Chapter Seven
“Your dad and me want to be alone. Why don’t you go out and do something with your friends? Oh, that’s right. You don’t have any friends.” Shanna blew on her neon orange nails.
Fallon switched off the television, anger curling around her spine. “Dad told me you guys were going into Durango to shop and have lunch today.”
“So the fuck what? Plans change, but you wouldn’t know that since you never have any plans. Why your dad keeps you around, I’ll never know. When I was twenty-one, I didn’t freeload off my mom. I fuckin’ worked.” She reached for the bottle of topcoat. “I ’spose he feels sorry for you because you’re a cripple.”
You pumped-up fucking bitch! “I’m outta here.” Fallon threw the remote on the table, spilling the topcoat everywhere.
Shanna leapt up. “Fuck! Look what you’ve done, you stupid ingrate. Come over here and clean it up.”
Fallon went out the front door, slamming it behind her. Anger strangled her trembling body. No matter what Dad says, I’m getting a job and my own place. I’m sick of all this shit! She walked away from the house, ignoring the shrill calls of her name behind her. Shanna can rot in hell for all I care. And I hate her long, gaudy nails.
A horn beeping stopped her in her tracks. Did Shanna actually ruin her nails to come after me? Another beep, then a friendly voice. Sylvia.
“Where’re you headed?” Sylvia asked.
“Nowhere. I just had to get out of the house.”
“You want to come with me to Alina? I want to check out this one drugstore. I heard they have a great selection of makeup and shampoos. We can get something to eat, you know, make a day of it. It’ll be fun, and I’d love the company.”
Getting away for the day was just what she needed. “Sure.” She went over to the car and slid in.
Alina was a bigger town than Tula and had more shops and restaurants. Fallon hated living in Tula; she wanted to move away to a bigger town, or maybe a city. The memories she’d built there were ones she tried to forget. It seemed to her that after her mom had left and run off with another man, she’d stopped living. Fallon had only been ten years old when her mother left without taking her. Even though eleven years had passed, she still couldn’t believe her mother had done that and left her with her dad—a miserable excuse for a man.
“I love the drive to Alina. It’s so pretty with the sagebrush and barren landscape, and then in the background the tall, proud mountains. It gives me shivers every time I make the drive. Have you been to Alina before?”
“A few times with my dad when I was a kid. Once I had my fall, he stopped taking me.”
“How old were you when you fell off the roof?”
“Fourteen.” An image of her begging her father to take her to Alina popped in her head. It was a year after her fall and she’d wanted to buy a new dress she’d seen on the website of one of the dress stores. Her father had refused to take her. “If you think I’m going to have everyone staring at me and whispering that I have a freak for a daughter, you’re crazy. All you think about is yourself. You’re just like your trashy mother.” The words had pierced right through her, and as she remembered them, they hurt just as much as they did when he’d first said them.
“You like country music?” Sylvia asked.
Fallon didn’t but she’d listen to anything that would block out the memories. “Yeah. Crank it up.”
For the rest of the morning, Sylvia shopped like she’d never seen stores before. She kept saying, “It’s like I’ve been deprived for years,” then would giggle and put some more lipstick or eyeshadow or tiny panties in her shopping cart.
“Aren’t you gonna buy something?” she asked Fallon as she placed a pack of fuzzy lime green socks in the cart.
“I don’t think so. I don’t really need anything.” Fallon put a pair of patterned stockings back on the shelf.
“We didn’t drive all the way to Alina to buy stuff we need. Every woman deserves to treat herself to something frivolous every now and then. Now, what do you want?”
Fallon shrugged as she scanned the shelves, her gaze landing on delicate bottles of perfume. She’d never worn any fragrances before. Once in a great while she’d sneak into her dad’s master bath and spray on some of Shanna’s perfumes, but she always ended up washing them off. They made her smell cheap, and she’d wondered why women wanted to smell like overpowering gardens.
“I think a nice, light fragrance is just what you need.” Sylvia took a sample bottle filled with purple liquid off the shelf and pressed the top down. A fine mist sprayed out and in a second or two, the small space between her and Fallon held the aroma of lilacs. “That’s nice. What do you think?”
Fallon shook her head. “I don’t like smelling like flowers. Although, I’m surprised how light the scent is. Shanna’s stuff is overpowering.”
