Chapter 2: Jordan

Pulling an all nighter, I managed to get the bike built just in time for pickup.  This sweet ride, goes to a handicap man who has only one leg.  Making it so everything is on the handles and it auto centers itself, it can't fall over unless a semi hits it.  Of course, then it will be the least of his problems.

I wipe the sweat off my brow and hand the keys to the transporter, before signing off on it.  This one took me 3 months to build, but it is always worth it in the end.  Just knowing someone can get the freedom they so deserve, makes me happy.

Pulling out my phone and checking my messages, I click on Lillian again to make sure that she hasn't backed out.  I remember her from high school.  Always wanting to get to know her better, I regret leaving without ever finding out and now I see that she has two children and she is married.

Why did she indicate that she wasn't happy?  It's not something that people broadcast to someone they just start talking to.  More importantly, why aren't they happy?  A woman who looks that good at 37, should be happy in her life.  If she was my wife, I would make damned sure that she was always taken care of in everyway.

"Hey, can I go home now?" Ted stares at me like he is about to fall over.  

I look up and smile, "Yeah, get out of here."  He has been here all night with me, trying to make sure it was perfect, before we shipped it out.

"What time should I be in?"

"Why don't you take the next 2 days off and we will get started on the next one Thursday. You did a great job.  Thanks."  I may be a hard ass boss, but I am understanding and do give credit where it is due.

"Thanks, see ya Thursday then."  I watch as he walks over to his car and takes off.  Closing up the shop, I get on my bike and drive home.  Just before I get home, I stop at the gas station and grab a cup of coffee and a donut.  

Eating it in the parking lot before I leave, I watch a woman with a fine ass walk into pay for her gas.  Almost whistling at her, I decide that I better not and drive home.  I am tired enough, the last thing I need right now is a woman riding me for four hours.  Laughing, I leave and when I open my front door I get the surprise of my life.

"Jordan, you are home."  My mom is sitting on the couch, drinking a bottle of cheap Vodka.  i guess it really was a good thing I didn't bring that woman home.  I haven't seen my mom in three years, the last time was when she divorced her latest husband.  Wondering if she divorced yet another one, I throw my coat on the chair by the door.

"What's up mom?  Why are you here?"

"Is that anyway to treat your mom?  I came for a visit, I figured I could stay here for a bit, at least till I get on my feet again."

"What happened this time?  Did you get kicked out or get caught cheating again?"

She stares at the floor, avoiding my gaze and answers.  "Son, I screwed up bad this time.  I actually fell in love, but I got drunk and he caught me with another man.  I don't know what to do."

"Well, you can stay here for a few days and then I will set you up with some place to live till you work things out with him.  O.K.?"  Getting ready to crash, I wait for her answer.  

"Sure son, whatever you think is best." 

I watch as a tear falls down her cheek and not wanting to deal with her b.s. right now, I disappear into my bedroom.  Letting myself relax, I jump on the bed with all my clothes on and close my eyes.  Knowing mom, she will come in sometime in the middle of the day drunk, so the last thing I want is to be naked.  Right before I drift off, I realize that I have to get her out of here before I bring over Lillian.

Waking up at 2, I shower and grab some lunch.  Oddly, mom is no where to be found.  That kind of worries me, but right now I have one thing on my mind only, Lillian. 

From her picture I can't tell much, just that she hasn't changed a lot from high school.  The same girl looks back at me, just older and chunkier.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I can appreciate a little plumpness in the right areas, especially if she has the same sweetness that I remember.

Everyone liked her because she wasn't stuck up.  Despite being a cheerleader, she was intelligent, funny and really nice.  Not to mention, she had a killer body.  If she is anything like that, I am going to enjoy every inch of her soft silky skin.  Hell, her husband, who ever he is has to be stupid to not appreciate her.

Just before 3, I figure out what I am going to say to her and then I call, hoping she picks up.  The phone rings twice and then I hear her voice.  It's as beautiful as it was in high school.  

"Hello?"

"Lillian, it's me Jordan.  How is your day going?"  I sit on the couch, fidgiting with my T.V. remote.  

I hear her giggle and then she answers.  "Well, I fell asleep last night in my library, so the kids were late to school this morning and I had to drive them in.  Other than that, it has been pretty boring.  What about you?"

Fighting to not just ask her, I come up with a way to figure out why her marriage is on the rocks.  I need to know why, before I break it up.  "It's been weird.  I finished a bike, sent it out and then when I got home my mom was here drunk."  What the hell?  Why did I just tell her that?  

