Page 66 of Road Queens
“My point is, we were naive idiots and worse. And you know it, Sidney.”
“What’s worse than ‘naive idiot’?”
“I ignored every lesson from my childhood, and Debbie Frank paid the price for that conceit.”
“My ass,” Sidney snapped. “You didn’t ignore every lesson from your admittedly fucked-up upbringing. You stood up to your dad how many times? And you did everything you could to get your mom out. Shit, how many times did you call the cops? How often did you pack a suitcase for Iris, only to have her unpack before your dad got home? Nothing that happened back then was your fault, just like this isn’t your fault either.”
Cassandra just looked at her. Amanda had no idea if any of this was working but crossed her fingers anyway.
“Your childhood is why we do what we do,” Sidney added. “And look how many we saved! Shit, I just got another box of orange-rosemary jam from Dinah.”
“Oooh, me too,” Amanda said. “Only mine was blueberry-thyme.”
“Dinah’s onto a brand-new life now. She’s happy now. And so are Barb and Roxy and Karen and Paul and Jill and a host of others. Because of us, because of Operation Starfish.”
Cass let out a snort. “Perfect example. I mean, Jesus, even the name! Operation Starfish? Pure childishness. Girls playing games based on an apocryphal story.”
“So you’re ignoring all the ones we helped so you can sulk over the one we didn’t?”
“Pretty much, Amanda.”
“But ... your bike?” Ditching the gear was troubling enough. Selling her Norton Commando? Unthinkable. No way.No waywas she going to take that drastic a step.
“Riding made me think I could do things I can’t. And I got you two sucked into my obsession. So why should I get to ride when Debbie never can?”
“By that argument, why should you get to go to the movies? Or go all in on a buffet? Why should you get to use two-ply toilet paper? Why not just live like a monk and eat newspapers for the rest of your life?”
“I—what?”
“What Sidney means is—”
“Donotfucking think you’re my translator, Amanda.”
“—how does hurting yourself help?” Amanda persisted. “Or solve anything?”
“It’s not about solving,” Cassandra muttered. “It’s about getting out. The way she should have and didn’t. The way my—”
“Yeah, it all comes back to that, doesn’t it?” Sidney asked.
“Very astute, Dr.Freud,” Cass snapped.
Amanda was still trying to grasp current events. “But you’ve wanted a bike forever. You started saving up when you were in, like, the third grade, for God’s sake. You spent years window shopping—it’s what got Sidney and me into motorcycles. And we love our bikes!”
“So?”
“So you opened up entirely new lifestyles for us. By accident, no less, which makes it cooler. Without you, we wouldn’t know a foot peg from a Fig Newton. And as much as we love our bikes, you love yours even more. Because you fought so hard and worked so long to get one. Like how I’ll feel about my bookstore once I get it up and running.”
“Yeah, about that. Give it up, Amanda.”
“Oh, charming. You had a bad day—”
“Not as bad as Debbie Frank.”
“—so everyone has to quit their dreams?”
“It’s too much for one person. And an independent bookstore in the age of Amazon? In a small town? Ridiculous and doomed to failure.”
Thank God she’s packed the knives. Though she’s a shitty packer, so I could probably find them without much trouble.“I know you’re upset,” Amanda replied through gritted teeth, “so I’ll pretend you didn’t just say what you just said.”
