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Life moves along, having highs and lows, yet never announcing the important moments. A person has to pay attention. Sure, the death of my father was obviously big. But smaller moments—seeing Monroe for the first time or choosing to sit down with Aja at Burger King—could have passed by without notice. A few different choices and my life would have been measurably worse in a million ways.
Nothing is ever made official when I take over the Executioners from Bronco. We do what he wanted—sharing power by taking turns leading meetings and acting as the club's voice.
This goes on for years. My modern-traditionalist home is built. My children are born. My beard attempt flops. Monroe’s short bob isn’t much more successful. So many milestones pass before I realize how Bronco isn’t sharing power anymore. I’m the one running the Executioners. He never really retires as much as demotes himself. Bronco’s no longer the guy who gets the call in the middle of the night, but he still has my back.
This process is so gradual and easy that we skip the parts where I have to deal with old men thinking I’m too soft. By the time Dunning takes over for his dad, we’ve been working together for years. No one views him as a boy anymore. By then, he’s built his own house. Somehow, Dunning and Amity stick it out. I honestly don’t get them, but Monroe acts as if they make perfect sense.
“Dunning’s insecure around women, and Amity is very generous emotionally. He feels safe. She feels safe. Everyone’s happy.”
Who am I to disagree? Monroe and I only needed twenty-four hours together before we were in love. Sometimes, life’s just that easy.
By the time I’m president, Wyatt’s gotten a lot of his shit together. His personal growth didn’t come easily, of course. Living in his own place with his wife and their redheaded daughter, he got cocky again. He figured Bronco was taking too long to hand the club over to me. Our uncle must be having second thoughts. Lots of ego bullshit. Though Wyatt did manage to tone down his bad attitude when Noel went through his three months of misery, my cousin remained a raging asshole overall. I doubted he could help himself.
Then, right after Bardot entered the world, Wyatt’s son was born with a heart defect. Suddenly, my cousin faced a problem he couldn’t bully or whine his way out of. His son, Warrior, wasn’t a badass to show off to the world. For the baby’s first year, his parents’ egos took a back seat. Wyatt and DeAnna matured a lot once their perfect world wasn’t so perfect anymore. Though I’ll always hold a grudge against him for a lifetime of bullshit, I can admit he isn’t the same man I once threatened at the hot dog stand.
While Warrior struggles that first year, Bardot flourishes. Early on, she bonds with Sequoia. Anders’s youngest daughter is a little dictator, and Bardot acts as her enforcer. Watching them stand up to kids twice their age is endlessly entertaining.
Noel is a tricky child to understand. Clingy with Monroe at times, yet easy-breezy when around other kids. He isn’t shy or a pushover. He’s no leader, either. Sometimes, he’ll sit next to Monroe and stare at me nearby. I always sense him claiming her and refusing to share.
Unfortunately for my little man, Monroe and Bardot give zero fucks about his greediness. As for me, I’ll never push him when he gets in those possessive moods with his mom. The kid doesn’t trust the world like his sister does. I’m not sure why or if it’s something he’ll work out over time. I just know I can’t be the reason he feels unsafe.
The only time he doesn’t trust his mom is in the pool. I think he feels she’s too small to keep him safe. When I hold him, he’s up higher, farther above the danger. Whereas Bardot is fearless, Noel is always searching for the safety exits.
There are times when that boy sits in my lap and watches me as if I’m the most fascinating thing in the world. I remember feeling that way about my dad. I don’t know if Wheels ever noticed my gaze on him or felt the love I do from my boy.
Becoming a father stirs up many old resentments. But it also awakens the good memories I had of my dad. Little things I’d long forgotten, like when we’d sit out on the front porch and share a soda while watching people ride by. There’s nothing profound about those moments. Yet, doing the same things with my kids makes my father feel alive again.
“Maybe you focused on his failings to make it easier to deal with losing him,” Monroe says one night in bed.
Monroe’s right. Like a lot of young men, I embraced my resentments toward my parents. Then, Dad died, and I held on to the bad shit. Just enough not to mind him being gone. Now, I see him clearer and miss him more. With Monroe in my life, I’m no longer afraid to face the pain.
Years ago, all I wanted was to run from Elko and the Executioners’ expectations. I felt a target on my back, placed there by the club and even my family. Some of those fears were real, others imagined, but I dreamed of living in a place where I wasn’t Conor Jessup.
Then, Monroe stumbled her way into my life, and the universe whispered, and dibs were called. Now, no matter what awaits the Executioners in the future, I’ll be ready.
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THE END
