Chapter 2

We found a small abandoned auto garage with an attached office on Main Street, tracked down the realtor, who’d said it came with the house and lot behind it, and made a deal.

The house, a two bedroom bungalow on one floor with a rose-covered front yard and weed-infested back, faced First Street. A driveway skirted the house and lot, ending at the back of the garage on Main. I could get my Fit and my Suzuki into the house’s miniscule garage and had the public garage’s one bay for my bicycle repair and sales business.

For six months, my new home was a nostalgic resting place in small town America. Charlie and I could sit in the doorway of the garage and imagine Fourth of July parades, farmers’ markets, and Christmas decorations. Charlie dreamed of running wild and free with kids waving sparklers or slipping and sliding along ice-covered sidewalks.

Then about a year ago in the spring, one of the big city network stations did a feature on the “best little towns in California” that were affordable and ready to be developed into “livable bits of romantic nostalgia” whatever that meant. To Charlie and me, it meant new neighbors from the city. And lots of them.

Suddenly, we had a thriving five and dime on Main Street, along with a branch bank, a couple of trendy coffee shops, a refurbished grocery store, an expanded pharmacy, and a lot of other shops that had been closed for decades, including Rick’s Rack, the bakery across the way.

Charlie had moved his base of operation back a few feet to get out of the sun, so I was blindsided by the baker walking up to me. Usually Charlie would cough or alert me instead of making me look like the village idiot.

“Hey, uh, hi. Daniel?”

He was staring at me strangely, like I had two heads or something. I didn’t blame him. My other head was lifting to greet him, since I seemed to be tongue-tied.

I straightened, started to stick out my hand, noticed he hadn’t raised his, and instead stood taller.

“Yeah, uh, call me Dan or Danny.” I cleared my throat and willed my second head to shut up and keep down. “What can I do for you?”

“You sell bikes? Motor bikes as well as, um, peddling bikes?”

“Yup, that’s me.” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder at the pile of bicycle strays waiting to be repaired and either sold or given away to charity. “I deal mostly in used bikes, but you can even buy a brand new one from me if you’re so inclined.”

Shit. I sounded older than Charlie. I’d definitely been spending too much time with him.

“Oh, yeah, good.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “I’ve got a niece and nephew who are coming to, uh, visit, maybe move here to live. I’d like to get them bikes so they can get some exercise.”

I nodded. There was something big he wasn’t telling me, but I let it slide. We didn’t really know each other.

“So when do you need these bikes?”

“Uh.” He reddened. “This afternoon?”

Charlie barked a laugh. I turned to shush him. He looked back innocently, like he hadn’t made a peep.

“No problem.” I gestured over my shoulder. “Want to come see what I’ve got?”

I could sense Charlie holding back another hoot of laughter, but fortunately for him, he stayed quiet. The two motorcycles for sale were to his left, the rack of bicycles to the right. He knew we’d be walking his way, so he sat up a little straighter and watched us with a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh, yeah, and another thing?” The baker hesitated after I nodded. He drew in a lungful. “I’m Rick. I don’t think we’ve ever really met. You don’t come into the bakery very often.”

I couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or a complaint. Was he saying I looked fit and he was attracted to me? Or was he saying I thought I was too good to eat his buns?

Sixteen took over and I almost giggled out loud.

Charlie cleared his throat, and we turned to him.

“Oh, yeah, and this is Charlie.”

Rick nodded to Charlie, who grinned back.

As I herded Rick toward the bike rack, Charlie got up stiffly and moved away, like he was shy or something. I was shocked. I would have thought he’d have been excited to check out Rick. Maybe he was feeling off. I’d have to make sure he was okay at lunch. Chatting with Rick while smirking should have been one of the highlights of Charlie’s day.

Rick looked over the array of bikes, glanced at me, and then shrugged.