with Boo most of the time.”
“What classes are you taking?” Cassie asked.
“Counseling,” Shelle said. “I want to work with kids in the system, like I was.” She flushed slightly.
“Wow,” Cassie breathed. “That is so cool.”
Della beamed. “It is, huh?”
Shelle smiled shyly. “Thanks. Could I get your phone number, Cassie? Then we can text, see when we have an opening that works.”
Cassie rattled off her phone number, and Shelle put it into her phone. “Great. I’ll text you.”
“And now, we better get crack-a’lackin’,” Della said. “Need to get home and relieve Manda from Boo duty.”
Cassie said her goodbyes and watched smiling as they made their way back out into the wintry afternoon. What a great surprise. She could really use some friends here, and the two Flyer women were friendly and fun.
Warren shuffled out of his office, yawning. “You sell them gals anything, or am I just paying you to chit-chat?”
Her back to him, Cassie rolled her eyes. But she pasted a pleasant look on as she turned to face him. “They both made purchases—tee shirts that have been on the rack for months, a stuffed animal and a basket.”
“You’re welcome,” she added under her breath when his only response was to grunt and shuffle back into his office.
She had to get away from him before she raided his office and tossed all his damn edibles in the trash. Come to think of it, she might do that anyway as a kind of parting shot, once she found another, better job.
She smirked to herself, imagining his reaction to finding a cellophane pack of cheery little Gummy Bears smiling up at him from his desk drawer instead of the baggie of cannabis gummies he kept there.
That would almost be worth installing one of those secret cameras for.
On Monday, Cassie received a text.
Shelle:‘Lunch today @ Hangar?’
CassC:‘U bet. Wt tim??’
Shelle:’12 ok?’
CassC:’Purrfct! C U!’
Awesome. The weather was terrible, with a cold wind howling through town, blowing dust down the roads, and snow into drifts.
She wasn’t ready to face Heavy yet. And without his gym as an outlet for her energy, she was going stir-crazy. And though she’d been skipping meals out to save money for an apartment, she could go to lunch once.
Besides, it wasn’t much fun having a chic new look if only her family and customers at Mama’s saw it. Her family liked her no matter what. And face it, the clientèle at Mama’s were often comic con geeks after vintage graphic novels, many of whom would not admire any new fashion, unless it was a cosplay costume.
She fixed her makeup, donned her skinny caramel jeans, faux UGG boots, a slouchy cream sweater over a beige tank, a set of gold-tone bangles and her pearl dangle earrings. Then she shrugged into her new, short down jacket, which was bright chartreuse but suited her, grabbed her purse and ran downstairs.
Cassie’s dad was at work, Connor studying in his bedroom, with headphones on and a textbook open before him. Rae was wrapping small gifts for friends at the dining table, surrounded by piles of festive ribbon, bows and rolls of paper. She looked up to smile. “Headed out?”
“Lunch with Della and Shelle,” Cassie said.
Rae’s smile widened. “Have fun.”
“Thanks, I will.”
And she did, until something happened that nearly sent her back down into the dark place she’d gone after the charity concert.
Pete Vanko was bartending today as usual at The Hangar.
Cassie waved, and he gave her a friendly nod, then went back to pulling beers. She looked around and chose a high-top table for three in the bar area.
The only Flyers present besides Pete, for once, were Bouncer and Webb, playing a game of pool. Cassie waved to Webb, who smiled and winked, and nodded respectfully to Bouncer, who gave his usual grumpy chin jerk.
Della and Shelle arrived soon after Cassie. They ordered, beer for Della and Cassie, a Coke for Shelle, and cheeseburgers for the three of them, because the Hangar’s cheeseburgers were ah-mazing
The three of them also started right in talking about getting ready for Christmas, about life and clothes and whatever. It was the most fun Cassie had had in months.
The fun lasted until they had their food and were diving in, enjoying their juicy, piled-high burgers and hot, crisp fries and cold beers.
Because then Cassie looked over as someone strode through the crowded restaurant to the cash register.
