Page 21 of Absolute Valor

Assuming he was the owner, I walked in his direction. “Hello, can you tell me how much these boots are?”

The grey haired man with the long beard to match, took a long look at the boots in my hand. “I’m sorry, Ma’am, but I don’t sell this particular brand of boots,” shaking his head as his eyes came back to meet mine. “My customers tend to be more of the back yard riders, not the doctor or lawyer variety.” He added sincerely.

Out of nowhere, the woman who couldn’t make up her mind slapped her hand over the box in my hand. “Where did you find these?” Her eyes, the size of saucers; her tiny frame vibrating like a cell phone on a counter. Without waiting for an answer, she turned to the man with the beard, “I’ll give you twice what she’s offering.” Clearly she has more money than brains and I’m about to put as much distance between us as possible. Taking a single step back, a hand lands on my shoulder, stopping me short and sending a chill up my spine. Daring a look over my shoulder, I find Priscilla’s smiling face at the end of the arm.

“Priscilla Morgan, I was coming to see you.” The crazy, excited lady spoke up from my left, the boots momentarily forgotten. “I wastelling Craven there are so many good deals around here today. How will I ever choose just one?”

Priscilla stepped between me and Mr. Gray beard. “Emmagene, Craven, so glad to see you both. I see you’ve found our Audrey. My son, Chase, you recall him, the one who was serving in the Marines?” Her voice changed from the confident and secure southern woman, to the ‘bless your heart’ version I’d heard her speak to only one other person, the one who tried to fool her middle child. “Anyway… he’s safe at home and has a growing business, and this gorgeous creature is his girlfriend.” I tried not to look like a gasping fish at her diversion tactics, the mark of a true lady and I didn’t want to mess up her smoke screen. Placing her arm around me with one hand, she slid the box out of my grasp with the other. “Chase had me grab these the last time I was in New York, visiting my middle son. You recall him? The computer genius. Well, he’s back home too. Got his own company and a young lady at his side.” She tosses her hair, admiring her family over her shoulder. “Well, let’s just say Dean and I will have a collection of beautiful grandbabies in no time.”

Emmagene tried to look with appreciation, yet from my angle, it looked more like she had some painful gas. “Oh, Priscilla, you cannot convince me your boys are old enough to be in serious relationships, much less having babies of their own.” Okay, I had to give it to Emmagene. While her name was unfortunate—something I would have imagined died with the plague—I had to high five her for the comeback.

A look passed between the ladies, something much deeper than shoes, clothes, or even who could have the prettiest grandchildren. A silent battle I wasn’t certain anyone would ever win.

“Craven, it would appear your beautiful wife here is growing weary of trying to decide between the gray and the purple duster jacket. It’s always been Dean’s practice to insist I purchase both and give the one I decided I don’t particularly look my best into someone who would appreciate it.” Where Priscilla may never win against Emmagene, she definitely had this fella’s number.

“Dean is a smart man who knows how to keep his wife happy. Something he no doubt has passed down to his sons.” Even I could feel the suction from the kiss to Priscilla’s ass. Evidently the upper crust wasn’t excluded from peer pressure either, since she pretty much guilted him into spending money.

“Make sure you visit the other booths before the run begins.” Priscilla added. There was a satisfied smile on her face as we watched the couple walk out of the tent, now two bags heavier and Craven’s credit card still smoking.

“Hello, Sam, I’m glad you could make this.” She looked back at the man with the beard.

“Awe, Mrs. Morgan. I wouldn’t dream of missing a chance to pay my respects to your Daddy. It was mighty nice of you to let us sell our stuff out here, too.”

Priscilla reached her hand out, taking Sam’s wrinkled one in hers. “Daddy would have loved this, everyone jumping in to help one another.”

Sam and Priscilla spoke of his new grandbaby and how his wife wanted to be here, but her daughter was still recovering from the delivery. They discussed how the new tow truck he had purchased was going to arrive in a little while. He asked how the boys were doing, how he heard from a few of his girls he checked on Chase was home from the service.

“Oh my word!” Priscilla yelped, her hand clutching the center of her chest. “Chase is looking everywhere for you, Audrey. He sent me over here to ask around.” Priscilla made Sam swear he would be over for dinner with his lovely wife as soon as she was back in town. “And bring pictures of the baby with you, my boys still haven’t figured out how to make me a granny yet.”

Priscilla grabbed my arm, tucking it around hers as we walked in a fast pace back to the front of the house. “The couple in the tent, Craven and Emmagene Callahan, she’s his third wife in ten years. Before she wore his ring and started spending his money, she worked as a shampoo girl in the salon my momma went to back in the day.” Priscilla gossiped as she waved to vendors and guests alike. “He sniffed around our front door back before I set eyes on Dean, but my Daddy warned me he was a scoundrel.” She whispered the last as if it were a dirty word. “Now he pays for a wife, a girlfriend he keeps and thinks Emmagene doesn’t know about, and two ex-wives who refuse to remarry until the man is dead and buried.”

