Its tires had been wiped clean.
The silver bell caught the afternoon sunlight.
He stopped beside it.
For a moment, he remembered the little girl gripping the handlebars and offering to lower the price.
The thought still hurt.
He approached the door.
Then knocked.
Inside, footsteps sounded.
The door opened.
The widow stood there wearing jeans and a plain blue shirt.
She looked healthier than she had three days earlier.
But the exhaustion remained around her eyes.
When she saw him, her expression tightened.
"Hello."
The old biker removed his cap.
"Afternoon, ma'am."
She looked toward his empty hands.
Then noticed the folder.
"What is that?"
He swallowed.
"Something I should've brought years ago."
The woman said nothing.
He continued.
"I read your letter."
Her expression changed.
For several moments, she stared.
Then asked quietly, "After all this time?"
He nodded.
"Yes."
She looked away.
The old man waited.
Finally, he said, "I brought some photographs."
She glanced toward him.
"And some stories."
The woman's eyes filled.
He held out the folder.
"They're about your husband."
For a moment, she did not move.
Then slowly reached for it.
Her fingers trembled as she opened the cover.
The first photograph showed her husband standing beside a motorcycle, smiling broadly.
She drew a sharp breath.
"Oh."
The old biker lowered his head.
She turned another page.
Her husband laughing beside a diner.
Then another.
Standing with the other riders beneath an enormous highway sign.
Then another.
Working beneath the hood of a truck.
The woman pressed one hand against her mouth.
"I've never seen these."
The old biker nodded.
"I know."
She stared at the photographs.
For several moments, neither spoke.
Then she looked up.
Her eyes were wet.
"Why now?"
The old man swallowed.
"Because I should've done it when you asked."
She stared.
He continued.
"And because your daughter deserves to know more about him than a picture by the door."
The woman lowered her gaze.
He shifted uncomfortably.
"I wrote you a letter too."
She looked toward the folder.
"It's in there."
For a moment, she seemed uncertain whether she wanted to read it.
Then she closed the folder.