9

“Why not?” I ask.

Her eyes widen and she pleads for something with them, but I don’t know what. Drugs go to the police. That is the rule. “My reputation can’t handle it. We’re already known as the Bakery Bandits. What will Pearl say?”

I roll my eyes, but when I get a flash of Winnie, she seems concerned too.

“Huxley will never let me hear the end of this. We need to call somebody and get a handle on this situation.”

“You guys, there’s a storage unit full of drugs. We need the police.”

“No,” Katy says, her eyes now bright. “I have a plan. We’ll call Tabitha.”

“Tabitha?” I ask, confused. What does she have to do with this? Are they smuggling drugs in the bakery? It would make more sense with the name, but I can’t see Ridge dating a drug smuggler.

I’m clueless, but Winnie nods her head like she’s following along. “That’s a good idea. We’ll take the drugs and put them in the back of the car and drive them to Tabitha. She’ll know what to do.”

Okay, now I’m starting to worry. What is happening at the bakery downtown? Who am my becoming friends with and why would Tabitha know what to do with a storage unit full of drugs?

“Okay, but we have to work fast so we can get the drugs loaded before anyone comes back.”

“You guys are crazy. You know that. Right? We should call the cops. That’s what they do.” Police handle drugs. It’s in the job description.

“No, it’s not. If we call the police, my cousin Anderson will show up and it will be all over town. He loves rubbing my face in it when this kind of stuff happens.”

“Do these things happen to you often?” I whisper leaning over the box of dishes we’re using as a decoy. If this has happened before, she does need a codename on a police scanner.

She shakes her head. “That’s not important. Pop the trunk.”

Both women bump fists together and walk out of my storage unit, leaving me standing alone, shaking my head and wondering when we all agreed upon the fact that we’re putting drugs in a car and to drive to the bakery downtown.

When I don’t move right away, Katy pops her head back in my unit. “Come on, Josie. Close this thing up. We have to move.”

She says it as if this is absolutely an everyday normal kind of thing. Like today is Wednesday, we load the car up with drugs and drive around with them. When did I get dropped into the Twilight zone?

I have a mini panic attack and clutch over in the middle of my storage unit trying to regulate my breathing so I don’t have a heart attack and die right here breaking up a drug stealing operation. By the time I make it outside the storage unit, Katy and Winnie each carry a covered box with the image of bananas on the side. The trunk of the car is down and both women put their boxes in the back seat.

I run over to the car freaking out. “You didn’t put them in the trunk?” I ask when I see the backseat has four boxes on the floor and seats. Katy turns back to grab the last one from the storage unit without giving me a second of notice.

“The trunk wouldn’t hold them all,” Winnie says like that’s obvious.

“I’m not riding back there with them.” Are all these women crazy?

Katy opens the back door and shoves the last box of drugs on the seat. She misses, hitting the box on the side of the car, and a rectangular-shaped white brick slips over the top of the box and falls on the ground with a thud so loud I worry someone will think it’s an explosion.

“Shit.” Katy scrambles to pick up the bag, but as she does, white powder falls from a new hole created on the end from the fall. “I’ll ride back here. Hurry. We need to motor.” Katy tosses the leaking bag on the car floor and sits down next to the stack of boxes.

Winnie slams her door and then jumps in the driver’s seat starting the car while I climb into the passenger’s seat, not at all sure what we’re about to do. The car charges off with a lurch and I’m still buckling my seatbelt by the time we make it out of the storage unit parking lot.

“Slow down,” Katy directs. “We don’t want to get pulled over.”

“Yes, please slow down. That’s the last thing we need,” I plead as Winnie reduces her speed and heads to Pelican Bay, each of us pretending we aren’t driving around with a bunch of stolen goods. Stolen drug goods.

The twenty-minute drive to Pelican Bay proper gives me a lot of time to contemplate my choices in life. I’m not sure how I ended up here, riding with two women in a car stuffed with drugs, but I feel like at some point maybe I did something wrong. Maybe I ate too many Oreos. Maybe I didn’t eat enough Oreos.

If I was a home eating Oreos right now, I wouldn’t be in the car full of drugs.

“Don’t worry,” Katy says patting me on the shoulder as she leans up front from the backseat. “We’ll make it to Tabitha and she’ll take care of everything.”

“Does Tabitha sell drugs?” I ask the question I’ve been holding in since this crazy thing started.

