Listening to Josie provide the play-by-play of Noah’s game really struck a chord with me. I should be there and the fact that Josie didn’t hound me about it tells me two things: I either have the best fucking wife in the world or she’s accepted the fact that this is our life. I know it’s a combination of the two and right now I’m feeling like I don’t deserve to be her husband.
I walk the streets, not worrying whether anyone will see me. Aside from the images of Layla, nothing else has been in the press. I stop dead in my tracks when I think about those images. I’m a selfish prick for not telling Josie about them. She’s got too much on her plate right now – that’s the ridiculous excuse I’m going to use to justify my actions until I can grow a set and tell her. My hesitation is because I’m not prepared for her response. Telling her that the images don’t mean anything won’t be enough to keep her thoughts at bay. I know she trusts me, but she doesn’t trust Los Angeles. Not that I can blame her. This town is already trying to ruin our relationship.
As soon as I turn the corner, I’m facing the Ducati dealership - the same one I bought from long before I left Los Angeles. Now, my motorcycle sits in my garage, coming out only occasionally. Standing here, I realize how much I miss riding my bike.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”
A salesman appears to the side of me. He’s dressed in a suit and is eyeing my distressed jeans and designer shirt with strategic holes in it.
“She is.” The thought occurs to me that I need an escape while I’m here and this just might be it. “Do you have rentals?”
The salesman puts his hands in his pockets and pretends to ponder my question. I know they do, but he’s looking at me, wondering if I can afford to rent one of their bikes. He can’t tell that my shirt cost over a hundred bucks and my jeans twice that. He looks behind me, noticing that there isn’t a car parked in front of his store and is likely wondering how I got here.
“So about that rental?”
“Yeah, I mean if we have the loaners in stock, we can.” This is his way of brushing me off. We’ll go inside and he’ll sit behind his computer and type, likely sending a message to his manager, telling him that some bum wants to rent a Ducati. The manager will come out, pretending he doesn’t have an idea of why I’m here. It’s a game and I’ve played it before.
He doesn’t say anything as we walk into the dealership. The smell of new rubber permeates through the air. These bikes have very few, if any, miles at all. It’s been so long since I’ve paid attention to what new bikes are coming out and I’m surprised by the difference in the new Scrambler. It’s all Ducati, but with a motor cross feel. The back roads of Beaumont would be like heaven on this bike.
“She’s new, just came out. If you’re into just cruising along or know of any dirt roads, that’s the bike you want. However, she’s slow with only seventy-five horsepower.”
The all black bike with yellow accents is easy on the eyes. I could definitely see teaching Noah how to ride something like this.
“What’s the price?”
“Oh, huh…” he scratches his head. “She’s just under ten thousand.”
Ten thousand is nothing, but I didn’t plan on spending money on something so frivolous. I’m already worried about making sure the money I do have continues to grow even when the music stops. I could be faced with paying two college bills if either boy doesn’t receive a scholarship. I’m fully expecting Noah to receive one, but he could change his mind about sports and chose a different path.
“I’ll take it,” I tell him without second-guessing myself. I know I don’t need it and I know that I’m contradicting every reasonable thought flooding my mind, but I’ll just have to add it to the list of things I need to tell Josie about. Fuck, if that list isn’t getting long.
The salesman looks at me like I have two heads. I probably do. I pull out my wallet and hand him my credit card. He takes it, looking at the name and back at me.
“I’ll just…” he points his thumb over his shoulder. He’s nervous and probably hoping that I don’t say anything about his poor sales technique to his manager.
“I’ll need a helmet too, please.”
“Right away, Mr. Page.”
I can’t help but smile as he rushes to his cubicle. Others linger around, a few of them whispering. It’ll be exciting if someone comes up to ask for my autograph. It’ll make me feel like I matter again. I sit down on my bike, getting a feel for how she feels between my legs. She’s smaller and lighter than the one I have at home, but I have a feeling this one will be ridden more. I’ll even teach Josie how to ride it. This will be perfect for her.
A flash gets my attention, and when I look up, I see one of the young saleswomen quickly typing on her phone as she turns away from me. My heart drops, knowing that my image is about to hit social media. I won’t have to tell Josie what I’m doing because this chick just did it for me.
“Hey,” I call out, stopping her dead in her tracks. “What did you say when you posted my picture?”
“I… I didn’t.”