Chapter Two
Cole
I stood at the end of the driveway, watching as Declan proudly rode his little 16-inch bike without training wheels. I was trying to appear more awake than I felt. We lived on a quiet street, so he was weaving from one side to the other, pedaling wildly, a grin on his face.
“Lookin’ good, buddy!” I shouted as he turned a 180 and came zooming back toward me. It was Saturday morning, bright and sunny, the air warm with a refreshing breeze. Declan and I had been up since 7, and I tried not to start thinking about past weekends, years ago, when I’d sleep in until sometimes 10 or 11. I couldn’t remember the last time that I’d slept in that late.
Declan came to a wobbly stop in front of me, sliding off his seat first though, and putting his foot down.
“See, Dad?” he said. “I did it the right way.”
“You did,” I said. “And you look great. Uncle Ben will be here later, and he’s going to think it’s about the coolest thing ever to see you riding your bike. Did you know there are some 4-year-olds that have never even ridden on a bike before, never mind ride one without training wheels?”
He nodded. “Maybe I can help them,” he said.
I smiled. He was always so willing to help other kids. “That’d be nice of you. You’d be a good teacher.”
He looked past me, toward Allie’s house. “Like Miss Allie,” he said. “She’s a really good teacher. Hey, can I go over and show her how I can ride my bike?”
I glanced over my shoulder. Her car was parked in the driveway, but the front door wasn’t open, and there didn’t seem to be any signs of life indoors. I imagined her slumbering peacefully, no alarm set, waking up whenever her body decided it was time to.
“Maybe not yet, bud,” I said. “It’s still on the earlier side. If we see Allie out later, you can show her.”
“Will you ride your bike with me?”
“Sure,” I said. I went into the garage and got my bike off the stand. I’d been a pretty serious road cyclist since high school, though that had definitely taken a back seat since Declan had arrived. I didn’t bother to put my cycling shoes on or a helmet; I just swung my leg over the top tube, settled myself into the saddle, and remembered how glorious it used to feel to wake up late, throw on my kit, hop on the bike, and ride for 80, 90 miles.
It was a little torturous, being on the bike but not being able to just ride in the drops, pedaling as hard as I could just to get into that zone where it felt like you could go on forever. It almost felt as though the bike—a carbon Domane—was quivering underneath me, like a Thoroughbred on Derby day that was being held back while all his brethren raced onward without him.
Declan pedaled after me, his legs going three times as fast as mine. I coasted, letting him catch up.
We rode to the end of the street and then back, and as we approached the driveway, I saw that Allie had just walked out the front door toward her car. Declan saw her, too, and swerved right in front of me. I braked hard, almost endo’d, but since I wasn’t clipped in, ended up sliding off the saddle and smashing my balls right against the top tube. The word FUCK reverberated through my head as I gritted my teeth and tried to keep from falling to the ground and curling up in the fetal position. It didn’t seem that Declan or Allie was aware of the agony I was in, so I tried to pretend that everything was perfectly fine and I didn’t feel like I was suddenly going to hurl that morning’s coffee all over the side of the road.
I gingerly got off the bike and walked it into the front yard, leaning it up against one of the red maples. Declan was showing Allie how he fast he could go, and Allie had a big smile on her face as he pedaled.
“He’s doing great,” she said when I limped over. She tilted her head to the side. “You okay?”
“Superb,” I said, trying to ignore the wave of nausea that washed over me.
“Not too many 4-year-olds could ride a bike like that. I’m very impressed, Declan!” she called.
He grinned and came to a stop in front of us. “Do you have a bike?”
“No. I used to when I lived in the city, but I gave it to my friend.”
“Oh.” Declan looked disappointed. “Do you think maybe she’d let you borrow it some time? Then we could all go for a bike ride together.”
“This is a very nice area for biking,” I said. “Especially now and then again in the fall.”
“Maybe I’ll buy a new bike,” Allie said. “This does seem like a good place to go bike riding. I like to go running, but I wouldn’t mind having a bike again, either.”
Declan started smiling again and then pushed off, riding back toward the end of the road. Allie watched him go.
“He okay by himself?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “He knows to turn around at the end of the road. This is a pretty quiet road, if you hadn’t noticed already yet.”
“I like it,” she said. “I like that it’s actually quiet at night, and that in the morning, I get woken up by the birds and not some taxi honking or someone’s car alarm going off.”
“You’re from the city?”
“Boston.”
I nodded. “That’s cool. I went to BU. I rather liked living in the city, though it could definitely get tiresome.”
“I’m not saying I’ll never go back,” she said, “but I grew up there, so I was definitely ready for a change of pace. Anyway, I’ve got to run or I’m going to be late for my dentist appointment.” She waved to Declan, who pedaled furiously back over.
