Page 34 of Carver
I’m a damn good gardener. I’ll plant flowers anywhere, anytime for him. “I love you too, Dominic.” I whisper the words back when I tilt my face, giving them to him and him alone.
If Dravin hears, because sound travels out in the quiet here, he’d never say so. My brother has this saying about a single person being good people. It drives my mom insane. But Dravin is. He’s good people. Without him and without the club, I have a feeling that none of this would be possible, and I’m so, so thankful that it is.
Chapter 9
Carver
Bronte told me about Dravin’s horde comment. I can’t think of a better descriptor for the chaos that has invaded this small blue house on a quiet, unassuming street.
The neighborhood is great. I went with Dravin last week to see the house, as soon as he and Kael got the keys for their new place. It was already empty, so they got immediate possession. Even though Dravin is busy with the club, they’ve been moving things over slowly, one carload or truckload at a time. The club bought most of the furniture for the house when Kael moved in. Even though it wasn’t that long ago, she was adamant that they let her buy it. She wanted us to have the fresh start we deserved, and that meant picking out things that were meaningful to us.
When Dravin brought me over last week to take a look at the house and yard, Kael told me that they were definitely taking the bed, because no one wants to sleep where other people have alreadyslept. Ornotslept. She laughed as she said it, promising me that she’d give the rest of the house a deep cleaning too. And then Dravin walked over and covered her mouth so no further inappropriate words could cross her lips.
Dravin wanted me to make sure the house would suit. He promised that we could look for something else and get it figured out if we didn’t like it.
I know I can’t make anything perfect, but this is our first placetogether. We’re finally starting our lives. Restarting? Resuming?
I’ve lost track of Bronte. She has Elowen with her, or one of the old ladies is taking a turn, but there are so many people crammed into the house that they’re spilling over into the backyard and even the front.
Bronte’s old truck is parked in the back in the single parking space by the small garage. She arrived at ten this morning. The street was already lined with bikes and vehicles. I’d feel the need to apologize to the neighbors for the noise and craziness, if they weren’t already used to all sorts of bikes coming and going already.
Dravin drove me over at seven this morning. Kael had the house spotless. She took Dravin’s tinted out black car and picked up breakfast for us. I thought I was far too nervous to eat anything, but Kael insisted.
Tyrant and his old lady, Lark, were the first to show up. It’s midweek, so they got here right after sending their daughter off to school. Raiden and his wife, Ella, pulled in right after them, both riding their own bikes. It’s just about that time where the weather could turn, so everyone is trying to squeeze out as much riding time as they can.
After that, I basically lost track of who was arriving and when. People just started showing up, dropping in with items for inside the house and out. You can’t have a big gathering of people without having a cookout, so a grill was set up and food started appearing like magic, getting laid out on the new patio set that also arrived and was unboxed.
Atlas and Willa came last, pulling their enclosed trailer full of new furniture.
I also had to ask Bronte for a list of things she needed and liked. I didn’t want to do it, but Dravin informed me that if I didn’t give him the details, the house would be filled up all the same, so I might as well get Bronte what she liked.
She was overwhelmed with the whole thing. The only thing she truly needed was a crib. Anything else would just be a much appreciated blessing. I know that Bronte loves her parents’ old farmhouse and all the antiques, so I passed that along to Dravin. He laughed and said that Willa would definitely have us covered. The club would cover the bill.
Willa’s sister showed up with the truck and trailer, and Lynette’s man, Bullet, rode up behind them.
Crow owns the house, but he’s tattooing and his old lady, Tarynn, had appointments at her salon that she couldn’t move.
Wizard stayed back at the clubhouse to do security, along with some of the prospects, but it seems like everyone else is either here right now, has been here, or will be here.
“It’s a lot for a little wartime house, but they’re getting it all sorted.” Dravin’s voice startles me out of my thoughts. I found a space in the front yard, standing by the chest high hedges overlooking the sidewalk and the street, that at least for the moment, is dead quiet.
“I think they’ve had it sorted for a while. Bronte’s truck was emptied out the second she got here.”
“It’s overwhelming, I know.”
“No, it’s incredible.” Smoke from the grill in the backyard drifts around the side of the house, the smell of burgers and sausages. “I don’t know any other group of people anywhere who would come together to give two virtual strangers all of… this. The excitement and happiness that Bronte deserves. It’s not just moving furniture or getting us squared away. It feels like people are really glad to have us here.”
Dravin’s suited up in his usual leather and denim combo. The rest of the men here subscribe to some version of that uniform. I’m quite out of place in my worn wool plaid. Veryfarm boy comes to the city,even if my family never farmed jack shit.
“How are you doing? A bunch of extroverts descending into one small area can be a lot for an introvert to handle.”
“It doesn’t matter how I feel. Bronte’s smiles and laughter all morning are worth any amount of discomfort. We’re both still in awe that this is happening. She was worried about Elowen being a little bit off with a change of routine, but the few times I’ve seen my daughter this morning, she’s been all smiles and giggles.”
“Every single person here is doting on her and not just the women. There’s something about a little baby that turns even the hardest baddie into a softie.”
“Where are Decay and Grave?” The former Canadian twins rolled up in a giant lifted truck with exhaust loud enough to rival any bike, and they haven’t stopped trying to outdo each other in flexing competitions all morning. If they were just flexing their muscles, that would be obnoxious enough, but they seem to be a constant competition to see who can be louder.
“Grave is manning the grill and Decay is… uh… walking around being Decay.”