Nearly everyone we passed wished her a good morning and wanted to stop to have a conversation. Just as we left Bertie, who was handing out coupons for her new hair salon, a strong male voice called out my name. Chase had changed from his Marine muscle shirt to the form fitting company logo shirt. The black contrasted with his tan skin and blue eyes, making them seem to pop off his face.

“Hey, Sweetness. Where’d you run off to?” I could have been honest and told him I wanted to attempt to pay for the boots myself, thus regaining the pride I once felt in providing for myself. I could have, but I didn’t.

“She was down there talking with Sam, shining her smile and getting Craven Callahan to spend money he doesn’t have.”

At the mention of Craven’s name, Dean leaned over as if the magic word had been spoken. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve questioned if Dean had a touch of jealousy. It was cute really; after all those years of marriage, he still had a burr in his craw for his wife’s ex-admirers.

“You know Sam is a bit of a hero himself.” Priscilla swiftly changed the subject. “He took a bad situation and made a world of good out of it.” Pulling at my shoulder, turning me back to face the driveway, which was lined on both sides by canopy tents. “All of the venders you see here, including the minister who will give the blessing, is in one way or another recovering from drugs or alcohol. The men who are driving the tow truck Sam mentioned, have recently spent time in the state prison. Sam gets them employment at various businesses. He was once a prison guard, but a bad decision cost him his job and nearly his wife and children.”

The tow truck had pulled in behind a growing row of bikes. Three men in safety gear smoked cigarettes in a small circle around the passenger side of the truck. “Is Dean okay with them being here? I mean the ex-cons?”

Chase wrapped an arm around me, “Who do you think represented them in court?”

“Quick, Chase, check her for an engagement ring. You know how Craven collects beautiful women, filling their heads with dreams of a jet setting life.” Dylan picks up my left hand, turning it several times in fun.

A loud voice behind me beckoned my attention; the crowd had grown into a sea of leather and denim. Sam stood on the back of another truck, an older model with rust along the edges and character in its aged design.

“On behalf of the Morgan family, without whom most of us probably wouldn’t be standing here, I’d like to welcome you. Forrest Van Buren was a man of honor and respect, a friend and sounding board. When needed, he could be the arms to provide comfort or the discipline you needed when you crossed him. Most of us still carry his words of wisdom and use them when we need to feel him surrounding us. I spoke with Priscilla earlier this mornin’, she and I agreed her Daddy would have loved this, all of his friends and family coming together to do something good for the community. The proceeds from today’s ride will help to rebuild the children’s park, one destroyed by the drug dealers who took it over a few years ago.”

Sam then asked everyone to bow their heads so he could say a prayer of safe travel. As my head was about to lower, I caught sight of a group of five girls, each dressed in a different bikini. The girl closest to me, a redhead with thick hair and a tattoo covering her entire left side, winked at the men behind me. I suspected Chase was the intended recipient. He must have looked at her as she winked and tossed a kiss in his direction. Sam finished his prayer, reminding everyone of all the safety measures the organizers had implemented. “See everyone at the end.”

People scattered like ants, wishing each other a good ride and collecting their partners. Miss Half Naked Red Head sat on the back of a huge bike, a much older man in the driver’s seat. The fruity smell of sunscreen floated in my direction, as the redhead’s friend applied the lotion to her chest, even taking several swipes over her cloth-covered nipple.

“I forgot to ask you if you’ve ever ridden?” Chase rounded on me, placing his back to the girls, hands on his hips and his eyes wide and bright. “It’s not a big deal, I can take it slow until you get a feel for it.” He was nodding toward the massive bike parked beside his truck. Normally, Chase rode in his massive truck or an incredibly sexy sport bike, its yellow paint reminding me of a confident man, one not fazed by anything.

“Actually, I have.” One of my neighbors growing up was a tattoo covered, single guy. Most of the older residents talked bad about him until they needed his help. When the other kids excluded me from riding bikes with them or playing in each other’s yards, he would encourage me to sit beside him and do little stuff to his bike or car. He shared how he had grown up much as I was, without many friends. He taught me how to start a bike and how to ride behind someone. When he felt comfortable, he came over to the house and asked my parents if he could take me for short rides. The boys in the neighborhood wanted to join us, but he told them no, saying only cool chicks like me could ride on his bike. One rainy afternoon, we sat on his porch and he told me if I studied really hard, he would take me on a cross-country trip for graduation. Right before Thanksgiving that year, he was killed in a car accident when a drunk driver crossed the median. “It’s been a few years, but I remember the rules.”

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