It was Heavy. He had his head down, gaze on his phone, as he stopped by the register and leaned on it, profile to Cassie. He looked incredible, big and broad and so cut, this showed even in his down jacket and heavy track pants. He wore a beanie pulled down over his brow and ears, emphasizing the jut of his cheekbones and curve of his wide mouth as one of the waitresses hurried to him, bearing a fat paper bag and one soda cup.
He said something to the waitress, handed her a bill, and then strode back across the restaurant and out the doors without glancing toward the bar area.
Leaving Cassie feeling as if she’d been punched in the chest.
“So-oo, Heavy’s pretty hot, huh?” Della said.
“What?” Cassie looked at her lunch companions to find them both watching her. Della grinning and Shelle with a gentle smile.
Cassie shook her head. “Oh, no. He…uh…I. No, I just—” Realizing she was babbling, she snapped her mouth shut, her face burning. Dropping the remains of her burger on her plate, she took a hasty drink of her beer.
Della grinned at her. “Don’t worry, lips zipped. Not a crime to have wet panties over a man that fine.” She shrugged, her eyes twinkling. “Only crime would be if you let him go to waste.”
“Oh, trust me, he’s not,” Cassie said. “Uh, going to waste, that is. He has a… girlfriend.” Even though it gagged her to say the word.
Della’s face scrunched in disbelief. “What? No way. Rav hasn’t said anything. Has Moke?”
Shelle shook her head.
For an instant, Cassie’s heart lifted with hope, but then she remembered the last time she’d seen Heavy with the woman.
“He brought her to the Rides for Kids concert,” she told them, taking another drink of beer to wash the bitterness from her mouth. She could still see the slim brunette hanging on his arm that evening, giving Cassie that smug, bitchy little smirk.
“Well, damn.” Della scowled as she swirled a fry in ketchup. “Eh, maybe the bitch won’t last.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Cassie said, around the lump in her throat. “He’s not for me.”
The brunette eyed her as she munched her fry. “He could be. Has he seen you since, y’know, you changed up your look?”
“Um, no. I haven’t been to the gym for a while.” And that was good, right? Yeah, if she was still reacting to the mere sight of him this way. She needed to heal her heart, not make it bleed all over again.
“You should,” Della insisted. “It’s a great gym, I lurve the equipment. And you could wow him with your hotness.”
Yeah, and with her big ass, and her itty-bitty boobs. The opposite of his current woman.
No, she was not going there—literally or emotionally. She was through trying to catch the eye of a man who looked at her and saw an amusing kid.
“I don’t usually fix up to work out,” she said. “And I’ve seen the chicks who do, giggling and flipping their hair at the guys. Not my style.”
Della leaned in, a gleam in her eyes. “Maybe it should be.”
Shelle tipped her head. “Della has a point, Cassie. You don’t have to do that other stuff. Just be there and be fabulous. Then … see what happens.”
“Right.” Della nodded. “And tell me when you’re going, ‘cause I wanna see the look on that man’s face when he sees the new you.”
Cassie shook her head, and looked down at her plate, although her appetite was gone.
There was a short silence at their table, in contrast to the music, voices and rattle of dishes and cutlery around them.
“So, that’s it?” Della asked, finally. “You’re just gonna give up?”
Stung, Cassie looked up to find the dark-haired woman smirking at her, one brow raised in a clear challenge. Shelle sat quietly, one hand to her face, her eyes giving nothing away. No support there either then, fine.
She glared at Della. “What, are we back in elem school again? Are you daring me?”
Della smiled slowly. “Oh, yeah. You better believe it. I am triple dog-daring you, darlin’.” She leaned farther over the table, and pointed a finger at Cassie. “To make yourself as fabulous as you possibly can, then walk into that gym, and smile like you ain’t got a care in the world. And you won’t have, ‘cause me and Shelle will be right behind ya, won’t we, Shelle? Your wing-women—uh, wing-chicks. Or whatever.”
“Sure,” Shelle agreed slowly. “If you want us, Cassie.”
