When I showed up at Halley's parents' house on Friday night — promptly at six o'clock, when she'd told me to be there — I had my hands full. I'd brought flowers for Halley, of course — calla lilies, because Tiffany had told me they were her favorites. But then I'd also brought a bottle of wine for her parents because I figured that might sweeten them up to me a little. And then I'd brought a new coloring book for Cole because I didn't want him to feel left out and still didn't know what other kinds of toys he might be interested in. I'd almost brought him a truck instead, but then I wasn't sure which ones he already had and … I was making this whole thing into a bit of a headache for myself, honestly.
Cole answered the door, and he gave me a hug when I handed him the coloring book. “You're the best, Mr. Jake!” he told me. “Can you come color a picture with me?”
“Not right now, buddy,” I told him. “But maybe later, okay?”
“Okay!”
Linda, Halley's mom, was right on his heels, and she gave me a disapproving look as Cole skipped into the living room with his new book. She pulled me aside before I even made it into the kitchen to see Halley.
“Mrs. Talin,” I said, trying a winning smile and holding out the bottle of wine to her. “How are you? How was your trip?”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Look,” she said, her tone frosty. “I don't care how good you are with Cole or how nice you are to Halley. I raised her to be a good woman, and I'd like to raise Cole to be a good boy. Your influence in this situation would be disastrous.” She took a deep breath. “Now, I'm not going to kick you out tonight because Halley threatened to leave if I do. However, I do want to make sure that you're aware that neither George nor I want you to be here or want you anywhere near our grandson. Is that understood?”
“Mother,” Halley said, coming into the hallway and wiping her hands on her apron. She looked cute like that — especially with the smear of flour across her cheek — but at the moment, I was too busy processing what Linda had just said.
“Well, I have the right to say that, when he's a guest in my house,” Linda said, sniffing a little. “It's bad enough that you ended up ... like you did. I don't need to see that mistake repeat itself in another generation.”
“Ma'am, if Cole even so much as gets on a motorcycle before he's twenty-one, he'll have hell to pay,” I assured her. “I have a sensible car as well, and—”
“It's not about what kind of car you have,” Linda snapped. “You think I don't know what kinds of things you people get up to? Raping women and—”
“Mother!” Halley snapped, sounding shocked. She shot me an apologetic look. “We at least agreed that we were going to save talk like that for after dinner, didn't we?” she said pointedly. “Until after we had got Cole in bed for the night. I think it would be best if we remembered that.”
Linda looked like she might say something in response, but finally, she just shook her head. “I'm going to set the table,” she bit out.
“Thanks, Mom,” Halley said. She looked at me and exhaled noisily, making a face. “Can you believe her?” she said, but she looked a bit sheepish. I had a feeling that was exactly the reaction that she had expected. No wonder she hadn't been able to agree to marry me.
I held out the flowers to her, feeling uncertain. “Should I stay?” I asked. “I mean, they seem really upset to have me here. I know you said they would be upset, just … I didn't realize it would be like this.”
Halley sighed. “Sorry about that,” she said. “Look, I'm working on them — and reminding them that Cole really could use a dad around. I'd like for them to get to know you a bit. But it's up to you. If you want to leave, I'm not stopping you.” But there was something there in the way that she said it…
I sighed and shook my head. “All right, I'll stay,” I told her. “But we have our work cut out for us, I guess.”
“Can you help me in the kitchen?” Halley asked as the kitchen timer started going off. “I'm almost finished up with everything, but if you could cut up some onions and tomatoes and things for a salad, that would be great.”
“Sure,” I said, even though I hadn't really cooked in years. I guess that was part of being in a family, though. I smiled as I watched her buzz around the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the pasta she'd been making and then putting it out onto plates to serve.
“How's that salad coming?” she asked, and I startled, looking guiltily down at the half-chopped tomato in front of me.
“I got distracted,” I admitted sheepishly.
She laughed a little. “Jake, what am I going to do with you?” she asked.
“I can't help it!” I told her. “You're distracting!”
She laughed again and came to help me with the salad. As her mom came into the kitchen to get napkins for each of us, we were working shoulder to shoulder at the cutting board, with me working on the tomatoes and her working on the lettuce. And I could see the way Linda softened a little, watching us. Maybe that was the key to it: show her that I could take care of her daughter, that I could make Halley happy.
God knows she couldn't have been too happy around Brian.
When we sat down to the table, everyone linked hands, and Linda looked expectantly at me. I hurriedly joined hands with Halley on the one side and Cole on the other. “Jake, would you please say grace for us?” Linda asked sweetly once I had done so.
I swallowed hard and then nodded, bowing my head and closing my eyes. “Lord knows I'm not a religious man, and I don't really know what I'm doing here,” I said honestly. “But I do know that I'm blessed to be here with family, with this good meal in front of us — which looks absolutely amazing, Halley. And I'm grateful to Linda and George for allowing me to have this opportunity to be here in their home. Amen.”
Linda was staring thoughtfully at me when we all sat up and tucked in to eat, and I ducked my head a little, uncertain what that might mean. But when Halley squeezed my leg under the table and smiled encouragingly at me, I couldn't help smiling as well. It felt as though I had passed some sort of test, and I was pretty proud of it.