“Shanna wants to make sure everyone knows she’s there. I sometimes have to hold my breath when I’m around her. I don’t think she agrees with the saying that less is more.” Sylvia chuckled as she reached for another sample filled with a very pale yellow liquid. Once again, she spritzed the fragrance in the air.
The scent of fresh lemons and sugar cookies enveloped Fallon and she inhaled deeply. The aroma reminded her of the summers she’d spent with her mother before she’d run away. She and her mother would spend lazy afternoons sitting on the back porch, sipping homemade lemonade and eating freshly baked sugar cookies. They’d pretend that their time together was forever because both of them had been afraid to think of how everything would change once her dad got home from work. If he was in a good mood, the casualness of summer would continue, but if he was in a bad mood, she’d run to her room and climb out the window to sit on the flat roof that was underneath it. The roof was her hiding place and refuge. It was there that she turned off the hollering, the crying, and the occasional hitting that came from the house.
“Do you like it?” Sylvia pumped the top again.
“It’s very nice. It’s not strong or too sweet,” Fallon said.
“It’s delicate like you are. You should buy it. Every girl needs a nice fragrance. It makes you feel pretty and special.” She handed a cellophane-wrapped yellow box with gold lettering to Fallon. “You should buy this.”
She grasped the box in her hand, excitement coursing through her. “I think I will.” She walked over to the cashier and paid for her purchase.
As she waited for Sylvia to finish checking out, she carefully removed the cellophane paper and ran her finger over the raised words. She thought it was the prettiest box she’d ever seen. Slipping her finger under the top, she opened it and picked up the tall elegant-looking bottle. She took off the gold cap and misted the perfume on the sides of her neck, her wrists, and around her hair. A burst of sugary lemon filled her nostrils and a feeling of weightlessness made her giggle.
“You smell real nice, Fallon. That’s a perfect scent for you,” Sylvia said as she pushed the cart with her bags toward the store’s exit. After she’d placed all her purchases into the trunk, she turned to Fallon. “I’m starving. Why don’t we get something to eat?” Fallon nodded, a smile spreading on her face. “I heard Leroy’s Diner has good food and it’s cheap. After all the money I just spent, cheap sounds real good.”
After finding parking a block away, Fallon and Sylvia settled into a booth by the window looking out to the street. The diner had a few open tables, but it was pretty much full. Every stool at the lunch counter was taken, and the waitresses, in sky blue dresses with white piping, hustled about. A woman with her hair wrapped in a tight bun, wire-rimmed glasses, and the brightest coral lipstick Fallon had ever seen came over with a pad in her hands.
“Whatcha want to drink?” Fallon guessed their waitress to be in her late thirties or maybe early forties.
“I’ll have a lemon Coke with lots of chipped ice,” Sylvia said, her attention on the menu.
“Is your lemonade homemade?” Fallon asked.
“Not now. Only in the summer.”
“Oh. I guess I’ll have to come back in a couple weeks,” she joked. The waitress didn’t crack a smile as she tapped her pencil against her pad. “I’ll have iced tea, please.” The woman spun around and dashed over to the counter.
“Everything looks so good. I don’t know if I want breakfast or lunch,” Sylvia said. “What’re you going to have?”
“I think I’ll have a turkey club. I wonder if they have cranberry sauce.”
“I bet they do. I think I’m going to have the chicken fried steak and eggs. It comes with homemade biscuits. I told you I’m starving.” Sylvia laughed and closed her menu.
After they placed their order, Fallon leaned back against the turquoise cushion and stared out the window. She exhaled, then glanced at Sylvia, who was looking in her shiny red compact mirror. Fallon cleared her throat. “I’m having a nice time. Thanks for asking me to come along.” She picked up her iced tea and took a sip.
“You gotta get out more. Staying with your dad and Shanna all the time would drive me crazy. And when you’re not with them, you’re hanging around the warehouse. It’s not good. Don’t you have any friends in town? I mean, you’re from Tula, right?”
Fallon nodded. “I wasn’t popular in school. Actually, I got picked on a lot, and when I had my accident, I hated going to school. Everyone stared at me and I felt like a freak.”
Sylvia shook her head. “I’ll bet there were a lot of people who didn’t pay any attention to your leg. You felt self-conscious about it so you probably thought everyone was staring. Sometimes we’re our own worst enemy.” Her eyes lit up when the waitress placed a large plate smothered in brown gravy in front of her.
