Page 23 of Ember
“Just take it and use it for whatever you need. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you when you were growing up or when your mother died. I was sorry to read about her passing in your letter.” Yeah, that was a shitty way of telling him about her mother’s death, but at the time, she was bitter and wanted answers.
“I don’t need anything from you,” she insisted.
He tossed the envelope onto the table in front of her and stood. “Just take it, kid. I’m loaded now, and well, what I have will belong to you and Ember someday anyway. Let me do a little bit to help you now. My number is in there, too, if you’re interested in getting to know me. I’ll leave that up to you, though.” He grabbed his bike helmet and walked to the front door. Lillith turned to watch him leave, not taking her eyes off the man who claimed to be her father. She knew the truth—he was, but it was easier to pretend that there was still some kind of question surrounding their relationship or lack thereof.
She waited until he got on his bike and rode down the road before grabbing the white envelope from the table. She pulled out what had to be thousands of dollars and gasped. Lillith was sure that she had never seen so much money before in her life—let alone hold it in her hands.
“Wow, now that’s a nice tip,” Jenna said. Lillith stood and quickly shoved the money back into the envelope. “Can you handle the rest of the day alone?” she asked.
Jenna looked around at all the empty tables and nodded. “Yeah, I think I can handle this big crowd,” she teased. “Why, did you just remember that you have somewhere you need to be now?” she asked.
“Actually, yes,” Lillith said. “I’m going to New York to meet my sister.” She took off her apron and name tag, tossing both onto the counter. “Tell Sandy that I quit,” she said on her way out the door. She wasn’t sure if she was going to count her little visit from her father as a lucky break or not, but she knew never to look a gift horse in the mouth—and she wasn’t going to start now.
Tank
Tank walked into the little church and was surprised to find it full of women. What the hell kind of church had he just stumbled into? “Um, am I late for the service?” he asked. The women turned to look back at him, and when they broke out into a chorus of laughter, he knew that he had misread the room.
“This isn’t a church,” a woman with bright red hair said from the front of the room. The rest of the women surrounded her, and he was pretty sure that she was their “leader”.
“It’s not?” he asked, looking around. There were no pews—well, except one that sat against the back wall. It was lined with motorcycle helmets, and he wondered what that was about.
“It used to be, but now it’s our club,” the woman explained.
“You mean club like in the Little Rascals?” he asked. God, he loved that show when he was a kid. He and his grandpa would watch it in reruns on Sundays after church. They all stared blankly back at him. “You know, the He-man Woman Hater’s Club?” he asked. Still, crickets until one dark-haired woman cleared her throat and stood, turning to face the redhead.
“How about I talk to him so that you can get on with church?” she asked.
“Thanks, Lillith,” the redhead said.
The dark-haired beauty almost skipped back to him, and he thought for sure that he was seeing an angel. God, she was gorgeous. Maybe it had been too long since he had last been with a woman, but there was something about this one that made his mouth gape open, and if he wasn’t mistaken, a little drool escaped.
“I’m Lillith,” she said, holding out her hand.
“Um, Tank,” he croaked, taking her hand into his own but not shaking it. “Did you just say that your redheaded friend was going to get on with church?”
“Yeah,” she said, looking back at the other woman. “And she’s my sister. Her name is Ember. She’s our club’s Prez.”
He was feeling more confused by the second with pretty little Lillith. “So, this is a church then?” he asked.
She giggled and shook her head. “Um, you’re still holding my hand,” she reminded.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, releasing it as though it had burned his skin.
“And it’s not the kind of church you’re looking for,” she insisted. “At least, I’m pretty sure that you’re not looking for an all-women’s biker club, right?”
He smiled and shook his head. “No, but that explains the line of bike helmets back on the pew.” He nodded to the back of the room, and she giggled again. God, the sound of her laughter was magical.
“So, can I maybe give you directions to another church in the area?” she asked.
“Do you know of any?” he said. “Preferably Catholic, but it’s not a deal breaker if it’s not.”
“Well, I didn’t have you pegged as a Catholic boy,” she teased.
“I don’t know if I’d call myself that either, but I was raised in a Catholic church by my grandfather. I was hoping to light a candle for him today. It’s been a year since he passed, and I just wanted to remember him.” Tank wasn’t sure why he was telling a complete stranger about his upbringing, but here he was, probably boring the poor woman to death.
“That’s incredibly sweet,” she said, covering her hand over her heart. “I’m sorry about your grandfather.”
“Thanks,” Tank said, “he raised me, so I’m sorry that he’s gone too. I’ve been alone ever since, and kind of wandering around the country, trying to find a place.”
