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spin... spin.. spin
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Beside me with little effort cranks spin as the beauty on the pedals sits upright no hands on the bars chewing a fingernail. Her blonde braid reaches near her saddle. She spits a nail and says, “I just want a lad who would rob a jewellery store for a diamond to place on my hand. You know what I mean? A true real love. Like the kind that armed security guards doesn’t discourage. I mean, is that too much to ask for?”

“Well, it’s actually kinda a lot to ask. A felony and all.”

Hands on hips she turns to me and wrinkles her nose. “Nah… seems reasonable.”

I laugh and drop a chain onto a higher gear and pop my butt off a saddle. Truth is I’m just not into the conversation tho I love the person talking. Glancing to my right, I see hands drop to bars in response but it is too late. My effort creates a gap.

A few seconds later on my left my friend is back. “Hey Mrs. Sprints A Lot, what is the deal?”

“I don’t know Emm, it’s just guys like you and sure most wouldn’t risk twenty years in prison to marry you but sometimes it’s hard for me to even get a date.”

A hand is on my shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye I watch in admiration how effortlessly my companion rides a bike. As if she was born on the saddle. “Shit Sprockles, lads like you. It’s just well you aren’t always the easiest person to talk to. Not criticism but I mean you get it.”

I do of course “get it” my mood is usually calm, quiet and even from time to time what some would call stoic. It’s hard for men to deal with when they don’t know me.

“No worries, what about your Doc?” I say referring to the handsomest man we know. A young doctor who spends a lot of time at the bike shop where Emma works trying to just be around her.

“Hmmm… he’s lit. I don’t know if he’s dedicated to the cause tho.”

“The cause? What do you mean?” I ask genuinely confused.

“Well, I don’t just get with lads or whatever you call it. I mean he needs to be about forever. You know knock over a jewellers shop sorta, forever love.” She smiles and laughs and under sunglasses winks. The raise of her right cheeks giving her eye movement away.

“I think he can buy the ring. But I follow you.”

“It’s not the ring. The deal is what would he do just to make sure I smile?”

The road narrows and begins to climb up a small pass. I sit the wheel behind the strong legs of my riding companion. After three switchbacks as tarmac levels and the sun glares off the black surface Emma says, “You know he asked me to dinner twice?”

“Why didn’t you go?”

“Want to make sure he’d ask me a third time. It’s dumb and foolish I know but I like him Rache. Maybe more than I should. I’m scared.”

I ponder the statement as we ride a few miles silently. Side by side we pace each other in harmony. Me thinking while Emma takes photos from the saddle. My mind drifts from the statements, once again focussing on how effortlessly she rides. It’s as if the bike just does what it should while she fidgets with camera and jersey pockets.

“You want a Cliff bar?” Emm asks offering me an open mint chip treat.

“Sure. Hey would you rob a jewellery store for a ring for him?”

“Oh hell no, but I think I’d stop him from doing it for me. That’s about all a fella could expect. Right?” She offers with a laugh and huge smile.

“In that case Emma don’t wait for him to ask a third time. He might not do it. Ask him.”

A perfect smile reveals white teeth that have never needed straightening. “Haha. He will ask but I promise I won’t make him do it a fourth time.”

Several years later on a cold rainy morning in December my phone rings. On the other end a smile greets me. “She’s perfect Sprockles, absolutely flawless. Ten toes, I counted them and ten fingers. I know… I know it is silly but it was my biggest worry and.. and she’s perfect! I’ll send you a picture.”

“Congratulations Emma, of course she’s perfect she’s just like her mother!” Knowing they had been sorting through several names I had to ask. “What’s her name Emm, what did you guys decide?”

“Named her after my best friend, Rachel Anne.”

My throat swells a little and I don’t find words. Mind races through the past years, all the time we spent together and all the silly moments. I suddenly wish I had been there for the birth. Nearing tears then in a whisper Emm continues, “Thanks for showing me a crazy kinda love. The sort that made me know my husband was good enough. We are so happy to have baby Rachel.”

“Emm, I don’t know what to say.”

“Best thing to do is convince me I can loose the baby weight!” She says as my phone fills with familiar laughter.

“At least your boobs are bigger.”

“And my hips and…. well everything!” Emma says laughing in a way that assures me she doesn’t really care about the baby weight.

We laugh and talk until I’m nearly late for work. And as the call ends I am aware that true love exists in a lot of forms and ways. Stepping into a cold Irish rain my heart keeps me warm enough there is no need to pull up a collar. I feel like I’m a small part of a common everyday miracle, as if I was just given a gift finer than the most sparkling thing that can be heisted.
 

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Spin Spin Spin
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4,194 Posts
Your writing is like the last half of your last sentence.....the as if part. A joy to read as always. Most of my good friends like that are afar these days so I ride alone almost always. Me and the bike with lots of meditation and pedaling down memory lanes.....
 
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