Without The Grace

Cliffs and Deals

We rode for a while before my curiosity got the best of me.

"Where are we going?!" I yelled.

He didn't answer. I didn't know if it was because he didn't hear me or because he didn't want to answer. I groaned and leaned onto his back.

I rested my head and closed my eyes just enjoying his warmth thinking back to the first time I had actually ridden on a motorcycle.

It was a few years after my mother passed away. It was her birthday and my father wasn't taking it well. I'd been twelve at the time and I remembered watching him from the window of the attic as he wheeled his motorcycle out of the garage and took it down the street with hopes that I wouldn't hear him. 

That night, I'd snuck out and followed him. At the speed he was riding, I couldn't exactly keep up with him, but I knew where he was going. There was a pub five miles from the house that he always went to, thinking that I didn't know. 

I knew that it was dangerous for me to be out on foot late at night, and five miles was a long way to walk, but I knew that he would be getting drunk so I figured I could drive us back home. 

When we first moved in with the stepmother, she'd take her daughters to a pageant every weekend, whether they were in it or not. Those weekends were sacred for my father and I. We would take advantage of our time together by visiting places like museums and amusement parks. Some days, we would even stay home just baking and cooking all day, or watching a movie. 

Sometimes we would just sit there talking about mom; we would look through pictures and watch old videos, and a lot of times, he would cry. 

Those were also the days that he let me drive his motorcycle along the back roads near the house. Weekends with my father had been the best days of my life.

I remembered him being so angry to see me at the pub. He had already downed four or five drinks by the time I'd gotten there. My  appearance had sobered him up only a bit and it had been easy for me to force him to let me drive home.

The next morning I'd been in a world of trouble, but it was worth it to see him home, alive and well.

"About time." I said when Kenneth finally came to a stop. I sat up so that could he dismount. "Where are we?" I looked around. We seemed to be on a cliff.

I could see the sun perfectly from where we were. It seemed so close. I stood there for a while in awe of the large orb, thinking about just how small we were in comparison. 

Kenneth took my hand in his and we walked to the edge of the cliff.  Down below was what looked like an abandoned beach. Trash and twigs littered the dirty looking sand.

The wind whipped my hair and I stepped away from the edge pulling along with me. 

"It's beautiful out here." I told him.

He smiled. "I know. I stumbled across it this weekend."

"When you needed space?" I asked sourly thinking back to Friday when he told me he needed some alone time. I'd been scared he was breaking up with me.

He shrugged and peeled himself off of his bike. He approached me and wrapped his arms around me from behind.

I leaned into him, warmed by his nice scent. Coconut and vanilla.

"So," I began. "Did you just bring me out here to starve me or did you think food would magically appear?" I asked.

I could practically hear the smirk in his response. "Turn around." He whispered in my ear.