I didn’t understand what was happening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My dad was already standing by the front door when I reached the hallway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He wasn’t wearing his usual leather jacket.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Instead, he was holding something in his hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A small wooden box.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked at me, then at Mom.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Continue reading on next page\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n
For a second, nobody said anything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Dad?” I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He took a breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Come on, Em.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We stepped outside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The morning air was cold, and the street looked completely different from the way it usually did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Motorcycles were parked along both sides of the road.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There were people everywhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Men and women wearing leather jackets. Some had helmets tucked under their arms. Others stood quietly beside their bikes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I recognized a few of them from the photographs Dad kept in an old drawer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His motorcycle club.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But there was something strange.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nobody was laughing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nobody was revving their engines.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They were all waiting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I instinctively moved closer to Dad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One of the bikers stepped forward.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was the same man who had teased Dad about performing ballet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He took off his sunglasses.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Emily,” he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He smiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“We owe you an apology.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I blinked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“For what?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked at Dad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then back at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“For thinking we knew what mattered to your dad.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dad lowered his head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The man continued.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Your dad has spent years riding with us. We thought that was what made him happy.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He paused.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Then we saw that video from your school.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My eyes widened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You saw it?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A few bikers laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dad groaned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Oh, they definitely saw it.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I covered my face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Oh no.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One of the women near the motorcycles called out, “The pirouette was impressive!”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Everyone started laughing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even Dad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I couldn’t help laughing too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For the first time that morning, the tension disappeared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then the biker leader became serious again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He opened a saddlebag attached to his motorcycle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Inside was a stack of envelopes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“We wanted to do something for you.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He handed the first envelope to Dad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dad looked confused.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“What is this?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Open it.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dad opened the envelope.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His expression changed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“What…?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then at Mom.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn’t know what was inside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“What’s wrong?” I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dad smiled, but his eyes suddenly looked wet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“It’s not wrong.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He handed me the paper.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I read it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was a letter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At the top was the name of the motorcycle club.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Underneath was a list.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Appointments.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Transportation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Meals.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Errands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
School support.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fundraising.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“We talked to your mom,” the biker said. “We know things have been difficult.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mom nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“They offered to help with whatever they can.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stared at the crowd.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Why?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nobody answered immediately.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then Dad’s friend smiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Because you’re family.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Something inside me tightened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I had expected motorcycles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I had expected noise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I had expected some kind of dramatic biker surprise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I hadn’t expected kindness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then another biker walked forward carrying a huge cardboard box.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I’ve got something too.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He opened it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Inside was a pink ballet tutu.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Everyone burst out laughing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dad stared at it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“No.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The man grinned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Absolutely.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Dad,” I said, laughing, “you have to wear it.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Don’t encourage them.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You wore ballet shoes.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“That was different.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“How?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I had dignity.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Everyone laughed again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then the club leader raised his hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The street slowly became quiet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“We’re not here because you’re sick,” he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“We’re here because you’re Emily.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He pointed toward Dad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“And because your dad finally figured out what he’s been missing.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dad looked down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I could see he was trying not to cry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The biker continued.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“We’ve known this man for years. We’ve ridden thousands of miles together. We’ve seen him in storms, accidents, bad roads, good times…”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He smiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“But we’ve never seen him happier than he is now.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dad wiped his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I reached for his hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He squeezed mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then came the biggest surprise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The club leader turned toward the motorcycles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Okay, everybody.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Engines started.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One after another.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The street filled with the deep rumble of dozens of bikes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mom covered her ears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dad shook his head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You guys are ridiculous.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The leader shouted over the engines.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“That’s what family does!”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then the motorcycles began moving.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Slowly, carefully, they formed a line down the street.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I watched them disappear around the corner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For a few seconds, our house became quiet again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dad sat down on the front steps.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I sat beside him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Did you know they were coming?” I asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“No.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Really?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Really.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Then why did Mom look so worried?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dad looked toward Mom.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She smiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I wasn’t worried,” she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You looked terrified.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dad laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I leaned my head against his shoulder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Can I ask you something?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Anything.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Are you going to keep riding with them?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He was quiet for a moment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then he nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Probably.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“But…”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He turned toward me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I don’t want you to ever think that means I’m choosing the bikes over you.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I don’t.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked relieved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I love riding,” he said. “But I finally understand something.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“What?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Being your dad isn’t something I can fit into the spaces left over after everything else.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He paused.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“It’s supposed to be one of the things I make time for first.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I didn’t know what to say.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
So I hugged him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He hugged me back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And for a little while, neither of us said anything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Later that afternoon, Dad came into my room carrying two cups of hot chocolate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He handed one to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Movie?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Only if you don’t pick another motorcycle documentary.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked offended.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I have excellent taste.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You watched three hours of people rebuilding an engine.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“It was educational.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“It was boring.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then he sat beside me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at the wooden box he’d brought outside that morning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I hadn’t asked about it again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Dad?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Yeah?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“What’s in the box?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked at it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For the first time all day, his smile disappeared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He picked it up and placed it carefully on the bed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I’ve been meaning to give this to you.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He opened the lid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Inside was a small silver key attached to a handwritten tag.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stared at it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“What is it?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Dad swallowed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“It’s the key to my motorcycle.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at him, confused.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Why are you giving it to me?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Because that motorcycle has taken me to a lot of places.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He smiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“But none of those places matter as much as where I’m going next.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Where?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He reached into the box and pulled out a folded piece of paper.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I opened it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was a map.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There were several places circled in red.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at Dad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“What’s this?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“A road trip.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My eyes widened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“With me?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“With you.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“But Mom\u2014”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“She’s coming too.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then I noticed something written at the bottom of the map.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Three words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Our first adventure.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n I looked at Dad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “Are you sure?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n He nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n “I’m sure.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then he added quietly:<\/p>\n\n\n\n “And this time, Emily, I’m not going anywhere without you.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n I smiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n For the first time since my diagnosis, I wasn’t thinking about hospitals, appointments, or everything that might happen tomorrow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I was thinking about a map.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A motorcycle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n My family.<\/p>\n\n\n\n And a road that hadn’t been traveled yet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I didn’t know where that road would take us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But I knew one thing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n My dad was finally riding beside me.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I didn’t understand what was happening. My dad was already standing by the front door when I reached the hallway.…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":8647,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-8648","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/tbdig.com\/benetv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8648","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/tbdig.com\/benetv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/tbdig.com\/benetv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tbdig.com\/benetv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tbdig.com\/benetv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8648"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/tbdig.com\/benetv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8648\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8649,"href":"https:\/\/tbdig.com\/benetv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8648\/revisions\/8649"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tbdig.com\/benetv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/8647"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/tbdig.com\/benetv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8648"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tbdig.com\/benetv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=8648"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tbdig.com\/benetv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=8648"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}