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“You have a motorcycle?” she asked, zeroing in on his cut.
I wasn’t too sure of how much my daughter knew about outlaw motorcycle clubs… probably more than I did at the beginning. She was also a lot more open-minded than me and probably even romanticized such things.
Swiss nodded in response to Violet’s question.
“You’ve taken my mother riding on it?” I bit back a smile as she continued her interrogation.
Swiss nodded again. “I have,” he spoke for the first time, his voice was raspy and low.
Violet stared for a few moments, her gaze penetrative and unreadable.
Swiss shifted on his feet under my daughter’s gaze.
“And you make my mom laugh.” Her comment told me that she had been watching us longer than I’d thought.
Swiss smiled. “I do my best.”
Violet folded her arms. “Will you take me for a ride on your motorcycle?”
“Absolutely not,” I exclaimed at the same time Swiss said, “Fuck yeah.”
Violet’s blank expression turned into a bright grin.
“Okay, you’ve got my tentative approval,” she decided.
I swear, I saw Swiss sag in relief.
“Thank fuck,” Macy announced. “Now margaritas!”
And, as if on cue, the clamor of more bikes sounded.
It seemed my daughter was being dropped into the deep end of my new life.