Fallon laughed. “You look like a kid on Christmas morning.” She pulled out a couple more napkins from the dispenser on the table and then picked up her thick sandwich.
As they ate, warmth spread through her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a wonderful day. It was nice going out with another woman, talking about makeup and rock stars, eating lunch together, and being like everyone else. Even though Sylvia was a few years older than Shanna’s twenty-seven years, Fallon had so much more in common with her than with her stepmom. When her dad had first started dating Shanna, Fallon had been excited about having a woman around her age as a friend. Shanna had been friendly in the beginning, but Fallon now knew it was all an act to hook her father. Once they got married, she turned into a mean bitch, and any hope Fallon had of being friends with her was crushed by her hurtful words. The worst part was that her dad always sided with Shanna. It was like he forgot she’d been his daughter longer than the bitch was his wife.
“How’s your sandwich? It looks super yummy.” Sylvia dunked her biscuit into the egg yolk on her plate.
“The best. The turkey and ham are roasted. They’re definitely homemade. It’s not like the pressed junk you usually get in club sandwiches.” She popped a potato chip in her mouth.
As they talked, the window shook slightly. “What the hell is that?” Sylvia said. Before Fallon could answer, about ten or twelve motorcycles roared past the diner; the sound was deafening. “Oh wow. I’ve never seen so many bikers riding all at once. I mean, damn… all that testosterone kind of gets you wet, you know?” She wiped her forehead with a napkin.
“I guess. Last Saturday there were a bunch of bikers during the fights. Don’t you remember? There was that big fight between them.”
“I remember, but your dad made us go upstairs when shit hit the fan. I didn’t really get to see any of them. I don’t know what it is, but a man in tight jeans with a bunch of tattoos riding a motorcycle just turns me to putty.”
“I think they’re scary. But I’ve begun to like tattoos on men.” Diablo popped into her head.
All of a sudden, a lot of stomping, talking, and laughing filled the diner. Sylvia’s eyes widened. “The bikers just came in from the back. Now we get to have some eye candy with our dessert.”
“Dessert? I couldn’t eat another thing.” Fallon pushed her half-eaten sandwich away from her. “I’m officially stuffed. How many bikers are there? Do they look scary?”
“I’d say there’re about twelve of them, and they look delicious. Turn around and see for yourself. And I’ve got to try a scoop of homemade chocolate chip ice cream.”
Fallon nonchalantly looked behind her at a large table filled with men dressed in denim and leather. All of them had tattoos and wore black vests with a lot of patches on them. Then her eyes landed on Diablo. Oh my God! He’s here. Panic replaced casualness and she faced forward, slinking down in the booth.
“What’s wrong? You’re as white as a ghost.”
“I’m not feeling so well. We should go.”
“I just ordered my ice cream. Get yourself a 7-Up or a Coke. Whenever I was sick when I was a little girl, my mama always gave me something fizzy. It really helps an upset stomach, but if you really want to go, we can.”
“No… that’s okay. Just hurry and eat your ice cream so we can go.”
“All right.” The waitress came back with a bowl of ice cream and placed it in front of Sylvia. She picked up the dishes and walked away. “Mmmm… this is so good. Do you want to try a small taste?”
Fallon shook her head, her stomach twisting. Why am I so bothered by him being here? He was nice to me. He made me feel some weird shit. I hope he doesn’t see me. I don’t want to talk to him.
“Well, I’ll be damned. You know that bouncer your dad hired? You know, the good-looking one who’s built real nice with the beard and shaved head? He’s over there with that table of bikers. Shit, I didn’t know he was a biker. That awesome Harley that’s parked behind the warehouse during the fights must be his. Well I’ll be damned.” Sylvia pushed away her ice cream and took out her compact again. She touched up her lipstick and blotted her face with a tissue. Pushing up her hair with her fingers, she ran her tongue over her teeth, then smiled. “Any lipstick on my teeth?”
“No. Are you going over there?” Fallon whispered.
“What’s the matter with you? And sit up. Before you know it, your butt’s gonna hit the floor.”
“It looks like you’re finished. Can we go?”
Shaking her head, Sylvia scooted out of the booth. “I have to go to the ladies’ room. Ask the waitress for the check.”
Fallon motioned for the waitress who ignored her. “Ma’am,” she said in a loud voice. A few diners looked at her. The woman came over. “We’d like our check now.” The waitress nodded and walked away. Fallon began to breathe more normally. We’ll be out of here in about ten minutes.