“No!” Katy yells, startling Winnie. She reduces her speed again as we get closer to town. “She’s wholeheartedly against drugs. But her fiancé Ridge will know what to do.”

“So you plan to drive a car full of drugs up to the bakery and then what? Tell her to call her fiancé over and get the loot?” How will this not cause us trouble?

Katy taps a finger to her chin. “Well, when you put it that way, maybe we should have called him from the storage unit.”

My eyes widen and I have to focus on my breathing as my heart thumps in my chest. “You think?”

Nate works for Ridge, and while I don’t know the man, I can’t imagine how Nate would respond if I called them up and told him I was riding around in a car with drugs. In fact, I can guarantee it would not go well. None of this will go well.

The car hits a pothole and the box on the top of the stack next to Katy wobbles and tilts toward her. She braces the stack with an arm, managing to keep it up.

“Whoops,” Winnie says, turning the car with a hard left as we get closer to Pelican Bay. The stack of boxes hits the window and Katy hugs the middle one trying to keep everything lined up.

“Shit, we’ve almost made it,” Katy says as we drive past a cop car stationed on the side of the road using a radar on cars as they pass. She smiles and waves as we pass the police car and we all breathe a sigh of relief when it doesn’t pull out into the road after us.

“I will need so much church for this,” Winnie says, stopping the car in the back parking lot of the bakery.

“I just can’t believe you did it,” Nate sputters in complete disbelief.

It’s been four hours since we dropped the car load of drugs off at the bakery and left Tabitha with a bunch of similar questions. Anessa, the smart one, refused to let the drugs enter the store. But eventually, without even being called, Tabitha’s fiancé and a few guys showed up in the back room, and magically the drugs disappeared. Ridge put the three of us back into Winnie’s car and told her to take me home.

He kept calm, but it was one of those calms where you know it’s fake. There could have been smoke coming from his ears if the bakery wasn’t so warm.

I have a feeling I won’t be hanging out with the Bakery Bandits again soon.

“Whose idea was it?” Nate asks, pacing my tiny bathroom as Emma splashes in the tub unaware the trouble her mother got into today.

“Well, it kind of just happened… a little Katy.” But I hate to put all the blame on her. We followed along. Winnie didn’t object either.

I’m not sure what happened to the drugs. The tall guy named Bennett promised us Winnie’s car would pass a drug inspection and not to worry about it. Not that I think she has one of those planned anytime soon. He then promised all of us to secrecy and told us to pretend like it never happened. After that he called some guy named Spencer and told him to wipe the video surveillance. It had been more than a little shady.

Nate paces a few more times, mumbling under his breath. The name Katy is the only word I make out on a random occasion.

“Do you know all the stories I’ve heard about her?” he asks, when he finally stops for a moment. “If I had believed for half a second, they were true, I wouldn’t have let her in the apartment.”

“Wait!” I say squeaking a little rubber ducky at Emma to keep her distracted. “Katy is nice. You weren’t there, Nate, but the situation was stressful. We had to act fast.” It’s true.

I’m not happy with how it went down. If we had been pulled over and arrested for drugs before we made it to the bakery, life would have gotten bad. Custody of Emma would have been in question and I could have lost her. Barry would never let me near her again if that happened. On the ride back to my apartment I vowed to make smarter choices from that moment forth. At the time it didn’t seem so horrible. Well, that’s a lie. It was a bad idea from the start, but Katy was persistent and I was so scattered. Everything happened so fast I had to go along with it. Winnie agreed too.

“Do you know the local police station calls her the Bakery Bandit?”

I smirk, remembering the conversation from earlier in the day. “Yes, I’ve heard.”

“Josie, I don’t know what to do about this,” Nate says, sitting down on the toilet and putting his head in his hands.

“Why you have to do anything about it? The situation is handled.” Sure, it was a stupid decision, but the result was the same. The drugs are in Ridge’s hands now. And no one will be the wiser about what happened.

Nate shakes his head. “You don’t understand. This stuff always has repercussions.”

Emma splashes her hands in the tub and then her little body lurches over and the worst baby olive-green vomit projectiles out of her mouth like my child has been possessed by the same demon who stars in the Exorcist movies. Green goo covers the front of the bathtub and I reach into the water getting the second round of puke all over my arm. The water turns the most disgusting shade of green and I gag, grabbing her out of the tub while splashing the liquid on the floor.

“Oh my gosh, Emma. What happened?” I ask, searching the bathroom for a towel.

