5 Bikers for Valentines

“No, ma’am. Not at all. She has a trust issue. Rightfully so. If you’d been through what she has in the past few years, you’d be leery of the world too,” I said sternly.

I’d be damned if anyone was going to overlook Star’s traumatic past, and use defense mechanisms against her.

Star’s father, my brother Luke, passed away in battle when she was two. Her mother spent her time drowning her sorrows in alcohol, to the point she became neglectful and frankly a poor excuse for a mother. I didn’t care how depressed she was after my brother’s death. It was no reason for her to abandon Star.

Star was thrown into the foster care system when she was three. Most of the homes had only been temporary, so she’d been moved around seven times in the past two years until I’d taken her in only months ago. I’d only had custody of Star for the last three months. It would have been sooner had I been made aware of the matter, but I’d shut off communication from friends and family for some time following my move to Wyoming. I still felt damn guilty about not getting involved sooner, but I was there for her now. Nothing was going to change that now.

“You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry for coming across as inconsiderate. It’s just that Star’s situation is concerning and we all want the best for her. What are your thoughts about exposing her to some outside support? She seems to be struggling with reading, but that’s inconclusive. Since she won’t talk, it’s been a challenge to come to this judgement. We feel if she were to have a tutor, someone who could help her build a bit of confidence using her voice in private, then maybe she’d open up a bit here in the classroom and participate.”

“I see your point. I’ll make it work. I haven’t really read her any books, but I’ll start.”

I had just recently gotten the bedtime routine down, and it didn’t include storybooks. I told her tales about me and her dad when we were kids. She seemed to like those stories a lot, so maybe she’d enjoy a fairy tale or fable book as well.

“That would certainly help, but I’d still look for someone to tutor her. We don’t want her to fall behind.”

The idea of Star struggling through school had me worried. What she learned could take her through life, and I couldn’t let her be shortchanged. More importantly, she needed to feel confident that she was just as smart and capable as other students - if not more. That type of thinking would be a trap, leading to low self-esteem onto her adult life.

I sure as hell wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Is there anyone you can recommend?” I asked.

She reached into her desk and handed me a paper with a list of names. “These are a list of older students and teachers who don’t mind helping with tutoring. You can call and set something up if you like, just let us know when you do. We want to mark her progress. And don’t worry, Mrs. Marsh will be doing everything she can on her end to see that she keeps her levels up. She is a bit younger than the other kids, too, so that makes a difference.”

“Well, her birthday is tomorrow. She’ll be six.”

“Yes, I saw that in her file. Have the two of you made any plans?”

“I’m taking her out for pizza and ice cream."

“That sounds like a wonderful idea. Star’s lucky to have an uncle like you in her life. Without your help she would be in a far dire situation.”

I nodded and cleared my throat.

Unfortunately, luck was something Star lacked most thus far. Before Star came into my life, I was living life for myself. I was isolated from everyone and a selfish bastard telling the world to fuck off in every way imaginable.

Now, I had a bigger purpose and I wasn’t going to let my dim past screw things up for Star.

***

The next day was eventful. Star enjoyed her pizza and ice cream, but her eyes lit up when she opened the doll I had waiting for her in the house. Since she didn’t have a lot of friends or toys, I decided her birthday was the perfect time to spoil her. She’d only brought a few things with her from Chicago, and aside from furniture and some matching curtains, her room was pretty bare these last three months. When we returned home, she found the kid size kitchen set I’d left her in the living room, and she ran over and started cooking dinner for her doll.

She exhausted herself early and finally crawled up beside me on the couch and fell asleep. I carried her to her room and kissed her on the forehead before I went to bed next door.

I promised Cynthia, my elderly neighbor, that I’d bring Star over for breakfast. She was probably the closest resemblance to a local acquaintance I had in Buffalo, and lucky for me, she enjoyed our company.

Considering I was a prick to everyone around me, it was most likely Star’s company she enjoyed most. Cynthia talked about loving children and wanting grandchildren of her own. Whatever it was, I was grateful for her presence for Star’s benefit.

***

When we arrived at Cynthia’s place, Star was greeted with a blue-and-pink cake, with big icing flowers and a little plastic

tiara on top.

“That cake is huge. Did you make it yourself?” I let go of the birthday girl’s hand as she jumped up and down.

Star’s eyes grew big, and she hugged Cynthia who placed the cake on the small, round kitchen table that she’d done up with a pink tablecloth. Balloons and streamers hung over our heads, and I couldn’t help but feel gratitude for the woman’s efforts.

“Yes, sir. I used to teach cake decorating classes back in the day. There’s not a lot this old bird can’t do. I tell you, I was made to be a grandmother, but you can’t convince my kids of it. They’re so busy traveling the world and busy with careers, I’m not sure they’ll ever have kids.”