Ride or Ruin

Secrets

The entrance was located in the alleyway, the door to the basement was luckily separate from the lobby. The space was surprisingly comfortable compared to the upstairs and I was already decorating it in my mind as Mrs. Baker showed us around. It was simple; one bedroom with an open-concept kitchen and living room. It was furnished with a queen bed and a single dresser, a gray couch with an old school tube tv, and a two-person breakfast table.

The aesthetic Mrs. Baker was going for was very 80s and I could tell she was proud. Mr. Baker was out right now, hopefully not collecting a new victim for his showroom. But I learned there was a small apartment behind the lobby upstairs where the Bakers lived. They had lived there since their first year of marriage nearly fifty-two years ago. The basement used to be storage but was renovated a few years ago for some extra cash.

Having my landlord directly above me felt a little weird but Mrs. Baker seemed like a very sweet lady. She was also very talkative. Once we were able to escape, we went back to the diner for some lunch. My home in Washington wasn't too much bigger than Oak Ridge but the differences were vast. Everything here was more of the country you would see on tv but with bikers thrown in. Many people had almost southern accents and the town seemed to be split between leather slacks and leather jackets.

"What's the deal with the bikers here?" I asked as I looked over the menu, which was only filled with greasy, country fried everything.

"They've always been here, you don't remember? Your dad was one of them."

I looked at her confused. I don't remember. My memories of my father were of him at my soccer games or school plays. Of him sitting in the kitchen, flirting with mom even though they had been together forever. Or him out in the garage, smelling of sawdust and gasoline. There were no leather jackets or motorcycles.

Before I could ask, the waitress came to take our order. I ordered a house salad and let the biker conversation go for the moment. I wanted to get Lily to go home so I could ask the townspeople the real gossip. Lily had a knack of holding back, trying to protect me surely, and I wanted the truth. Maybe Marley or Mrs. Baker could answer my questions. I thought again of calling my mom. I hadn't told her yet that I'd moved back to Colorado. She wouldn't be too happy.

After lunch, I told Lily I wanted to get some rest before settling in to my new place and that I would call her later so we could see if any of the local shops had things to decorate the apartment with. "Alright, well, I'll be at the bar when you're ready." I talked to Lily every week since we were in our teens, but I realized I didn't know much about her day-to-day life. Was she actually an alcoholic?

I knew Lily's mom was disabled and Lily was paid to care for her, but she never really talked about what she did all day here in this isolated mountain town. Her outfit today, tight-fitting black jeans and a rolling stone T-shirt, made me wonder if she might be part of the biker club. She definitely wasn't a cowgirl.

Outside the door to my mini apartment, I took in the beautiful day. A sidewalk led up to the door and a four-foot grassy patch separated the taxidermy from the auto body lot. There was enough room to get a couple of chairs and a side table for me to enjoy the fresh mountain air.

The auto shop was kept pretty tidy with most of the vehicles in the back. A wide open space for the parking lot allowed me an unobstructed view of the sky and I imagined myself searching for shooting stars on lazy summer nights. There were two bay doors on the auto shop with a Skeeter's Garage posted above the door frame.

One of the bay doors was opened and I could see a man bent over a motorcycle. As he stood, I could tell he was exceptionally fit. The distance made it hard for me to make out too much detail apart from his dark brown hair and that he was every bit of the tall, dark, and handsome I was interested in. If that was my view every day, then maybe I would like this apartment after all.

He turned toward me and I put a hand to my forehead to block the sun and my dirty blonde hair from blowing in my face. I could just barely make out the oil stains on his blue jeans and continued up his black T-shirt to his rugged yet boyish face. He was staring at me as much as I was staring at him and it almost looked like he was making a face. I squinted and peered closer at the familiar look until I recognized the smirk.

I grabbed for the key Mrs. Baker gave to me earlier and rushed into the door, slamming it behind me. "Welp, Cole Lawson knows where I live now." I said out loud and sarcastically as I leaned my head against the door.