Nate jumps up from the toilet with a towel in one hand and takes Emma from me, wrapping her up. “Drain the water from the tub and then use the shower head to wash it out. I’ll clean her up with a wipe and put her in some pajamas in case she throws up again.”

He marches Emma out of the bathroom, leaving me to deal with the sticky green cleanup as he sweetly talks to her in a calming voice about how she’s going to be okay and that he’s got her.

My heart melts at the situation — a moment of happiness mixed in with worry over my daughter and trying to remember where I stashed the thermometer the last time I needed it. All the happy feelings disappear when I turn back and see the spreading green glop as it takes over the rest of the clear liquid in the tub. How did I get stuck with this part of cleanup?

“Don’t you need to work this week?” Nate asks, leaning over my bed and lacing his black chunky work boots he wears every day.

I lie back on the bed, readjusting my head on the pillow as I pull the covers up around my shoulders. “No, I got through to my boss, but he said the temp worker who replaced me is scheduled for the week so I could take another one off.” There isn’t money in the payroll for us both.

Honestly, I was a little upset at first when he told me they didn’t want to take the hours away from my temporary placement, but my doctor’s note covers me for the rest of the week and I’ve enjoyed being able to stay home with Emma. You miss out on so many little things during the day when you’re working. My ankle is feeling better than even I expected, and by next week I’ll be ready to go back. Plus, Emma will feel better by then.

“What are you doing at work today?” I ask him every day but he never tells me.

He did tell me he’d have to run a few “trips” this week. He didn’t elaborate on what the trips were, and even though I’m dying to know, I’m doing my best not to ask. We’re a hot minute into this relationship. I don’t want to become the crazy girlfriend all up in his business.

There’s a small thread nagging in my brain and warning me that I should worry his trips are to a secret wife or prettier girlfriend, but I work to bash the horrible thoughts down to the far reaches of my brain. Nate doesn’t seem like the cheating type. Plus, I’m sure you have to be with someone for more than a week before they’re allowed to cheat.

I’m perfectly aware I have trust issues after the divorce — I gave a therapist a lot of money to tell me this many times before I believed it — but I didn’t expect them to show their ugly heads so soon. There’s a small possibility I’m not as grown-up, mature, and rational as I once believed.

I watch him bend over to tie his other shoe, the muscles in his back stretched across his bare skin enough to make me wish we could stay home and lie in bed together all day. But then Emma cries out and he stands, promising to get her.

Great muscles and he takes care of a child. Could any woman ask for more?

Probably more than a crazy woman with trust issues who rides around in a car full of cocaine with two girls from the downtown bakery.

I have got to get my life together.

Starting today I will be the perfect mom and girlfriend. I’ll even make some cookies. Cookies make everything better, damn it. I’ll do my hair like my mom always says how it looks cute when I wear it half up and find a dress that makes me look matronly, maybe something a little 1950s era.

“Her head feels cooler, and she acts like she feels better today,” Nate says, setting Emma on my lap.

I woke up with her around eleven, gave her more meds, and rocked her back to sleep. At two the sound of her shushed cries rattled me again. I felt my side and found the bed empty. Nate held her in his arms gently, pacing with her in the middle of her bedroom and whispering sweet nothings.

If I hadn’t been so tired and ready to fall back to sleep right there on the floor, my panties would have melted off. Screw looking at half-naked firemen holding puppies online. All I need is a mental image of Nate being tender to Emma for the rest of my life. He might not know how to do her hair, and he’s still unsuccessfully trying to teach her how not to fling spaghetti against the wall, but the man is amazing with a child who isn’t his own. Better than her actual father.

“Hello, sweetheart,” I coo and watch as Nate pulls on a black long-sleeve shirt and covers his chest up with a sleeveless vest. It might be Maine, but it’s the middle of the summer and he’s never dressed in layers before.

“What did you say you’re doing today?” I try again.

He wrestles with putting a watch on his left wrist, not turning back. “A little of this, a little of that.”

Fear, jealousy, and suspicion prick at my chest.

I will not go crazy and demand to know what he’s doing today.

I will not go crazy and question him before he leaves. That behavior makes me a psycho.

I take three long breaths and repeat the mantras to myself again. Nate has given me no reason to suspect him, and I won’t ruin a good thing because the asshole I married before screwed with our relationship and my brain.

“What’s wrong?” Nate asks as Emma pulls on a tendril of my hair.

I work to remove her tiny little baby fingers that have gotten stuck between the strands and answer, “Nothing.”