“Hi, Fallon.” The deep voice washed over her.
She glanced sideways, but she knew it was him before her gaze landed on his. A clean scent of soap and the breeze wafted around her. His blue jeans were tight around his corded legs, and his black muscle shirt molded against his ripped chest. The ink images were brighter in the sunlight and beckoned her to come in closer for a better look. Her head swirling, she propped her elbow on the table and cupped her face in her hand.
“I didn’t expect to see you in Alina. It’s a nice surprise.” His jean-clad thigh leaned against the table. He was dangerously close.
“Sylvia asked me to come with her,” she mumbled. Can I be any lamer? I wish I could just disappear.
“Hey there.” Sylvia’s cheerful voice was like an electric shock to Fallon’s nerves. “Why don’t you take a seat and join us for a bit? I was just ready to order a root beer.” She patted the space next to her.
“I think I will.” Diablo slid into the booth next to Fallon.
What the fuck? She scrambled to the far side of the booth, plastering herself against the wall.
Diablo chuckled. “I don’t bite, sweet pea.” Fallon glanced at Sylvia whose eyes were twinkling. “What’re you ladies doing in Alina?”
“We came to do some shopping. I bought a lot of nice things and Fallon bought a nice fragrance. She’s wearing it now. Do you like it?”
Sylvia… I could fucking kill you right now.
Diablo scooted closer to Fallon, then inhaled. “You smell real good.” His breath warmed her shoulder. “And you look real pretty today,” he whispered.
A shiver ran through her. She turned to him. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“I didn’t know you were a biker,” Sylvia said.
Diablo nodded. “I’m with the Night Rebels.” His eyes never left Fallon’s.
“You got some good-looking members sitting over there.” Sylvia picked up her root beer and took a sip.
“They come to the fights. Next time they’re there, I’ll introduce you. They like meeting new women.” He still held Fallon’s gaze.
“Did you want anything else?” the waitress asked. “I added in the root beer.”
“Anything else, Fallon?” Sylvia asked.
“No. We have to be going. It’s getting late.”
“You got some big plans for tonight?” Diablo said.
“Not really.” It was hard to concentrate with him being so close to her. She could feel his body heat emanating from him. It touched her and made her feel funny.
“Do you have a blue Harley?” Sylvia asked as she fished out an ice cube from her empty glass.
“Yeah.”
“I’ve seen it parked behind the warehouse. It’s an awesome bike. I bet it’s got a lot of power.” She licked her lips. Diablo laughed.
She’s flirting with him. And she’s doing it so easily. I wish I could do that. I should say something clever or funny. But she just sat tongue-tied beside him while Sylvia continued flirting with him. Then he touched her and her insides fell like she was free-falling. His hand was on her shoulder, scorching her.
“Do you wanna go for a quick spin on my Harley?” Once again his warm breath fell on her shoulder; it smelled of cinnamon.
“I’ve never been on a motorcycle. Maybe another time.”
“Why not go for just a quick ride? I’d love to do it, but I think Diablo wants you behind him, don’t you, sweetie?” She winked at him as he nodded. “Go on. Try something new. He knows what he’s doing. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
I really want to go. He’s so nice. “I don’t think I could get on very well.”
“I’ll help you on,” Diablo said. “I know you’ll love it. The first ride is the one that’ll hook you.”
She laughed. “I don’t know about that. Okay… I’ll do it.” A rush of adrenaline surged through her.
“Fuckin’ fantastic.” His arm around her, he squeezed her close to him. “You’re gonna love it,” he whispered in her ear, his lips brushing her earlobe.
Tingling, she nodded in agreement.
“Here’s your check. Pay at the cashier.” The waitress placed their bill down on the table.
Before either woman could pick it up, Diablo grabbed it.
“What’re you doing?” Fallon asked as she opened her purse.
“It’s my treat, ladies.” Diablo slid out of the booth.
“You don’t have to pay for us,” Fallon protested.
“Thank you very much,” Sylvia said, and threw a keep-your-mouth-shut look.
As they walked over to the cashier, several diners looked at Fallon’s pronounced limp. She turned to Diablo and asked, “Are you sure you still want to take me for a ride?”
A puzzled look crossed his face. “Yeah. Why the fuck wouldn’t I?”
A smile spread over hers. “I don’t know. Just checking.”
He moved her hair out of her eyes. “For the record, if I ask you to do something, I don’t change my mind.” She pressed her lips together and nodded.
