“The address of someone in Alina.”
Chains raised his eyebrows. “That’s it? Too fuckin’ easy, dude.”
“I can text you her name.”
“Her?” He chuckled.
“This is between us, okay? I don’t want any of the brothers knowing.”
“No worries. Once I get the name, I can send you her address in minutes.”
He grasped Chains’s forearm. “Thanks. I owe you.” As Chains walked away, Goldie remembered the chick Army was trying set him up with. “Chains. Talk to Army. The way he talks, he’s got a chick who’s a sure thing and looking for some fun tonight.”
A wide smile cracked his face. “If she’s so great, why aren’t you in?”
“I have to work. Talk to him about it. Later.” He switched on his Harley and rode out of the lot. He had no idea what he was going to do with Hailey’s address once he got it, but it made him feel better to know where she lived.I’m acting like a goddamn teenager.He pushed the throttle harder, aiming his bike for the back road that cut through the great expanse of the desert.
The road was straight and one of his favorite rides in the county. He loved the way the San Juan Mountains rose up from the flatness of the desert. In the background, the blue-tinted mountains bursting with color were a vibrant contrast to the brownness of the sand, rocks, and brush. Springtime in the desert was beautiful in a harsh and desolate way. Since the early spring months had brought a lot of rain, pops of color from some of the flowers on the green bushes kept the landscape from appearing so monochrome.
Being the lone rider on the road added to the experience of being one with nature. It was like he was the only one in the world surrounded by such beauty. The wind, the earthy scent, the cloudless sky all engulfed him, swallowing him and fusing with him until he surrendered to them. It was at that moment that he achieved his nirvana: head cleared, senses acute, weightless.
After a couple hours, he looped back and headed to Cherry Vale, the nursing facility where his grandmother resided. She’d been living there for the past two years after she fell and broke her hip. She should’ve been able to rehab and come home, but Alzheimer’s made sure that would never happen. Since the disease had crept into her brain a few years before, she no longer understood how to follow the physical therapy instructions, so she ended up a permanent resident at the facility. Goldie paid for her care, which gave her a single room on the rehab floor, not the skilled nursing floor. It was a minor thing, but Goldie didn’t want to think about his grandma living in a nursing home.
The double sliding doors opened into a lobby that looked like a living room on a movie set. A large aviary stood in the corner of the room, and several residents sat staring at the canaries and finches as they flitted. A few smiled and cocked their heads as the canaries’ songs filtered into the area. Goldie turned the corner and entered the first door on his right.
He stood in the doorway taking in his grandma, who sat in her forest-green recliner watching the images flickering on her television set.She looks so frail and small.Even though Goldie came by several times a week to spend time with her, he was always blown away when he first entered her room. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to how much her appearance had changed. In his mind, he still saw her as the robust, energetic woman who’d raised him, his two brothers, and his sister when their parents had crashed into a mountain during a storm. His father had been an avid pilot, having been in the Air Force. His mother was scared to death to fly in the twin-engine plane his father had bought, but she’d grit her teeth and do it knowing it made his dad happy.
His parents had gone to an old friend’s birthday party in California, and when they were coming back to Colorado, a storm came up and their plane went off course. Goldie had always held on to the thought that they didn’t see the mountain before they slammed into it. His maternal grandparents immediately took them in and raised them. They had taken them in on and off for a few years before his parents crashed. His mom had bailed on them and took off, and his father couldn’t handle four young kids, so his grandma stepped up to the plate.
Then his mom had come back, and his parents had reconciled and family life had been back on track. Then they died. At first, Goldie’s world seemed like a bad nightmare where everything was the same but it wasn’t. But for a ten-year-old, life kept moving rapidly, distractions came up daily, and soon his parents became a memory. There were times when he’d think of them, but it was his grandparents who’d put up with him during his teen years and after.
“Hey, Grandma,” Goldie said loudly.
Her pale blue eyes looked at him and a smile lit her lined face. “Garth,” she said softly.
He went over and bent down, kissing her cheek. “How are you?”
She stared at him, the small twinkle of recognition replaced by a vacant look. He sighed and pulled up a chair next to her, grasped her bony hand in his, and watched the television. He hated the look of disconnection that had become more pronounced in the last few months.
“Your grandma’s doing great,” Shelly, the nurse, said as she came into the room with a small cup of applesauce.
“She looks too thin. Is she eating okay?” Goldie glanced at his grandma who didn’t divert her gaze from the screen.
“She’s up and down. Sometimes she’ll eat real well and other times she won’t take anything. We give her a protein drink on those days. How’ve you been?” She ran her eyes over his arms.
“Good.” He knew she had the hots for him. Whenever she was on shift when he was there, she’d come into the room dozens of times. She told him she had a bike, a rice burner, and she often asked if he’d like to go riding together. Shelly was cute enough with her shapely legs, brown hair and eyes, but he wasn’t interested. He knew she was the clingy type, and if he had a fling with her, she’d cause all kinds of problems. And he didn’t want a pissed-off chick taking care of his grandma.
“You’re looking real good. You been riding much?” She licked her lips, the applesauce still in her hand.
“I’m a biker. That’s what I do. Is that for my grandma?” He pointed to the Dixie cup.
She laughed dryly. “Of course. Uh… yeah. This is your grandma’s medication.” She went in front of the elderly woman and brought the spoon to her lips.
His grandmother opened up, then smiled. She craned her neck to Goldie. “Are you going to eat any? You and Chad used to love it when I made it. Homemade. None of that pre-made stuff.” She smacked her lips as she took a few more spoonfuls.
Goldie laughed. “You made the best applesauce in town. Hell, you were the best cook in town. Remember how many blue ribbons you won in all those cook-offs?”
She nodded, smiling, and then the smile faded and the dementia pushed the slice of lucidity away. She stopped opening her mouth, and her gaze returned to the pictures on the screen.