“It’s never nothing when a female says nothing.”

Do I lie, or be honest and let him see the crazy that is me inside?

“Is this about the job?” Nate asks, even though by the expression on his face he’s already determined the answer is yes. Smart man.

I sigh, pretending like he’s the crazy one. “Of course not.”

“Josie, unfortunately with what I do, I can’t always tell you what I do every day. It keeps you safe and there are confidentiality issues I have to deal with for certain clients,” he says sitting back on the bed.

All those things are the truth. He’s off doing superspy business or whatever Ridge’s company does, but it’s also a convenient excuse a cheater would use.

“I’m sorry, it’s just with my past and how crazy I am.”

He chuckles, kissing me on the forehead like I’m something precious. “You’re not crazy. Look, I won’t be able to be on my phone much today, but I’ll let you track me.”

My eyes narrow at the suggestion. “Track you?”

Visions of me sitting in my car, hiding below the window, and using the long scope on a camera to take pictures of him flash in my mind. I watched the show Veronica Mars, but it’s not a career field I’m looking to get into.

“It’s easy.” He grabs his cell phone from his back pocket and gathers mine from the night table. He taps on the phones for a few seconds and holds them both on his knee. “I thought I told you to password protect this thing?”

“Emma likes to play the games.” I have colors and letters learning songs on my phone for her. Before I had kids, I always said I wouldn’t be one of those parents who stuck a device in front of my child’s faces, but you know what? They work. You have a kid screaming in a shopping cart because you’re taking too long to pick out what kind of broccoli you want for a side dish next week, and the only way to get them quiet and out of the store without causing a scene is a shove the phone at her, that’s what you do. At least she’s learning her ABCs.

“There, we’re all set,” Nate says, pressing a few more buttons on my phone.

He passes it back and then taps on the new green-colored square with a weird white design in the middle. “You tap on the app and the tracker will show you where I am.”

“For real?” I grab the phone from his hands and the little map loads, showing a red dot and a green dot right next to each other.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone where my dot is?” he asks, tilting his head to the side and giving me a look.

“Yes, I promise.” I cross my finger over my heart.

Who knows why his actions mean so much to me? But they do. I stare at the green dot labeled Nate, reassuring me he’s right next me even though I can see him as he sits on the bed. If I was younger and a little more naïve, I would tell my friends it was absolutely crazy. You don’t attract someone with the issues I have, but I’m older and wiser. My heart has been broken. I’m aware that in life you clutch on to the little things that give you some sense of peace. And call me crazy, but knowing I can see Nate’s green dot whenever I want is already providing me peace. Tabitha’s not so crazy.

Just the fact he’s willing to do it and thought of the idea himself is enough. I can’t imagine Barry ever offering such a concession. Then I would’ve known when he was out to late night dinners with his girlfriend or visiting the small studio apartment he’d rented for her. I’d have found out about all those times he promised me he was working late at the office he was at a strip club downtown.

Nate pats Emma on the head and then slips off the bed. “I’ll be back late. Don’t forget we have dinner at Ridge’s house tonight for a meeting.”

“Dinner meeting? Aren’t those for his employees only?”

Nate grins, his white teeth visible in his exaggerated smile. “After yesterday’s trouble, Ridge has decided meetings include girlfriends and eventual wives from now on when they can.”

“Are we?” I ask, too scared to say the word “dating.”

Nate nods his head, shaking it once. “Of course we are and even if we weren’t, you still have to go because I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“But we are, right?” It’s fine if I want to triple check. Right? Get it in writing.

“Josie,” he says with a hint of disbelief as he leans down and kisses me on the lips and then tugs gently at Emma’s hair. “I wouldn’t let anyone track my phone unless I planned to be with her for a long time.”

“Oh,” my face heats and breaks out into a smile, way too happy over the fact Nate just made me his girlfriend.

It feels so much like high school, but I don’t care.

I have a boyfriend.

I have a boyfriend and he’s hot.

“My phone will be on silent, but if something happens or you need me, text.” He tucks his shirt in and heads for the door, turning back once. “And Josie.”

“Yes,” I respond, looking up from Emma.

“Don’t leave the apartment.” And then he keeps on walking right out the door.

Men.

“Are you sure this shirt looks okay?” I ask, pressing down on the wrinkles I just noticed in the long pink T-shirt I put on to wear to Ridge’s work meeting. The shirt is long enough to cover my butt because since having Emma I haven’t quite gotten my ass cheeks to fit into a pair of jeans properly. I also have a baby, so there was never enough time to go jean shopping.

