stretch out. My first patient isn’t until nine-thirty. Do you have a motorcycle to go along with that get up or are you just a leather daddy looking for his little?”
Jeremiah threw back his head and laughed. “I have a bike, thanks. This isn’t a kink.”
She dropped a twenty on the bar and put the mugs in the sink. “I’m locking the door on the way out. We’ll get your bike and head to the clinic.”
“You live at the clinic?” He watched as she clicked off the long row of lights and used an Allen wrench to unlock the push bar of the main door.
“Above it. Gen’s restaurant is kitty-corner to the clinic. She lives above her shop, too.” Eden slammed the door closed and tried the handle several times. Satisfied it was locked, she turned to him and asked, “Shall we?”
He chuckled. “You know, none of this would have ever happened in California.”
“Yeah, that’s right, you live in the Golden State. Nice place to live?”
He nodded as they walked to his bike. “It is. I have a practice out there.”
“Ah, a doctor to the stars.” She nodded and whistled when they turned the corner. “Oh, man, she’s a beauty. Custom, and I love the paint job.”
“You know bikes?” He smiled at his beauty, impressed that the woman recognized a custom bike when she saw one. The black to purple ombre formed the background for a white wolf on a snowy cliff. Visually stunning, he’d jumped on the artist’s recommendation. His fenders had the same background, with white pinstriping and a wolf’s eye on each.
“My brothers and father owned a service station. When the big chain gas stations moved in, they transitioned to an automobile and motorcycle repair shop. My older brother branched out into custom-built bikes.”
“Back in Selma?” He stopped beside his motorcycle.
“That’s right. Not as affluent as your folks in Birmingham, but they’re getting by.” She stopped him from getting on the bike. “If you start that thing up, you’ll wake everyone in ten square miles. It isn’t far. How about we just walk it?”
“All right.” He grabbed his handlebars, righted the motorcycle, and lifted the kickstand. Pushing the heavy bike through the deep gravel wasn’t fun, but once they hit the blacktop it was easier.
“You were telling me about your people?”
“Was I?” He glanced over at her and smiled.
“You were going to,” she acknowledged.
He chuckled; the little blue-eyed blonde had spunk. “My mom and dad still live there. I’m sure you know Gen’s story. I left as soon as I graduated high school, and except for mandatory appearances, I’ve avoided returning.”
“Mandatory like weddings?” Eden glanced at him.
“Like funerals. My grandparents.”
“Damn. Sorry.”
“They lived a long, wonderful life. My grandfather was the one who encouraged me striking out on my own. He and my father.”
“My mee-maw told me I needed to find a husband and have babies instead of going to school.”
“Ah, a traditional.”
“Nah, she just didn’t think I had a brain in my head and thought my dad’s money was better spent on a wedding.”
Jeremiah barked out another laugh. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever talked to someone like you before.”
“What? No other nosey women in your life?” She walked backward as he pushed his motorcycle.
“No. The only women in my life are my sister and my mother.”
“Oh, dear. You’re not damaged are you, Doctor?”
The humorless chuckle pinned him back in that hallway, but he pushed through the memory. “Actually, I’m a psychiatrist, and I can tell you we are all damaged to some degree.”
“Ah, so not a doctor to the stars, rather a shrink to the stars.” Eden pointed to a two-story building. “This is us. That’s Gen. She parks behind her building where she has a nice yard, storage shed, and a huge smoker and barbeque. Bring your bike back here.” She walked down a dark alley to the back of the building. He dropped his kickstand and settled his bike on the only patch of gravel not covered in weeds. “Up here.” Eden trotted up a set of old wooden stairs. They creaked miserably when he climbed them.
“How old are these stairs?” He winced as one creaked loud enough that Eden turned around to look at him and then the steps.
“Probably as old as the building, so… ancient?”
“You should have the boards replaced.” Another loud creak rent the air, confirming his assessment.
“I rarely use these steps. There is an interior set from my apartment to the clinic.” She opened the screen door and then