“You’re leaving?” he asked.
“I’ve got a dentist appointment to go to. Got to make sure that my teeth are nice and healthy.” She smiled, showing him a nice row of white teeth. “But maybe I’ll see you later on, okay? Good job riding the bike.”
Many hours later, my best friend, Ben, came over. He, no doubt, had slept in, consumed copious amounts of coffee, and probably dicked around on the Internet for a while before finally deciding to get his day started. He strolled in right at I was coming downstairs from putting Declan down for his nap.
“This will probably be the last summer he takes a nap,” I said, feeling a twinge of regret. I’d gotten used to having an hour to myself in the middle of the day.
Ben yawned. “I could go for a nap.”
“Didn’t you just get up?”
“Nah, I’ve been up for hours. Went for a ride this morning on the Yeti, got some breakfast, came back home, rode the Merlin over here.”
“So you’ve gone on two rides today.”
“Guess so. I should be tired.” He yawned again and stretched, and I tried to swallow that benign envy that here it was, early afternoon, and he’d already been out twice.
“Damn, dude,” he said suddenly. He was looking out the side door, toward Allie’s house. “That’s your neighbor? I was expecting some old hag. She’s fine.”
“We just met her the other day,” I said. “Her name’s Allie. Declan took a real shine to her.”
“She single?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t ask.”
“I don’t even care if she wasn’t—I’d hit that shit regardless.”
Ben and I had been friends since we were kids, and though we were in our early 30s now, his attitude hadn’t changed much since we were 18. A point of pride for him.
“Let’s not make a bad first impression, okay? I’m the one who has to live next to her.”
“Bad first impression? Moi? I don’t think so. What do you know about her?”
“Not much. She’s a teacher at Declan’s school.”
“Ooh, so she’s a teacher. So she’s smart and shit. I’m going to go proposition her.”
He was out of the house in a flash, before I could even say anything. I watched through the window as he strolled into her yard. Allie sat up from the weeding and brushed her hands off on her shorts. She was wearing a T-shirt and a pair of running shorts, showing off those long, muscular legs of hers. The window was open, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying, no matter how hard I strained. Ben’s back was to me, and he was partially blocking Allie’s face, though it looked like they were having a conversation of sorts. She had a smile on her face, I could see that much, and then it looked like she was laughing at something he said. It occurred to me, suddenly, that perhaps she would say yes, and they’d end up sleeping together. This was more bothersome to me than I’d been expecting, and when Ben finally made his way back, I was expecting the worst. His expression wasn’t really telling me either way.
He turned the brim of his Red Sox cap so it was backward. “Well...” he said, and then he paused, letting the moment draw out. Bastard.
“So how’d it go?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Denied,” he said. “She sure is hot. She was cool about it, though. Said she wasn’t really looking to get in a relationship right now.” He laughed. “Not that I was asking about a relationship. I told her I didn’t want to be anyone’s boyfriend, either!”
“Classy,” I said.
Ben and I retreated to the garage, and he worked on my mountain bike for a little bit. The drivetrain would need to be replaced soon, but he thought it looked like I could get another couple hundred miles out of it first. When Declan woke up, we all piled into my car and went to Moose Lake. The water was still on the cold side this time of year, but I liked that; it felt refreshing.
I had moved here to Chapin right after Declan’s first birthday, about a two-hour drive from the coastal town I’d grown up in, where my parents still lived. How had I picked Chapin? I’d gotten a call from one of my former professors at Boston University, and she told me a friend of hers who worked at a clinic in rural Maine was going to be moving to California soon and was actively looking to hire a replacement, as opposed to shutting the clinic. When I had first started my residency, I’d had these grand ideas in my head, a busy urban office, sleek décor, half a dozen colleagues, maybe some sort of specialized medicine. But then, you know, life happened, and I decided to take a chance and move to Chapin.
It was going better than I expected; I liked working in a small-town. I liked getting to know the people and being able to spend more than five minutes with them. What I hadn’t been expecting was Ben to move, too, but he did, some six months later, saying that he wanted a change of scenery, even though all he was really trading was the ocean of eastern Maine for the mountains in the western foothills.
Whatever his motives were, I was grateful he had done so. I had some other parent acquaintances, but no real friends. There were also very few other dads at the playground; most often it would be me, pushing Declan in the swing or chasing him down the plastic slide, with a gaggle of mothers all sitting together, gossiping at a picnic table, while their children played. The teachers at Declan’s school were always kind, but again, I was one of very few guys who was doing the daily drop-off/pick-up duty.
It wasn’t at all the way I thought things were going to have worked out, but this was the reality now, and there was nothing I could do to change that. It was easy to think back to mistakes that had been made and how things could have been done differently, but what was the point? There was no way to take certain things back, and you just had to deal with the choices you had made.