But it felt good.
Then Tack fisted his hand in the back of his shirt and held him there as he said low and gravelly in his ear, “I knew it, brothers knew it. We wanted you with us because we wanted you with us. But Hop and Boz said straight out, you had the talent to take Ride to the next level. You did, and you didn’t fuck around doin’ that.” He pulled back but didn’t let go as he looked Joker in the eyes. “This is good seein’ as my woman’s baby crazy, and I reckon by the time we’re done I’ll be forkin’ out about twelve college tuitions.” He grinned big. “And you’re gonna make it so I can afford that.”
Joker could say nothing. Taking in the look on Tack’s face, gratification, pride, respect, feeling all Tack just gave him, his mind couldn’t bring up words.
Luckily, at this juncture, Cherry butted in.
“After Cut turned up the oven when I was cooking brownies and incinerated them and the pan they were in, I’ve decided I don’t want another child, because I may not cook often but my husband’s good at it and I like shoes, not to have to buy new kitchen items every other week. In other words, since we have our hands full, I’m pushing Shy to get his shit together so he and Tab can essentially give me a baby by having their own. That way, their kid can incinerate brownies and I get to laugh but my pans are safe.”
Tack let Joker go to turn to his wife and the look he’d been giving Joker was gone.
Completely.
Now he looked sick.
“Do not say that shit to me again,” he ordered.
“What shit?” Cherry asked, looking confused.
“Talkin’ to me about my baby girl pushin’ out a kid.”
“Tack, she’s gonna do it,” Cherry pointed out.
“Yeah, she is, and I’ll have to deal with it when she does. But I do not fuckin’ gotta talk about it before it happens,” Tack growled.
Cherry smiled huge at him.
Tack turned his pissed off mug Joker’s way and said tersely, “Proud a’ you, brother. This is gonna be huge for Ride. We had attention, not on this scale. You got us that with your talent. We knew it the minute we saw your drawings that you had it in you to make them real. Your builds are outstanding, Joke, and I’m fuckin’ thrilled they’re gonna get the attention they deserve.”
After that, with a scowl at his woman, he turned and stormed out of the office.
Joker stood unmoving, staring at the door.
“They are,” Cherry said quietly, and Joker forced his eyes to her. “They are and you are.” She went on. “I’ve seen a lot of cars and bikes come out of this garage, Joker, and they’ve always been spectacular. But your stuff is beyond the beyond.”
He didn’t know what to do with that or all it made him feel on top of all Tack made him feel, so he just said, “Thanks.”
“You giving Ride this, you’re doing a lot for your brothers,” she went on. “Tack does the books, and since you started your builds, income from the garage has risen twenty-seven percent. We always had a waiting list for clients but that was usually six months out. Now it’s over a year, so that goodness isn’t going to stop, and I suspect that Tack’s going to bring garage expansion to the Club table to be discussed soon before that gets out of hand. And that expansion is all about you.”
Joker’s throat suddenly felt scratchy.
“We do well, all the shops, the garage,” she continued quietly. “But everyone likes doing better, especially when that comes with getting more. You give your brothers more, Joker, and their families. You should know that’s lost on no one and it’s appreciated.”
Still not able to come up with anything to say, he just jerked up his chin and muttered, “Thanks again, Cherry. And set it up with that magazine. Whenever they’re ready, I’ll be here.”
“Okay, honey,” she replied softly.
Joker nodded to her and took off.
He went back to work liking a fuckuva lot what he was feeling.
He also got it.
It was about what he did, what he loved doing getting recognized. It felt good, that shit coming from out there, outside this garage, outside their world.
It felt better coming from his brothers.
But it was more.
As he worked, he came to the understanding that he would never pay back the people in his life who put him right there. Who gave all they could give to keep him sane and show him there was goodness in this world, which kept him from being buried under the dark.
But they didn’t need payback. If you’re a good person, you do good things. Simple as that.
But they knew, like Joker now knew, that good built good. So what they gave Joker meant that he’d not lost hold. Didn’t give up and become a junkie, a felon, a jackhole banging women on his couch, drinking himself sloppy, or making babies only to fill their lives full of black.
Instead, he was in the position to give back. To his brothers. To Carissa. To Travis.
The good he got from the people who cared about him set him up to return it, maybe not to them, but to people who deserved it.
And that was what it was all about. The meaning of life. Why every person on the planet was there.
They got what they gave and then they gave what they got, and it was the measure of you if you could endure the shit that came with life and still find it in you to focus on the good and put that out there.
He was that man.
And he was glad to be that man.
So he kept working, giving goodness to his brothers until it was time to call it quits and go home to his woman and her boy, where they’d also give him goodness they didn’t know they gave just by breathing.
And he would take it.
And give it back.
Carissa
It was late when I got home. I’d had an unusual afternoon shift that Sharon tried not to give me when I had Travis, but she couldn’t play favorites, so it happened.
I heard the TV on but saw no Joker in the kitchen so I plopped my purse on the counter, walked through the kitchen, and into the living room.