Convinced Kimberly was going to be a part of my life – at least until I fucked up – I decided to take her to one of my favorite spots in the San Diego area.

Sunset Cliffs was a series of coastal cliffs and sea caves that had been carved naturally into a large section of stone that overlooked the Pacific Ocean. I’d done some of my best thinking there and hoped Kimberly could find a way to enjoy the spot’s seclusion as much as I had.

Standing on the narrow trail that led to the cliff, I pointed toward the limestone overhang and glanced over my shoulder.

“That’s it,” I said.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh. Wow. It’s beautiful.”

“Been sitting on that rock for years,” I said. “Follow me. I think you’ll like it.”

Five minutes later, we were sitting on the edge of the stone cliff, looking out over the Pacific Ocean.

“This is incredible. I can’t believe I didn’t know it was here,” she said. “Does it have a name?”

“Sunset Cliffs is what they call it. From where we’re sitting to all the way over there.” I pointed several hundred feet north, toward another section of stone that jutted out over the beach. “I’ve been coming here for twelve or thirteen years and solving problems.”

“What kind of problems?” she asked, keeping her eyes fixed on the western sky.

“The kind that can’t be resolved on my bike.”

“I might be crazy,” she said. “But I’d guess that thing can solve about anything that might come up. I love riding on it.”

“Sometimes riding isn’t enough,” I said.

“When my parents died, I went to Joshua Tree. It reminds me of this place. There’s no ocean, but it’s as serene.”

“I have to force myself to remember your parents are gone,” I said. “I can’t imagine losing my mother.”

“Tell me about her.” She looked at me. “If you want to.”

I rarely got a chance to talk about her to anyone other than Ghost and Baker, and they weren’t as interested in hearing about her as I was to talk.

I fixed my eyes on the horizon. “She’s older than you might think. Sixty-two this year. She grew up in Northern Ireland. Belfast to be exact. She married her way into citizenship. Tied the knot with a man she didn’t know, just to get away from the fighting between the Catholics and Protestants. When I was a kid, she told me stories of the Peace Walls, and how Catholics lived on one side, and Protestants on the other. She said that there were Catholics that had never spoken to a Protestant, and vice versa. Her parents raised her to embrace all races and religions. When they were killed by a bomb blast, she decided she’d had enough of the fighting.”

“That’s awful,” she said. “I’m so sorry she had to grow up exposed to that anger.”

“She’s not.” I shook my head at the thought of my mother’s optimism. “She says it caused her to embrace her convictions. She raised me to be open-minded, and not to hate someone because of who they prayed to, or what they looked like. She said there’s only one God, and that there’s just a lot of different understandings of how pray to him and who he or she might be. We’re all after the same thing, according to her.”

“She sounds like a smart woman.”

I grinned. “She is. She came here with her husband. After ten years, she hadn’t got pregnant. Wanting a family, and convinced she was infertile, he left her. A one-night stand with an oil field worker who was passing through proved he was wrong and produced her only child. She changed her name back to her maiden name before giving birth to me, so I could be Irish.”

“That’s an awesome story,” she said with a smile. “Do you ever see her?”

“At least once a year.”

“Where does she live?”

“Great Falls, Montana.”

“How far away is that?”

“Thirteen hundred and thirty miles if I ride to her house. Thirteen fifty to the cabin.”

“Do you ride your bike?”

“I do.”

It felt good to share my mother’s existence with someone other than the men in the club. She was the only woman I was close to, and I’d spent a lifetime believing she’d be the only one I’d ever care about.

I now questioned my beliefs.

“She had you when she was thirty-one?” she asked.

“Thirty. I’ll be thirty-two in six months. She had me late in life. She’s convinced I was a miracle baby. I told her there are a lot of women who have babies much later in life but arguing with her is like arguing with a rock. She’s stubborn.”

She shifted her gaze to the ocean. “Do you want kids?”

I laughed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve always hated women. You’re cool, but you’re the only woman I’ve ever met that I can be around for longer than thirty minutes without getting a headache. Having kids is the last thing on my mind. Why?”

“I was just wondering.”

“What about you?” I asked.

“I’d love to be able to have kids,” she said. “I wasted my chance by being married for so long.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m past my prime.”

“Hell, you never know,” I said.

“Actually, I do. I’m six months into menopause.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m unable to have kids. On the upside, I don’t need to worry about birth control.”

The thought of having children in my life made me itch. “I guess the birth control thing’s a plus.”

“What about marriage?” she asked.

“What about it?”

“What are your thoughts in it?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Growing up in a house with only one parent and having four friends that either had no parents – or one parent – made me kind of look at marriage as a joke. What about you?”

“It’s a sheet of paper that’s as worthless as the lies that are printed on it,” she said.

“Sounds like we’re in agreement on that.” I nodded toward the horizon. “You’re going to miss it.”

She turned toward the ocean and gasped. “I know why they call it Sunset Cliffs. This is going to be amazing.”

As she gazed out at the horizon, I admired the contour of her face. I’d never seen anyone as beautiful as she was. Her beauty was so much more than what could be seen. Each day seemed to expose another quality about her that I found remarkable.

I never would have imagined a woman being an active part of my life, but then again, I never knew women like Kimberly existed. Spending a day without her was a thought I didn’t want to think about.

It was time for me to take the big step. To take our relationship tit he next level.

I brushed her hair behind her ear with the tip of my finger. “Before the sun sets. I want to ask you something.”

She kept her eyes fixed on the multi-colored horizon. When the sun disappeared behind a cloud – just above the horizon – she glanced at me. “Okay.”

“Goose is having his Friday deal on Friday, and I was wondering if you might want to go. Baker’s Ol’ Lady will be there, so there’ll be at least one person you can talk to besides me.”

“Goose is the guy down the street?”

“Yeah. The one that was there the day I smacked Tito.”

“What’s the Friday deal?”

“It’s a deal he has every Friday. It’s not mandatory, but most of us go. It’ll be a chance for you to meet the fellas. Give ‘em an idea of why I’ve been missing for the last month.”

She looked at me and smiled. “Sure. I’d love to.”

“Goose is a good cook.”

Her eyebrows raised. “So, we’re going to eat there?”

“Yeah. That’s what it is. Barbeque. Beer. Margaritas. He smokes meats. Sometimes he fries a turkey. He’s been known to make some pretty good tamales, too.”

She chuckled.

“What?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Getting information out of you is close to impossible.”

She was right, but I didn’t agree with her. I didn’t disagree, either. There was a time and a place for arguing, and Sunset Cliffs during sunset wasn’t it.

Sitting so close to her I could taste the sweetness of her perfume, I sat and watched the sunset. As the orange sphere disappeared behind the wall of water, only to be replaced by an indigo and pink sky, I gave thanks for Kimberly’s existence – and for my ability to be in her presence without doing anything stupid.