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twenty-seven
Delaney’s uncles, who didn’t receive her text message until they stopped at a hotel that night, drove all the way back to her shop the next morning. The first thing Boom said when he saw Delaney’s black eye, was, “Who do I have to kill?”
She filled them in on the night’s adventures, particularly the part about the brothers being in jail. After some coffee and doughnuts, Delaney calmed them down by letting them help work on Sean’s bike for a while.
Zip stood back and appraised the cycle as Delaney rolled the Willie G off the lift. He’d helped her put in a new clutch and restore the sissy bar and rear stash bag, which had been lost long ago. Delaney had found the parts by scouring online, cashing in a few favor chips and paying a little extra on expedited shipping. “Can’t get over that oxblood color,” Zip said, offering the bike a sweet, low whistle.
“I know, right?”
“Your copper is going to love it.”
“He’s not mine,” Delaney said, her voice stilted. “I kind of fucked that up, even though he helped me get Wyatt back last night.”
Wyatt perked his ears up and whapped his tail at the mention of his name. He’d made an amazing recovery the next morning, when he’d discovered he was back in the shop, surrounded by motorcycles. He’d run around like a toddler, tearing into everything, spinning, chasing his tail. Delaney wasn’t a dog expert, but that sure looked like happiness.
“Bullshit,” Zip said, chuckling as he admired Sean’s restored bike. “Nobody does this good a job unless they’re in love.”
“Mmm-hmm!” Boom, perched at the counter, raised his coffee mug in a toast to that comment. “Don’t even try to hide it, Squeaky. I’m happy for you. Even if he is a cop.”
“Every inch of that hog screams love,” Sal agreed, swirling his hips around in a gesture Delaney wished she could un-see.
“I’m good at what I do,” Delaney protested. “Restoring bikes is my passion.”
“That cop is your passion,” Donnie piped up, eliciting laughter all around the shop.
“Oh, my sweet love,” Sal raised his voice an octave and rested his cheek against his hands, palms pressed together. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but my heart has beenarrestedby you.”
The laughter rolled through the shop.
“As a token of my love,” Boom chimed in, far less successful at making his voice sound like a woman’s, “I want to offer this cherried-out Willie.”
The laughter swelled and exploded, making Wyatt tilt his head back to bark.
“Don’t you guys have to get going?” Delaney spoke above the din, glanced at her watch, then grabbed a handful of pens from the counter and started pinging the men one by one to a chorus of protests. “Hour’s getting late. Omaha is a loooooong drive.”
The laughter intensified, but died off as Delaney drew the little guardian bell from Hell’s Bells from her pocket and attached it to the back of the Willie G. In what could only be explained as a wild coincidence, the bell included in Delaney’s winnings had Celtic knot work carved on it, something called atriskele, when Delaney had looked it up, which seemed perfect for Sean Callahan.
“Seriously, Pip.” Boom set his coffee mug down and came over by her side. “What am I missing? He comes out to save you in the middle of the night. And now you’re hanging a sweet little bell on his bike. You’re not fooling anyone but yourself.”
Delaney drew a deep breath and gave her uncles the answer they deserved. “My mom is what caused the fight.” And then she filled them all in on the story about ’33.
“You told us you didn’t know who took ’33 or gave her back,” Sal said.
“Well, I wasn’t really sure then.”
Everybody was quiet awhile, exchanging glances, until Boom spoke up in his confident bass. “Nora had a hold on your dad all his life. She had something inside that he knew was worth saving. And she did finally get clean. Long time ago. By then, you wanted nothing to do with her and your dad respected that.” Boom shrugged. “She was the love of your dad’s life. Like it or not.”
“She came out after your dad died.” Sal glanced at the other men as he spoke, obviously spilling a secret. “She waited until she knew you were gone, but once you were, she went out to the grave. She stayed in Omaha a few days. Was a mess. A complete mess. She loved that man. Regretted all the years she wasted.”
Delaney considered that for a long time. It felt like the ceiling of the shop was bearing down on her, making her world too small to breathe.
Sal was there, holding her hands in his. He was the most sensitive of them all, despite all the tattoos that tried to suggest otherwise. “Nobody’s telling you what to do. We’re only saying that your mom is a new person. Or, who she was meant to be before life got real mean to her. And your cop boyfriend isn’t so bad, either. Coming from us, that means something.”
Slowly, the ceiling lifted. Delaney smiled, despite the burning behind her eyes. Soon, they were one big circle, all kinds of man sweat and leather and motor oil crushing in on her.
Smelled like home.