"Drunk?  Does she live with you or you her?"  She sounds not too sure of the situation and if I don't watch it, she will hang up on me.

"Yes, she was drunk.  See, she gets married to a guy, gets drunk and then cheats on him.  After getting kicked out or beat up, she always ends up on my doorstep.  The answer is no, for her living with me.  I own a place just outside the city.  It's a short drive from my bike shop, so I can get home after a long night."

"It sounds like you work late a lot."  She sounds breathless and I just imagine my fingers running through her hair.

"Well, it's not like I have anything here that I want to come home to.  If I did, I would hire on a couple more hands and be home more often."

"I wouldn't have thought that there was much money in manufacturing bicycles.  How many do you make?"

I start laughing when I realize that she thinks I make bikes not motorcycles.  My bad I suppose, but I have to set her straight before she thinks I'm some kind of nerd.  

"I think I gave you the wrong idea.  I design and build motorcycles not bicycles.  Motorcycles can run up into the tens of thousands, depending on specifications."

She giggles again.  "Oh."

"It's O.K., I should have been more clear.  So anyway, tell me more about yourself.  Like why your marriage is on the rocks."

The line gets quiet and I have to check to make sure she didn't hang up.  "Are you sure, you really want to hear all of this?"

Wondering what could possibly be that bad, I answer.  "Yes, shoot."

I hear her take a deep breath and then she tells me.  "When I went off to college, I was supposed to become a pediatrician.  My parents soon became disappointed with me and it just went down hill from there.  I met a man in college, he was supposed to be really nice, but he ended up a douche bag.  When I went, I was a virgin and had straight A's.  By the time the first year was done, I was pregnant and failed all of my classes.  I had to quit and get married, because my parents wouldn't have a child with a kid out of wedlock.  Shame and all, you know.  Over time, I noticed that my husband only cared about my parent's money and soon he completely ignored me.  Trying to save the marriage, I ignored all his cheating and we decided to have another baby.  Now with two kids he had more of an excuse to never come home and not touch me.  Yesterday was the last straw.  At dinner, my oldest notified me that she saw dear old daddy with a whore at the local motel 6.  So, I think that covers it.  All I can say, is that when I see a handsome man, I stare and wonder what he has under the trunk."  She laughs and then gets quiet.

I hear her sigh and I just want to sweep her off her feet.  A woman doesn't ever deserve to be treated like that.  If I had a woman like her, I would make sure that at least once a day if not more, I touched her in every way possible.  Kiss her neck, fondle her, and make her scream my name.  I would know her so intimately, that she would never look at another man in her life.

Right now, I want to find her husband and beat the shit out of the dirtbag.  Get a couple of my buddies together and show him what it means to be treated like shit and forgotten about for a while.  Tie his ass up and leave him down a dirt road somewhere.

"All I can say, is a woman should never be treated that way.  Not anyone."  She doesn't say anything and I can sense that she might be crying.  "Look, I really want to take you to dinner.  Say yes and I will guarantee that we will have a good time and trust me, I would never forget about you, ever."

She answers hesitantly, "I should have known that when we were in high school, listening to my friends was a bad decision.  See, I had the biggest crush on you and my friends said you were a bad guy.  You were my first love, but when you got kicked out, it just proved them right and I decided at that moment to study and give up on men."

Hearing that, hurt deeply.  It reminded me of that time and what happened.  I got blamed for it and because I don't rat on people, I took the punishment.  Knowing that, if it wouldn't have been for that whole screwed up situation, we might have been together and her two children might have been ours.

Everything would have been different, I might have even gone back to school.  I certainly wouldn't have stopped her from becoming a doctor and we would have never been unhappy if I could have helped it.

"Lillian, we can talk about this at dinner.  I have a couple things I need to take care of first, how about I pick you up at 6?"

"Not a good idea.  My husband will be home and he is the jealous type.  He will never believe that I just happen to find an old schoolmate on the internet and we want to talk."

Not thinking about that originally, I change my plans.  "O.K., can you get out of the house at 6 and tell him you are going over to a friends for dinner to have a girls night?"

"I think that will work.  I have a friend Connie, who I routinely go out with to dinner.  Should I wear anything in particular?"

"Wear something nice.  I want you to have the night of your life, you deserve it."  Smiling, the plans formulate in my head.

"O.K."

"Tell me Connie's address, I will pick you up there."

"1815 E. Broadway St."

"O.K., got it.  I will pick you up there at 6, till then."

I hang up and start getting things ready.