“The farm?”
“Yeah. We can go to the farm from there.” She looks confused, so I add, “They have rides, sis. It’s like a carnival.” Because maybe she’s not sure what a biker swap meet is.
She should be. She has to have gone to hundreds of them with Spencer and Ronnie over her short life.
“I can look at all the bike parts and you can go on rides and… I’ll win you a teddy bear from the midway. And we can watch the band from Grand Lake. That sounds fun, right?”
“Hmm.” She considers this new offer. “A big teddy bear?”
“Sure. Why not. Anything you want.”
“OK. I’ll go to the swap meet with you.”
“Perfect. Take that bowl downstairs while I jump in the shower. And then…” I have a new idea. “Then… we’ll take the Gramps bike to the meet and you can ride in the sidecar.”
“I can?”
I should’ve opened with this offer. Now I’m stuck winning her a fucking teddy bear. It’s probably gonna cost me a hundred bucks. “Sure. Why not. It’s a Shrike Bike, after all. Totally legit for kids.”
“Cool!” She runs out of my room with her SpaghettiOs bowl, and I sigh, then swing my legs out of bed and head for the shower.
CHAPTER FOUR - VIC
My sidecar partner giggles the entire ride up to Bellvue. She has the biggest smile on her face. I almost can’t stop looking at her. And she is damn cute too. I found a bunch of cool Shrike shit leftover from when other princesses were this age, so the sis is sporting a mini pair of brown Frye boots and a pair of ripped-up jeans, plus a pair of suede fringe chaps that I’m pretty sure are meant for pony-riding and not bike-riding, but who cares. They’re adorable. A tiny black leather biker jacket that Vann painted with unicorns for someone’s birthday party pulls it all together. And she’s got a cool kiddie helmet on too. This one is white with all kinds of Sick Boyz stickers on it.
The moment we pull into the field where the swap meet is taking place, people start snapping pics of us. Even though I complain about this bike because of the stupid sidecar, it’s still very fucking cool. Spencer made it, after all. It’s got a dragon theme going. So the front fender and headlight look like the head, then there’s scales all down the fat tank, and the back fender has a spoiler that looks like a tail. It’s way over the top even without the sidecar—which is painted to look like an egg—and scooting around town on it is just too much for me.
But we’re at a swap meet now, and these people are eating it up. Especially with the sis all dressed up like a Sick Girl.
This makes me laugh. I wish some of those nieces wanted to be artists instead of pony riders. Sick Girlz has a nice ring to it. We could open another shop one day. All girl artists. That would be cool.
But… they just aren’t into it.
This one, though. She has a sketchbook. So maybe I can get her interested in tattooing. Otherwise, Sick Boyz might die out. None of us have kids. We’re all relying on Ronnie to keep it going, I guess.
I called Bobby before we left, so he follows us in on his bike. We find a spot to park near the entrance, then spend five minutes letting people take pics of us before heading towards the action. Because I’m all decked out in biker attire too.
“Cute!” one lady says. “You two are adorable! And you can definitely tell she’s your daughter. She looks just like you!”
“Niece, actually.” I chuckle. “But yeah. My sister has a whole pack of them and they all look just like this.”
Princess is looking around like this is most amazing scene ever, not paying any attention to the people snapping pictures. The lady snaps another pic, but then her man tells her to leave us alone and pulls her away.
“Ooooo!” Princess has a hold of my hand and she’s jumping up and down as she points to the rollercoaster. It’s not big, but it’s not really for the little kids, either. “Can we go on that?”
“I dunno.”
“Please! Please, please, please!”
“Let her do the rides, Vic,” Bobby says. “Give her a wristband and set her loose. That’s what I do with my kids.”
I mean… I want to do that. I do. I want to get some beer, and wander the aisles looking at chrome, and maybe find a girl to hook up with.
But she’s my niece. And even though this is hometown turf, and almost nothing ever happens out here as far as crime goes, I can’t just turn her loose with all these people. This isn’t the Moran family reunion. This is the general public.