Nate stops walking, using a few seconds to grab Emma from my arms and bounce her on his hip. It’s probably the safest choice because I’m not sure I should be trusted to hold the baby, walk, and get creases out of clothing while talking at the same time. “Baby, you look amazing. Stop covering up that ass. It’s a sight to see.”

I stare up, puzzled. “My ass?”

He leans back, staring at my rump, and then licks his top lip. “One day I’ll bite it.”

My eyes widen, a bit in worry and a lot in excitement. I wonder what that would be like?

“Josie! Over here,” Winnie yells from the front door of Ridge’s home before I get the chance to ask for more details.

“This won’t be one of those parties where you abandon me to go hang out with your girlfriends. Is it?” Nate asks, smiling… so he’s not upset about the possibility.

I nod. “Probably.” And that’s wonderful. I can’t remember the last time I had more than one friend at a time. It seems crazy, but I belong to a group. I have friends with an s.

Nate holds the door open and Emma pushes her favorite baby doll into the side of his neck. Ridge’s home is splendid. We walk up into the large two-story colonial home where I’d expected to see lots of wood in traditional features, but it’s the opposite. I can still see some original features of the house, like a big strong staircase made of dark wood, but the rest of the home is modern with open spaces and large rooms. It’s like every East Coast girl’s wet dream of a house.

I gasp when we get to the kitchen. There’s white and stainless steel everywhere with a long island separating the room and the countertops glistening. They’re all covered with dishes others have brought. A few store-purchased items are mixed into the lot with homemade options right beside them.

Nate drops the bag of potato chips we brought, our lackluster combination looking very pitiful next all the covered casserole dishes. I’m just impressed he’d been able to handle Emma and the chips with neither one of them ending up flattened. He’s only been helping me out with Emma for a few weeks and already I feel like he’s better at this whole parenting thing than I am at times.

Nate’s height puts Emma right at Tabitha’s eye level, and she gets as close to her face as possible, talking in all the cute baby terms about how adorable she is. Emma stares at her and then looks at me as if she’s had enough and it’s time for me to remove her entourage.

“Nate, you can go out with Ridge and the other guys in the yard. We’ll take care of Emma.”

Nate eyes Tabitha skeptically. “I’ll take her with me,” he says bouncing Emma a few more times as she smiles and laughs. My child loves him too. “You want to watch the grill. Don’t you?” he asks, and her little face perks up into a smile.

Tabitha looks to me for help but I only shrug. What can I say? Emma likes the man.

I watch as Nate walks out the door and notice the smattering of men in the backyard. Ridge has a large deck with a grill set up on the side, and two men hover over the area. Beyond that, in the huge green space of his yard, is a plethora of men — all tall, muscular, and hunky. There has to be at least fifteen people out there.

Tabitha shakes her head watching me. “Katy will be so upset she missed this. Ridge has done a lot of hiring.”

“Katy isn’t coming?”

“She doesn’t come if it’s a couple’s thing. She’s worried about it. I don’t know. I keep telling her it’s no big deal, but she doesn’t listen.”

“Ridge won’t let Tabitha anywhere near the grill, so we’ve been stuck inside keeping the side dishes warm,” Winnie says with a laugh and changing the subject.

Tabitha pulls a non-covered casserole dish — what looks to be macaroni and cheese — from the oven and places it on the last bare spot on the counter. “It is for the best,” she says, raising one shoulder in a half shrug. I get the impression this is an argument they’ve before and she’s just given up.

“You promise there wasn’t a camera in the bathroom?” Anessa asks, walking out from a small powder room off to one side of the kitchen.

A camera?

“He promised the bathrooms and bedrooms are clear,” Tabitha says not paying attention as Anessa dries off her hands, whipping them on the top of her jeans.

“Where do you think they are?” Her eyes search the corners of the room and all the areas where things are gathered.

“Honestly, I’ve given up trying to figure it out.”

Winnie rolls her eyes also checking the spaces with Anessa. “I swear I found one in the bakery. It’s tiny, and set into the wall, but it’s a camera for sure.”

“The cameras aren’t that bad. We have used them a few times,” Tabitha says, smiling at her friends while their eyes continue to search the room. “I just go with it.”

Winnie nods. “You are marrying the man.”

