Hunter - Big Girls & Bad Boys (27 page)

“What’s that big bike thing in North Dakota?” I asked.

“It’s called Sturgis and it’s in South Dakota. It’s also next summer,” Dutch informed me.

“I can wait. I want to go there,” I said.

“You got it,” Dutch said.

“So, do we have to wait to get married? I mean can we do it sooner rather than later?” I asked.

“Hey now, you’re starting to freak me out. You’re coming on too strong,” Dutch teased. I slugged him.

“Very funny,” I replied.

“Hey, the sooner the better. I want you living with me, a ring around your finger and a ball and chain around my ankle and I want it now,” Dutch said. I rolled my eyes.

“You’re just going to use the ball and chain to tie me up so you can do whatever it is you want to me,” I told him. Dutch laughed softly.

“You’re learning,” he said. We agreed to start planning the wedding right away. I was feeling a little overwhelmed. It was exciting and a little scary but in a good way. Exhilarating like riding behind Dutch on his bike, exposing myself and letting Sheila drink Kahlua from my breasts or letting Dutch tie me up with my pantyhose. I felt silly for letting my fears get the best of me and I vowed never to do it again. The consequences usually weren’t all that serious, despite the crazed, knife wielding biker, and sometimes they were just part of the fun.

Almost as much fun as planning the wedding with Dutch was telling Sheila. I made Dutch promise not to tell her about our reconciliation or the wedding plans. I wanted to do that myself. I called her the next evening and told her we should go out and talk. She eagerly agreed, probably thinking I was rethinking my position and that she could help push me in the right direction. I decided I wouldn’t string her along for long, but I was going to string her along.

“I’m glad you invited me out, Shauna. I miss you, you know that, right?” Sheila said after we found a booth in the sports bar, ordered a couple of beers and a Buffalo chicken pizza and some wings.

“I miss you and Locke,” I said.

“What about Dutch?” she asked just as I figured she would.

“Look, Sheila, I didn’t ask you out to rehash that. I was hoping you and I could still be friends. I talked with Dutch. I’m not his girlfriend anymore,” I said leaving out a few vital details.

“I’m sorry. You need to do what you need to do. It’s too bad, though. You and Dutch made a good couple and...well, I guess it doesn’t matter what I think,” Sheila said obviously upset. I just couldn’t be mean. The break up really bothered her. She loved Dutch like a brother and was a good friend to me. I had to let her in on the good news.

“I’m glad to hear you say that. Dutch and I both agreed the relationship wasn’t working,” I said and Sheila nodded before I continued, “We decided that things would be much better if I was his old lady and we shacked up together.” It took a moment for that to sink in but when it did, Sheila’s eyes got big and her smile even bigger.

“You’re a bitch!” she shouted as she began to scream and giggle. Then she got up and literally danced on her seat. Half the bar was staring at the crazy redhead shaking her thing and squealing like a schoolgirl.

“Get down! Geez, you’re fucking crazy,” I said and Sheila slid back onto her seat.

“You had me going. You’re really back together? When is the wedding? I’m going to kill Dutch for not telling me,” Sheila said.

“Down, girl! I made Dutch promise not to say anything. We only got back together last night. You’re the first to know. We’re working on the wedding. It’s going to be at The Oasis and you’re going to be my maid of honor is all we know so far. That is if you want to be,” I said dropping the next bomb.

“Really? I’ll gladly be your maid of honor. Damn, I hate you. You’re making me cry,” Sheila said and carefully wiped away her tears so as not to mess up her mascara.

“Really. I’m going to be in white leather and I was thinking you’d look good in red. Dutch is going to ask Locke to be his best man and they’ll wear black,” I told her. She started to cry again.

“That’s so awesome. I’m so happy for you two. I’m just plain fucking happy. I have my best friends back together,” Sheila said and then I began to cry.

“You mean that? I think of you as my best friend too, you and Dutch. Locke too,” I said. Just then, the pizza and wings showed up and we both wiped away tears and tried to compose ourselves as the waitress served us.

“She’s getting married,” Sheila said to explain the waterworks.

“Oh, congrats!” the girl said.

“Thanks,” I replied. She smiled at us and left Sheila and me alone.

“Yes, I mean it. You’re my best friend, Shauna. Now let’s eat before we end up sobbing like fools,” Sheila told me. I smiled at her and grabbed a big slice of pizza and a few wings. Sheila did the same and she never stopped smiling. I wasn’t doing this for her but I was glad she was happy. So was I. Again, I felt silly for doing what I had done. How did I forget so easily how much I enjoyed Dutch, Sheila and Locke? How did I forget how much fun I had with them and how good they made me feel?

We left a pile of wing bones on the table, but only half the pizza was gone. We got a box so Sheila could feed Locke when she got home but we weren’t ready to go just yet. We ordered two more beers and talked some more about the wedding. Sheila had some good ideas for our dresses, or rather our outfits. Dutch was going to love the way I looked if we could pull it off. However, Sheila was more interested in her role, specifically my bachelorette party.

“I’m thinking we get all dressed up, grab some dinner, like steaks or barbeque, then hit a strip club and get wild,” she said. A strip club? That sounded like Sheila.

“We’re going to get in trouble, aren’t we?” I asked.

“Oh yeah!” Sheila replied and we both giggled. It sounded like fun. However, Sheila had another duty as my maid of honor, though it wasn’t traditional.

