Tate

I parked my bike in the drive, walked up the walk, and knocked on the door twice. After a moment, it opened.

“Well, hell’s bells,” Bobbi’s father said, peering over my shoulder and toward the bike. “Where’s Bobbi?”

“She’s at home.”

“Come in. What brings you?”

I stepped inside. “I wanted to personally invite you to something.”

“Want a cup of coffee?”

“Sure.”

He took off toward the kitchen. “I’m like you. I drink that shit all day. Always have a fresh pot going.”

I followed him to the kitchen and sat down. He poured two cups, handed me one, and then sat down. “So, what’s going on?”

“After we buried our buddy, most of us got to thinking about things, me included. Some of the fellas got life insurance policies, some upped their medical insurance, and some just went home and hugged their wife and kids. Our president, Crip, went to another extreme.”

“Everything okay?”

“Oh. Yeah. It’s fine. He’s been with his Ol’ Lady for some time, and a few days after Stretch’s funeral, he decided it was time to get married.”

He sipped his coffee. “So, they got hitched?”

“No, Sir. He asked for her hand in marriage.”

“They’re engaged?”

“As of now, yes.”

He pushed his cup to the side. “Before you go any further, I need to tell you something. If I don’t tell you now, I’ll damned sure forget it.”

“Okay.”

“Bobbi. I’ve never seen her happier. And, when I say never, I mean never. I don’t know what your intentions are, and I know nothings etched in stone, but I’d like to ask you if and when you let her go, let her down easy, will ya?”

I shook my head. “I’m not going to let her go.”

“That’s not an easy promise to make, and that’s not why I brought it up. I don’t expect an assurance, all I want is to make sure she doesn’t get hurt. She thinks the world of you, Tate. She really does. When a girl feels that way about a man, losing him is never easy. I’m asking that you make it as easy as you can.”

I pushed my coffee cup to the side and leaned against the edge of the table. “You wear hearing aids?”

“Not yet, why?”

“I was going to ask you to turn ‘em up.”

He chuckled. “Smart ass.”

“I’m not leaving her, Mr. Madden. Not now, not ever. If we split up, it’ll be because she gets sick of me.”

“Mr. Madden died twenty years ago. Call me James from here on out, will ya?”

“Okay, James.”

He reached for his coffee, took a sip, and then gave me a look of slight confusion. “Well. It sounds like you two are off on the right foot. Color me stupid, but did you stop by here to tell me your president is getting married? Is that the reason?”

“I wanted to make sure you got an invite from me to the wedding. I want to make sure you’re there.”

“Is it important to you that I come?”

“Very.”

“I’ll be there, then.”

“Want me to tell you when it is?”

“At some point, I suppose. When is it?”

“Two weeks from Saturday.”

“What time?”

‘Two o’clock.”

“I’ll be there.”

“I’d sure appreciate it.”

He finished his cup of coffee and then studied me. “You’re unique, Tate. I like that about you.”

“Unique? How?”

“Just from all I’ve learned about you. The TV, no sports, no internet. You’re an odd one for sure. Odd in a good way. And, I think you’re good for Bobbi. It makes me happy thinking you two might make it the distance.”

“We’ll make it the distance.”

He cocked his head to the side and gave me a look. “How can you be so sure?”

“When you know, you know,” I said. “And, I know.”

“You know what?”

“That she’s the one.”

“Most think they know. When I met Maddie, I knew. It wasn’t a week, or even a month. I knew on our first date. Asked her to marry me after four weeks.”

I laughed. “Four weeks?”

“Four.”

“If I wrote that in a book, I’d be crucified.”

His brow furrowed. “For what?”

“Insta-love.”

“What’s insta-love?”

“It’s when a couple falls in love instantly.”

“It wasn’t instant. It was a month.”

“A month’s instant in the book world,” I said.

He grabbed the empty cup and turned toward the coffee pot. “The book world is stupid as shit.”

I finished my cup of coffee and stood. “You’re right about that. A man ought to be able to tell the story the way it unravels, and people ought to accept it.”

“They damned sure ought to,” he said.

I handed him my empty cup. “But they don’t.”

“They’re horse’s asses. Tell ‘em to write their own damned books if they don’t like yours.”

“I wish I could,” I said. “Believe me.”

“You leaving?”

“I need to.”

He shook my hand. “Nice seeing you again, Tate.”

I tugged at the bottom of my kutte and gave a nod. “Nice seeing you, James.”

He poured a cup of coffee and turned to the side. “Working on anything yet?”

“Writing another right now.”

“Write what you want,” he said. “It’ll appeal to someone. You’ll just need to find ‘em.”

“That’s the trick. Finding them.”

“I’m just an old man, but it sure looks to me like you’re good at finding what it is you want.”

“I’m just stubborn. And, I’m a prick. I don’t take no for an answer.”

He raised his cup. “See you two weeks from Saturday, you stubborn prick.”

I grinned and gave a sharp nod. “See you then.”