“Rachel.”
“No.”
“Listen.”
“Noah is eight.”
“I know.”
“Adam worked highway rescue.”
“I know.”
“I have seen what motorcycles do.”
“I know.”
“You do not get to make this decision because you feel indebted.”
Bear’s face hardened.
“I don’t.”
“Then why?”
He looked at sidecar.
“Because he asked.”
“That is not enough.”
“No.”
“It isn’t.”
He wiped hands.
“That’s why closed course.”
Rachel paused.
“What?”
“Not road.”
“I rented old training lot from county.”
“Safety instructor.”
“Full gear.”
“Ten miles an hour first.”
“Fifteen max.”
“You there.”
“You can say stop any second.”
Rachel stared.
Bear continued:
“If answer is still no, I scrap it.”
Something in his voice disarmed her.
Not because project elaborate.
Because he meant it.
He would scrap four weeks without resentment.
Her choice mattered.
She walked around sidecar.
Touched roll bar.
“Why this much?”
Bear shrugged.
“I overbuild.”
“That is obvious.”
Rachel looked at the small seat.
“Adam would hate this.”
“Probably.”
“He would lecture for an hour.”
“Definitely.”
She smiled despite fear.
Then cried.
Bear waited.
Rachel whispered:
“I don’t know how to be both parents.”
Bear’s expression softened.
“You don’t.”
She looked.
“You be his mom.”
“That’s already full-time.”
“What about everything Adam would have taught him?”
“You can’t become Adam.”
“Neither can I.”
“Noah has teachers.”
“Ray.”
“Ruth.”
“Your sister.”
“Me.”
“Other people.”
Rachel wiped eyes.
“I hate that I need other people.”
Bear smiled.
“Everybody does.”
“You’re one to talk.”
“Correct.”
She laughed.
Then looked at sidecar.
“One ride.”
“Closed lot.”
“Yes.”
“Full gear.”
“Yes.”
“If I hate it, done.”
“Yes.”
Noah cried when he saw sidecar.
Bear pretended not to notice.
Rachel did not.
The first ride happened Sunday morning.
Empty county training lot.
No traffic.
No audience except Rachel, Ray, Ruth, and two shop employees.
Noah wore full helmet.
Protective jacket.
Gloves.
Pants.
Boots.
Bear checked harness three times.
Noah said through helmet:
“You already checked.”
Bear said:
“Again.”
Rachel stood with arms crossed.
Terrified.
Bear walked motorcycle through first lap without starting engine.
Then started.
Slow.
Five miles an hour.
Noah laughed.
The sound carried strangely through helmet.
Bear heard.
Second lap faster.
Not much.
Third.