It was after dinner that the discussions really started, once Halley had put Cole to bed.
“So, what exactly do you do?” George started.
I glanced at Halley and then shrugged a little. “I own a bike shop,” I told him. “It's called Reaper Custom Choppers. You might have seen it; we've got a pretty good location.”
“So, you're a mechanic,” George said, looking unhappy about it.
“Partly,” I told him. “I also manage the books and all of the business aspects of it. I decide who to hire and who to fire, so I'm also the manager. And then, yes, I work on the bikes as a mechanic. I do a little bit of everything.”
“So why a bike shop?” Linda asked. “If you're that business-minded, why not start something where you have some real money coming in? You can't be making too much in that industry.”
“You'd be surprised how many people have bikes these days, even just as a hobby,” I told her. I grinned a little. “Like those guys with their mid-life crises who are out there on their driveways polishing their bikes every Saturday but who never actually go out on a ride? They bring their bikes in for lots of repairs.”
There was silence around the room at that, and my smile faltered. I shrugged a little.
“Well, what about this motorcycle club ... thing?” Linda asked. “I mean, I've seen on the news all sorts of horrible stories about those groups and the drugs and the thefts and ... well, just the other day, there was a horrible shoot-out in the middle of one of the highways and dozens of people were killed!”
I winced a little. “I'm president of my motorcycle club,” I told her, judiciously leaving out which motorcycle club that was in case the Devil's Route had been mentioned on TV. I hadn't been following the news stories because the more I could distance myself from all of that, the better. “But as president, I decide what we're involved in. And yes, there is some ... illegal stuff that goes on. But a lot of the killings that you see and things like that are just a form of vigilante justice. I can guarantee you that those people who were killed on the highway had done things that they weren't proud of.”
“And you agree with vigilante justice?” George asked, narrowing his eyes at me.
I shook my head because that was definitely not a subject that I really wanted to talk about with them. “That's not what I'm saying,” I told him, trying to figure out how to word this. “Look, Halley isn't going to be involved in all of that. And Cole certainly isn't going to be involved in all of that.”
“But if you're involved in it, how can they not be?” Linda asked. “What happens if one day you're just out for a ride on the highway and she gets a call that you're not coming home except in a bodybag?”
“Mom!” Halley said, but I think we both knew that with the events that had been happening recently, that hit a little too close to home.
“Ma'am, I can't promise that something like that isn't going to happen,” I admitted. “There are risks to being in a motorcycle club, sure. One of the benefits of my being president is that I won't be out there on raids with them. And most of the things that we do are pretty tame, things that the authorities know about but turn a blind eye on. They're regulated by the cops, of course, all of the drug trades and weapons dealings and everything else. It's not like we're just selling things to whoever we want. They're ... well, quasi-legal, I suppose.”
“And you're okay with this?” Linda asked Halley, giving her a disapproving look.
Halley twisted her fingers in mine. “Mom, I don't want to say this is my first choice. But it's a hell of a lot better than what I had with Brian. Jake's a good guy, and he'd do anything to save me. You have to know that. You have to see that about him.”
Linda stared at her daughter for a long moment. “I just have to wonder if maybe you're selling yourself short. I don't know if you think you won't get anything better since you have a seven-year-old son or if you actually think that you don't deserve better, but—”
“Mom, I don't deserve better than Jake,” Halley said firmly. “He's one of the best guys I've ever met. He takes care of me, and he'll take care of Cole. I firmly believe that.”
“Anyway,” I said quietly, staring at Linda. “There are other ways that someone might die. Even if I weren't involved in a motorcycle club, it's entirely possible that one day Halley would get the call that I wasn't coming home. If I were a soldier, would you be giving her this same lecture? Would you be telling me to stay away from your son?”
“If you were a soldier, we wouldn't have to worry about you ending up in jail!” George snapped.
I sighed. “Look, I don't know what you want me to say here, but I want to marry your daughter, and I'm not going to give up everything I am in the process. She accepts me, and Cole is … well, Cole is a sweet little kid who probably loves everyone who gives him coloring books.” I at least got a couple smiles with that one. “I'm going to do everything in my power to keep coming home to Halley and Cole every single night for the rest of my life. Because they're my family, just as much as my biker brothers are.”
There was silence in the room.
“I still don't like it,” Linda said.
“Neither do I,” George said slowly. “But at the same time … Linda, Halley is twenty-six years old, and she's been doing a damn good job raising her son for the past seven years. I don't think she'd be doing this if she didn't think it was the right thing for Cole.”
Halley smiled a little. “Thanks, Dad,” she said.
“I'm not done yet,” George said. He fixed a serious look on her. “You may think that because you're a biker dude that my threats don't really mean anything, but I also will do anything for my family. If I hear you ever treated Halley like her ex-husband did, you can rest assured—”
“I will never do anything like that to her,” I swore.
George shrugged a little. “Then I guess we have no issue.” He stood up and held out his hand to his wife, and although it looked like Linda still had more that she wanted to say, the two of them retreated upstairs.