Biker's Virgin

“Hey,” he said when he saw me, his voice sounding subdued. He looked pale, even though he’d gotten a lot of sun the other day when we’d gone to the lake.

“Hi,” I said. “You feeling okay?”

He stifled a yawn with the back of his hand. “Actually, not really,” he said. “It was a struggle to get through the day today.” He coughed into his elbow. “You might want to stay back; I must’ve picked up some sort of cold or something.”

He made his way over to the clipboard to sign Declan out, fumbling twice with the pen before he was finally able to sign his name.

“You’re not looking so good,” I said, though I stopped short of actually putting my hand to his forehead to feel it. “Why don’t you just go home and get into bed? I’ll bring Declan home later. I get off in about 45 minutes, and I’ll bring him to the playground or something, that way you can get some rest.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

“It’s not a problem? I can probably manage lying on the couch while he plays with LEGOs or something.”

“It’s really not a problem at all. You should go home and get some rest.”

“Hi, Dad,” Declan said, coming over. “Is it time to go? I don’t want to leave just yet.”

Cole managed a tired smile. “Well, then, bud, I guess it’s your lucky day; you can stay a little longer and then Allie will bring you home, okay? I think I’m starting to get a little cold or something, so I’m just going to go home and lie down for a little bit.”

“You’re sick?”

“Just a cold.”

Declan nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I hope you feel better soon. I hate being sick.”

“I’ll leave his car seat by your car,” Cole said.

“That was very neighborly of you,” Kris said after Cole had left. “It’s good you can help him out like that. It’s definitely harder for the single fathers than the single mothers; they just don’t seem to have the same sort of support network.”

“I don’t mind at all,” I said.

Declan was more than happy to play with his friends for the next 45 minutes, and I could tell that he felt like it was a special treat that he got to be the last kid there. After I was done, Declan and I went out to my car. I secured his car seat in the back, and he climbed in, proudly showing me how he was able to do the buckles himself.

“Are we going home right away?” he asked. “Can we go somewhere else first?”

“Sure,” I said as I started the car. “Did you have anywhere in mind?”

“Ice cream?”

It certainly was plenty hot—with a touch of humidity—for ice cream. “Sounds like a plan,” I said. “I could go for a twist soft serve.”

So we drove to town and went to the Cream Bar, which had 35 different flavors of soft serve ice cream. Declan got a chocolate with gummy bears, and I ordered a twist in a cone, which was my pe

rennial favorite, though I made a mental note to come back here and try some of the other flavors.

We sat at one of the picnic tables, under the shade of the umbrella. After we were finished with our ice creams, we went to the market. The air conditioning was on, and it was cool, dry, and pleasant to walk down the narrow aisles, looking at the different stuff.

“We should get something for Dad,” Declan said.

“I was just thinking that. What’s something you like to have when you’re sick?”

“Candy?”

I laughed. “I don’t think we’re going to get Dad candy. Maybe some ginger ale, though. I always had ginger ale when I was sick.”

We got a bottle of ginger ale, some crackers, and then we passed the hot food bar. There were three different soups, and even though it felt way too hot for me to eat something like that, I knew that if Cole wasn’t feeling well, something like chicken noodle soup would taste good, even if it was the middle of summer.