After Diablo paid the bill, he escorted the ladies out back where Fallon saw a huge metallic blue motorcycle gleaming in the sun. “That’s yours? It’s so big.”
“Everything about me is big.” He threw his head back when Fallon’s cheeks reddened. “Come on over here and let me help you on.” She went over and in one fluid movement he lifted her up. She cried out. “You’re as light as bird. Did I hurt you?”
“No. I just didn’t expect that,” she replied as she settled on the black leather seat. He laughed and swung his leg over the seat. Instinctively, she curled her arms around his waist, surprised at how firm he was.
Looking behind her, he said, “Hold on, baby.” He winked and started the engine.
The bike rumbled beneath her and she could feel the power of its engine. Holding him tighter, she said to Sylvia, “I’ll meet you in front of the diner soon.” Sylvia waved and the bike roared down the alley.
At first she was a nervous wreck, thinking for sure she was going to fall off the bike, but as she gave in to its rhythms, she began to enjoy the ride. The wind blew through her hair and felt like it was carrying her on its currents. Without thinking, she rested her head against his broad back, loving the smell of leather and oil that permeated his vest. As houses rushed by, a sense of freedom took hold of her, and a smattering of disappointment sprinkled inside her when the diner came in sight. She’d wanted to keep riding, pressed against him, the wind carrying her away from the life she was living.
Sylvia, beaming, waved at her as they pulled up to the curb. “How was it?”
Diablo helped Fallon off the bike. “It was so cool. I liked it a lot,” she said.
“I can take you for a longer ride if you’d like. What’re you doing this Sunday?” Diablo asked.
“Sundays I work at the warehouse doing a bunch of chores.”
“But Jose can help you out so you get done faster. I can even pitch in so you’ll have the afternoon free.” Sylvia beamed.
Heat crept up her neck, spreading over her face and leaving red tracks in its wake. She looked down at the ground.
“Sounds like you’ll be free.” Diablo bent down low. “Do you want to get together this Sunday?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I can swing by the warehouse. There’re a lot of back roads that are great to ride on. I’ll be by at one o’clock. Will that work?” She nodded. “Give me your phone.” She handed it to him and he started tapping. “I put in my number. Call or text me anytime.”
“Okay.” She glanced at Sylvia. “We better head back. Thanks again for the ride.”
As they drove away from the diner, Fallon craned her neck to look in the passenger mirror at him. He stood there until they turned off Main Street. She leaned back and folded her hands on her stomach. Her body was shimmering like a sparkler on the Fourth of July. This is by far the best day I’ve ever had.
“He likes you,” Sylvia said.
“I think he’s just being nice because he works for my dad.” But I hope I’m wrong. I want him to like me. I’ve never met someone like him.
“No… that’s not it. He’s definitely into you. I could see it in his face. If any of the other girls find out, they’ll scratch your eyes out. Especially Emerald and Heidi. They’ve got the hots for him but he acts like he doesn’t know they exist. Don’t tell anyone about our day, okay? Even your dad. I mean, you can tell them we went shopping and had lunch, but don’t tell them about Diablo.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’ll spoil it.”
And she knew Sylvia was right. It seemed that whenever there was a glimmer of something special and good in her life, her dad always pissed on it. And now that Shanna was around, she made sure Fallon’s life was miserable. “I won’t breathe a word.”
Sylvia nodded and turned on the radio.
As the car rambled down the old highway, Fallon closed her eyes and relived the whole encounter with Diablo over and over in her mind. This is my memory. No one will ever be able to take it away from me.
A couple of miles from her house, her stomach started knotting up. She dreaded a confrontation with Shanna, and she didn’t want to hear her father’s words condemning her for her earlier behavior toward her step-bitch. She waved goodbye to Sylvia and slowly walked to her house. When she keyed in the code on the keypad outside the garage door, she breathed a sigh of relief as she walked into the empty garage. Her father and the bitch weren’t home.
She went up to her room and locked the door, then searched her phone for Diablo’s phone number. Looking at it made her smile. This was the first time she’d ever had a boy’s phone number. She held the phone against her chest and closed her eyes, the cool breeze reminding her how wonderful the ride had been. And holding him had been the best part of it.
I’ll never forget today. And no matter how awful Shanna or my dad are, I’ll always have today.
As she clutched her phone, sleep descended upon her.