Tabitha sighs, one of those deep-gut ones that says she’s in love and stares down at her diamond ring. “Yeah.”

“Wait a minute,” I step toward the girls, still putting all the pieces together. “Ridge has cameras?”

“Everywhere. How do you think he got to the bakery so fast when you guys pulled up with boxes of coke?” Tabitha’s eyes widen. She still can’t believe we drove a car to Anessa’s bakery while it was full of drugs. Neither can I, quite frankly.

“I thought you called them?”

She tips her shoulder up again. “I walked into the back of the bakery and said, ‘Hey, Ridge, there’s a car of drugs here,’ but he already knew. It’s the same thing.”

Except, it’s not. How does she think it’s even similar?

“The cameras are nothing, but after the drugs, he brought back the security guard at the bakery. One of his poor guys just sits there all day looking at us.”

“The bakery has a security guard?” I ask. I’ve never seen anyone there.

Anessa nods. “From his company, he and Bennett make somebody sit there all day doing nothing but watching us, eating food, and drinking coffee.” She pauses for a moment lost in thought. “Now that I think about it, the guys might not mind the job so much. But it’s weird on my end.”

“Especially when Dom or one of his brothers comes in.” Tabitha uncovers a few more dishes on the counter, balling up tinfoil and throwing it in the trash.

“Who is Dom?”

Anessa leans closer, whispering like she’s scared somebody will hear her talking. “He runs the local motorcycle gang. He and Bennett have this uneasy alliance, but I wouldn’t call them friendly.”

“The alliance or the guys?”

“Bennett and Dom. The actual guys in the club are super nice.”

Tabitha nods. “They’re at the bakery about once a day and are always polite.”

“I don’t know why everyone dislikes them,” Winnie chips in.

Definitely living in the twilight zone.

The front door opens and a woman’s voice calls out. “We’re here.”

Tabitha comes across the other side of the island and hugs a blonde-haired woman. “Josie this is Joslin. She’s dating Spencer. I’m so glad they let him off the cameras for the day so you could eat with us.”

“Josie and Jocelyn,” Winnie says, staring at the both of us. “What’s with all the J names?”

I shrug. “People like J names.”

“Anyway,” Tabitha says clearing her throat. “We were talking about all the new crazy things the guys are making us do after Katy’s little incident with the drugs. What does Spencer have you doing?”

Jocelyn thinks for a second. “I don’t have any. He’s crazy and protective in general so not much has changed.”

Winnie and Tabitha laugh like these conversations are natural.

The back door opens and a tall brown-haired guy peeks his head in. “Hey, Jos. Wanna come hang out with me?”

“She’s with the girls,” Tabitha yells back, her face perplexed.

The door closes, but Jocelyn’s eyes never leave it. “I’ll go check on them,” she says before hurrying outside.

Winnie shakes her head. “That girl has it bad.”

“He has a dog. He roped her in with pet love,” Tabitha replies, watching Jocelyn walk across the wooden deck and Spencer wrap his arm around her shoulders before they walk down the steps and into the grass together.

“So what has Nate done to you?” Tabitha asks once the couple is out of sight.

I consider the past few days for a second, trying to go over everything. “Nothing.”

But then as a silence sets in and the girls all stare at me waiting, a few things fall into place. Like the fact he has been reluctant to leave me alone the last few days. And on Wednesday when he had to work for a few hours, he had Pearl come over and sit with me. I asked if it was to help with Emma and he nodded but the way he said, “Yeah, Emma,” made a few strands of doubt settle deep.

And he put that tracker on my phone.

Although, he did that for my benefit.

Didn’t he?

Of course he did. And even if he didn’t, the tracker makes me feel better. But I’m not going to admit it to the room of women looking at me waiting.

“That’s what we thought,” Winnie says, nodding with understanding, but not asking for more information.

Tabitha pulls the last casserole from the oven, but there’s no room left on the island so she forces it on top of the burner. “Even though they’re crazy, something about those men keeps us coming back.”

I nod, but she doesn’t turn around to see.

“Can you help with some of these?” Tabitha asks, already handing us each a pair of oven mitts and grabbing a dish from the counter.

“Sure,” I agree sticking my hand in the thick bright pink glove.

Tabitha holds the door open with her butt, letting each of us walk out past her.

I’m halfway down the deck steps when there’s a rumble in the air. A motorcycle.

And then another. And then another. And then the sound explodes like it’s not one or two guys riding motorcycles together but an entire pack of them. A gang.