Cassie scratched her jaw thoughtfully. “Give me a sec, here. I’m trying to remember the last time I was dared, much less dog-dared. And triple-dog dared …? Not sure I’ve ever—“
“Yeah, yeah,” Della rolled her hand in the air between them, looking bored. “Enough reminiscing, chickie. You gonna take the dare, or … am I gonna order you a big bucket of ‘Bawk-bawk-bawk-BAWK! To go? Huh?”
As people all around them turned to see the source of the loud chicken clucking sounds, Cassie hid her face in her hands, snickering helplessly. Shelle shook her head, looking resigned but amused.
“I have a question,” asked a familiar, deep voice over their heads. “If that was a triple dog-dare, where’d the chicken come in?”
All three of them looked up to find Pete mock-scowling down at them, his brawny arms crossed.
“And would you three stop causin’ a ruckus in my pub?” he went on. “This is a nice, family-type place.”
Della snorted. “Yeah, run by bikers.”
“You’re right, though,” Cassie said, nodding. “Della was getting her dares all mixed up. I mean, she should’ve barked, not clucked.”
Della narrowed her eyes at Cassie. “Oh, you mean like a scared puppy wif her tail between her widdow wegs?” She whined, and then yipped, a crescendo of sound that made Cassie wince.
“Fuck!” Pete roared, clapping his hands over his ears. “Shut it, woman, now.”
The two middle-aged women at the table behind Della shoved their chairs back and rose, one glaring toward Cassie’s table. But the closest one turned and winked at Cassie. “I say, go for it, girl! And y’all have a great day.”
“Thanks, you too, ma’am,” Pete said. “And sorry about the language. Next time you come in, drinks are on me.”
Her brows rose. “Well, thank you. I, at least, will be back soon.”
She followed her companion toward the front doors, and Della poked Pete’s arm. “A Flyer, apologizing for language in his own bar?”
Pete scowled. “Lesa’s been ridin’ me about it. Says we need to keep it clean till at least Happy Hour. Get in more locals and shit.” He looked to Cassie. “Anyway, what are these two daring you to do, half-pint?”
Cassie froze. “Erm, nothing.”
Pete looked to Della and Shelle, but they both gave him big eyes and silence.
“Right,” he said. “Well, guess I’ll find out soon enough when you three are hip deep in shit and the brothers gotta come haul your asses out.”
“You will not,” Della said instantly. “Cassie just has to woman up and go back to the—“ she stopped with a yelp, genuine this time, when Cassie kicked her, hard, under the table. And judging by the the way she rubbed her arm, Shelle had elbowed her as well. Della pouted, but kept her mouth shut.
Pete chuckled, and reached to pat Cassie on the head. “Uh-huh, well, good luck with whatever, little bit.”
He sauntered away, and Cassie growled under her breath, then threw up her hands. “Now do you get it?” she asked Della and Shelle. “The brothers still see me as Cooler’s baby girl. Cute, but not an adult.”
Shelle nodded. “I see what you mean. Although, Heavy’s new. So, he most likely doesn’t see you that way.”
“He’s still seen me pre-makeover,” Cassie said, waving a comprehensive hand at her new look. “In full college girl slob mode, or whatever.”
“Then, it’s time to wow him all your new hotness,” Della insisted. “Till this is all he remembers.”
Shelle tipped her head. “Great point. You do look fabulous, Cassie. And you and he get along great, the times you’ve spent together, right?”
“Yeah,” Cassie said slowly. Because Shelle was right about that. They did get along great. So great.
‘So…” Della said, giving her a meaningful look.
“Okay, okay,”Cassie said. “I’ll do it!” Mainly because she didn’t want to know what else Della had in her bag of ‘embarrass her seat-mates’ tricks.
No, honestly, she’d do it because she was dying to strut back into the gym like Heavy didn’t matter–romantically, that is. She’d just needed a push to do so. Della’s dare, and Shelle’s gentle encouragement had given her that.
Her appetite renewed, she picked up her burger, and took a bite.
Della and Shelle were smiling at her.
“What?” she mumbled around a mouthful of juicy burger, melty cheese and all the trimmings. “This is delish.”
“Tastes way better than chicken,” Della agreed with a wink.
Cassie rolled her eyes, but Della was not wrong.