Page 16 of Pumpkin
That begged the question whowasthe one.
Social settings weren’t easy for Calliope. She got overwhelmed easily by the emotions of those around her, as well as an influx of visions. It was hard to make friends when she automatically knew someone’s intentions towards her, and more often than not, those intentions had to do with wanting the local witch to tell them the winning lottery numbers.
Somehow Calliope had placed herself perfectly on that bench where the biker wouldn’t see her due to the perfectly timed truck. So she was definitely watching the biker. Dosia just wasn’t sure why.
Figuring that out, though, did not help Dosia solve her own crisis. She felt like she needed a daisy to play a twist on the childish game ofhe loved me, he loves me not. Only her version would bestayorgo.
She trusted Calliope’s intuition more than she did aMagic 8 Ball. Maybe she should have Calliope read her tarot. She hadn’t done that since Dosia was pregnant with JJ. Or maybe she should have Grandma Solstice do it.
Either way, sitting on a bench across from a bakery did Dosia no good.
Standing up, she headed towards the bookstore. Dosia would do anything to protect her daughter. JJ was her world. But was Callioperight? Was she making assumptions based on her own fears and experiences without giving this town, her new life, a chance? What if shewaskeeping herself from being happy? What if her instinct to leave was wrong?
Stopping in front of the bookstore, Dosia looked up at the old wood sign. A sign her ancestors had carved generations ago. Was she giving up her dream in a fruitless attempt to protect her daughter? If Calliope was right—and she usually was—then Vodka didn’t even remember Dosia. Probably no more than Dosia actually remembered him from that night. Her clearer memory was of watching him through that bar window.
Calliope was so happy to be opening her store. Could Dosia really take that away from her? Was she being more than selfish? What if her fears were actually nothing? Who was to say that Vodka even wanted anything to do with his daughter? The man had a wife and a baby already. He likely wouldn’t want anything to mess that up. And weren’t biker ol’ ladies extremely possessive? Dosia didn’t want that drama. She was doing all this toavoiddrama.
The bookstore was finally hers. She had to give this life a chance. Calliope claimed it would bring her peace by staying. If she hid in the bookstore and rarely went into town, kept JJ at school or at her grandparents’, then maybe this could work. A biker would never be caught dead in a bookstore, anyway. It would be tricky, but hopefully worth it in the end.
And if Vodka did try to take her daughter away from her? Well, it would be the last thing he ever did. Dosia would do anything to keep her daughter safe. Including facing down a massive biker easily twice her size.
The first Churchmeeting the club held since Pumpkin’s return took place on the main floor. Pumpkin wasn’t entirely thrilled about this, because he knew he was the reason why even though the officers were claiming that the Chapel on the second floor was being fumigated. Hewondered when the club was going to stop walking on eggshells around him.
So far, he’d been able to get his club brothers to paint his house a godawful yellow, install solar panels on his roof, and build SJ a bigger playset, as well as finish the sandbox that had been delayed. Additionally, he’d been able to get away with some pretty weird shit. First, there was the wheelchair race. Then he purposefully started farting every time there was a club member around, and not a single word had been said to him. He also bought aGeorge Clooney Manscaping Kit. Pumpkin simultaneously ‘forgot’ to change the shipping address to his new house and ‘accidentally’ removed his name from the package. When it was delivered to the clubhouse, one of the brothers thought it was a delivery for the club itself and had opened the box. Then the magazine subscriptions forEmus of Today and Tomorrowarrived, along withGirls and Corpses, Objectophilia Todaywith a featured article calledHow to Ensure Your Object Lover is Getting Pleasure Too, andElevator World.
And they’d said nothing. Each day, someone collected the magazines from the clubhouse mailbox and delivered them to Pumpkin’s house with a straight face.
He wondered if ordering supplies to build an underground bomb shelter would finally make someone say something.
Steel called the meeting to order. He was sitting at the bar with Lucky and Bulldog next to him. Everyone else, including the remaining officers, were randomly spread out throughout the room. Since the prospects were not allowed in Church yet, they were guarding the front and back doors to ensure no one interrupted the meeting. Pumpkin had walked to the clubhouse—mind, at the pace of a snail—but he’d done it. Yet, upon his arrival, the couch had been cleared for him and no one commented on the fact that he was nearly fifteen minutes late.
There was a good possibility the club would let him get away with murder right then.
“We have two important topics to cover this morning. Since one will take longer than the other, we’re going to discuss it last. Demo,Jumper, if you’d start us off with the reading of the treasury report and the last meeting’s minutes.”
Since Pumpkin hadn’t been at the last meeting, or any Church meeting for the past five months, he listened intently as Jumper and Demo spoke. He was impressed with the difference in Jumper. Normally the quiet brother was Secretary in title only. Demo covered a lot of Jumper’s responsibilities, including reading the last meeting’s minutes. Jumper had severe PTSD from his time in the SEALs, and at times, spaced out. Jumper reading the minutes was a big improvement, and Pumpkin didn’t doubt that it was all Jasmine’s influence. It really sucked that their wedding had been ruined by Pumpkin’s hospitalization and Scar’s assumed death, but Pumpkin could also understand how those two tragedies could ruin the celebratory mood.
Steel nodded to both officers when they were done with their reports. “Thank you. Now, on to business. All of you are aware that the ol’ ladies are helping to organize the town’s Fall Festival this year. It’s the Saturday before Halloween andall of youare expected to attend, help setup and cleanup,andprovide security should Carlos need it.”
Lucky cleared his throat. “Our women have decided to change the main charity event.”
“What no pie eating contest?” Cage demanded, his face horrified. “I’ve been practicing!”
“Eating a slice of pie every night is not ‘practicing’,” Angel snapped at her husband.
He waggled his eyebrows at her. “That wasn’t the sort of pie I’ve been practicing on.”
Angel slapped his arm, her cheeks flushing. From the heat in her eyes, though, it wasn’t from embarrassment.
“Children,” Steel scolded. “To answer your initial question, Cage, no, there will not be a pie eating contest this year. Instead, they’re doing a Bachelor Auction.”
The single men in the room, including Pumpkin, all sat up straighter. “I’m sorry, what?” Grumpy asked.
“Don’t worry,” Bear threw in. “It’s not just you guys.Allof us have been volunteered.”
Pumpkin exchanged a look with Ranger, who was sitting next to him. “And your wives are okay with that?”
“There’s a loophole for those of us who are married,” Lucky explained. “Rather than a date, we can auction off four hours of our time to do yard work, housework, hell, grocery shopping… Whatever it is that the bidderplatonicallyneeds.”