“So, as my maid of honor, you get the privilege of helping me move,” I said and her smile disappeared.

“Oh, I don’t do heavy lifting. How about the boys move you and I’ll help you pack,” she said. I hadn’t thought of that.

“Great idea. Why have a big, burly fiancé if you’re not going to use him and his friend as pack animals?” I observed. Sheila nodded.

“Exactly! You don’t want to break a nail or something,” she said and we both giggled.

>>O<<

Sheila came over every night that week to help me pack. I couldn’t take most of my furniture to Dutch’s house, but he did have a storeroom for the stuff that wouldn’t fit in the small studio above his shop. I set up a yard sale the following Saturday that Sheila and I would run while Dutch and Locke moved all the boxes Sheila and I had packed.

“Sex toys...,” Sheila said as she closed up a box and marked it with a Sharpie.

“What?” I said poking my head out of the closet as what she just said sank in.

“Just marking this box,” she said innocently. I got up and walked out to find her grinning and the drawer I kept my small collection of vibrators in empty. Oops!

“I...uh...,” I stammered but Sheila showed me the box and it read “bedroom” instead. She laughed.

“Anything else you want to pack yourself before I get to it?” she asked me.

“I’m so embarrassed,” I told her.

“Don’t be. You’re an amateur. I keep my dirty toys in a foot locker in the closet and I’m running out of room,” she said. I was still embarrassed but whatever. That’s what I loved about Sheila, along with Dutch and Locke for that matter. They accepted me as I was. They didn’t judge me or look down their noses at me. They were honest too. I could hear Becky telling me how gross my vibrators were but I’d bet my next paycheck she had a drawer full of her own. She would never cop to it, however, for fear of being judged and in her circles, she would be.

That Saturday morning, Locke and Dutch showed up at six o’clock in Locke’s truck. I got permission from the manager of the apartment complex for them to use a maintenance road to get closer to my apartment building. After they moved my furniture to Dutch’s shop for the sale later that morning, they began loading boxes and my smaller things. Sheila and I left my apartment to go sell my furniture and assorted belongings that I didn’t need any more and left Dutch and Locke to the heavy lifting.

Sheila and I relaxed in the cool morning air, sipping coffee and letting the sun warm us as we met the garage sale crowd at Dutch’s shop, my new home. Every forty-five minutes or so, the boys would appear with another truckload. On their third trip, Locke walked by me with a box and said, “Sex toys, huh?”

I looked at him and then at Sheila, “I’m going to kill you!”

“Don’t sweat it. That box is full of books. Locke, the box that says “bedroom” is the one with the sex toys,” Sheila told her husband and they both laughed.

“That makes sense. This box is heavy like it’s full of Sheila’s collection,” Locke said and now I laughed. Sheila joined me.

“Back to work, man slave,” Sheila said dismissing her husband. Dutch walked out of his shop as Locke walked away.

“Who labeled those boxes? I opened the one that read, “bondage gear,” out of curiosity and it was full of sweaters,” Dutch asked. Sheila burst out laughing as I shook my head. She was enjoying her little game.

“Sheila!” Locke playfully admonished his wife as he disappeared into the shop. Dutch rolled his eyes.

“That makes sense,” Dutch said and then asked, “So where is the bondage gear?” Now both Sheila and I laughed as Dutch winked at us. I made a nice wad of cash selling my stuff and I bought dinner and drinks to thank everyone for helping. It felt nice to be back in the groove again. I resolved again to never let my fears take over again. I was going to embrace the fear instead.

It was Saturday and we all had a few too many beers, but none of us was in the mood to get in too much trouble. Besides, I wanted to go home, my new home. Hell, I just loved saying that. “C’mon, daddy. Let’s go home,” I said after my third beer. Dutch assumed I was tired.

“Yeah, you have a lot of shit. I’m going to be sore tomorrow,” Dutch said rubbing his shoulder dramatically.

“All those sex toys took it out of me too,” Locke continued. I kicked Sheila under the table playfully.

“Now you know why nobody asks me to help them move,” she joked. We got up and said our goodbyes after we got to the parking lot. Dutch and I were on his bike, as usual, but Locke and Sheila were in Locke’s pickup. We watched them drive off as we put on our helmets and then Dutch fired up his bike. I climbed behind him and off we went. It was getting colder at night as winter approached but I still enjoyed riding with Dutch.

I held Dutch tight as we rode back to his shop and my new home. I looked over his shoulder when I could manage but when my cheeks and nose got too cold I hid behind Dutch. I didn’t know how he did it. I guess he was tougher than I was. We were home before I knew it and I wasn’t chilled to the bone but I was getting there.

“What do you do in the winter to get around?” I asked.

“I ride,” Dutch said.

“Don’t you freeze your ass off?” I asked. Dutch laughed as he led me inside.

“Eh, a little. I like to ride,” he said and then surprised me, “We could take my car next time, if you get cold.”

“You mean my car?” I asked. I didn’t think Dutch had a car.

“No, mine. I have a ’66 Chevelle out back,” Dutch told me as he followed me up the stairs to our little studio.

“Why don’t I know about that?” I asked him.

“You never asked,” he told me. That was true but what was I supposed to do, play twenty questions? I shook my head but Dutch added, “I know, I need to talk more.”