Andrea Millhouse Pt. 04

Ricky released me. A tear went down his cheek as he looked at me

through his sunglasses. Wiping the tear, he then flicked it away like

a swatted mosquito and took me in a bear hug.

"Tim, ...I'm not like normal people, I'm an outcast from birth and

always will be. Now that Mom's gone, you and Brenda are all I've got left in this fuckin' world. I don't know, this, Andrea chick, yet. If

she's anything like Susan was, then she's not worth a fuck. Time will

tell, on that. In the meantime you need to chill-out and stop

believing that you're a badass, because you're not. Tommy and the rest of the people here are good folks and they've always accepted me as I am. They're the only ones that ever have but we play much rougher than you, big brother. Please don't get fucked-up with anyone because I may not be there to protect you and if anything ever happened to you... I'd never get over it." Ricky said, pulling me closer and rubbing the back of my head with his open palm.

"I love you too, Ricky." I said, as humility and understanding began

to dawn on me.

As Ricky held me I thought of growing-up and sparring with the Old Man and how much it had hurt to get knocked down. "Stop being a pussy and GET UP!" he had chided. If the drunken sot were still alive he'd be in his nineties and I probably still couldn't have beaten him to this day, he was a tough sonofabitch. I suddenly thought of the five thugs that had surrounded Mom in the parking lot of the grocery store one sunny Sunday afternoon when I was seven years old. They'd made cat-calls and one of them had shoved my mother while the Old Man, Ricky and I had sat in the car watching.

I distinctively remember the sound of the car door being opened as the Old Man had gotten out then. The riff-raff had seen him approaching them and I remember that the Old Man had walked as if he were going to check the mailbox, saying nothing. "Won't be a fair fight, Pops" one of them had called out as the Old Man had neared them.

He'd been right.

I remember one of the thugs ran and the rest had surrounded him...

"WHAT IS MY NAME AND WHERE DO I WORK?" he had asked the last one as he held him by the collar. "P-P-Patith D-Donovoh, you worr ah Wedi Mihhh" had been the reply through broken teeth. "Yes! Redi-Mix, bring your friends and we'll do this again -- anytime!" "GET IN THE CAR" the Old Man had said to the three of us as he dropped the shit bag onto his broken friends, lying on the asphalt.

I then remember sitting in the back seat with Ricky and watching Mom as she sat nervously with her elbow on the car door and her chin in her hand on the way home. "Jesus, Pat ...they were scum but did you have to splatter them? ...In front of the kids?" she had quietly asked him. "You fuck with me or mine, it's gonna hurt" had been his simple reply. I'd always known that he was brutal but I'd never known how brutal until that day. In a way I was still proud of what he had done that day, in protecting us, in another way it still scared me to think of it, almost fifty years later.

"You've always been my hero, brother. ...I think, this, is a good one." I then said, in reference to Andrea, as Ricky and I broke our embrace.

"You're a beautiful man, Tim. I hope she is." Ricky said in reply and

looking at Andrea.

She was standing three feet away from us and obviously completely out of her comfort zone now.

As Ricky turned and walked away from me, Andrea came up to me and placed her cupped hands and forehead on my chest.

"I've never seen so goddamn many tattoos and sunglasses in my life. I'm so fucking nervous, I don't think I could light a cigarette right

now. GET ME OUT OF HERE NOW!!" Andrea hissed with clenched teeth and fear in her voice as she looked up at me.

"Take my hand; give it thirty minutes, OK? If you want to go in thirty

minutes, we'll get in Brenda's Camry and just tell everyone that you got an important text and that we have to leave. Thirty minutes, for me, OK?" I asked.

"Thirty minutes." She finally replied reluctantly, grasping my hand

firmly and shaking her head, yes.

"I love you, Andrea." I said leaning down and kissing her.

"I love you too." She replied.

Jefferson Airplane and Grace Slick suddenly started blaring out of

speakers then, singing about starting a revolution and more people

were now arriving with the sound of motorcycles, I noticed. I led

Andrea over to the refreshment table were Brenda was serving sodas and beer and got us each a root-beer.

"Awww, honey, so glad you came. Everything OK with you and Ricky?" Brenda asked, over the music, as we hugged.

"Happy birthday! Love you. Yes everything's OK." I replied, loudly and pulling Andrea toward Brenda.

The ladies hugged briefly and then talked into each other's ears, the

way women sometimes do, complete with re-assuring nods of the head and shoulder pats by both ladies. Looking over at the grille, I saw that Ricky was now helping a guy who I remembered, vaguely, as Fred. The two of them were drinking beer and flipping steaks and burgers while they chatted and laughed together.

Andrea and I then took our root-beers and walked farther away from the music, toward the swing-set and picnic tables which were now set up. We could hear each other's conversation a little easier and we would also have a little more privacy. Fifteen minutes and we'd go, I decided. I knew Andrea wasn't comfortable here and I wasn't going to make her stay.

"Cowboy? ...IT IS YOU!" she said as she threw herself into my arms.

...Tina was a few years older and a few pounds heavier now and I also noticed that she hadn't stopped getting cheap tattoos since the last time I'd seen her either. She tried to kiss me but I quickly turned my head and her kiss landed on my cheek instead. Tina was a great person but she had been a pretty heavy prescription drug user when I had last known her, I suddenly remembered.

Her drug use had gotten to the point where she'd lost jobs because of it, and eventually me. Tina was the last thing I needed on my hands at this moment, I thought, as she squeezed me hard.

"My God, it's been six or seven years, I'll bet. You look great!" she

said, standing back, and looking a little disappointed by my sudden

head turn and avoidance of a kiss.

"Thanks Tina, so do you!" I lied.

Andrea, looking like a fish out of water, was clearly not amused by my reunion with Tina. I knew that fifteen minutes would be a long time for her to stand with our current company and that I needed to react quickly. Andrea's ego was being ruffled.

"Tina, I'd like you to meet Andrea!" I said enthusiastically

I then took Andrea by the hand and jerked her close to me and smacked her on the lips with a kiss. Ego protected, check. Score one for Andrea, I thought: "Good job, Tim!" I seemed to hear Mom say approvingly, in my heart.

"Oh... hi, Annette, is it?" Tina deliberately mispronounced Andrea's

name, as the ladies shook hands.

"Close enough, honey. Such, a divine, pleasure to meet you." Andrea said not unkindly and releasing Tina's hand as if she were dropping a used napkin.

"Brenda is fifty three, today!" I said passionately, while trying to

sooth any malice between the ladies but neither of them acknowledged my comment.

"You look great, Tim." Tina repeated, looking at me again.

"Hope you enjoy the party."Andrea said in a tone of dismissal as she

snaked her arm around me and smiled brightly.

"I will ...you too. Nice to see you, Tim." Tina said as she apparently

noticed someone else that she suddenly recognized and walked away in their direction.

"A man never loses his woman, with her." Andrea said with finality.

"He just loses his turn, my love." I said wearily, kissing Andrea and

cradling her.

"Kiss me again." She said leaning up. I kissed her again.

"We've paid our respects, let's get out of here and get a room,

someplace." I said leading Andrea.

"No, I want to eat first." Andrea said a little defiantly.

"Honey, I don't need you starting any shit. Let's go alright?" I said,

suddenly tired.

"You were the one starting shit, when we first got here, with that fat

dipzo a few minutes ago. Remember, COWBOY?" Andrea said, mimicking Tina now and looking up at me.

"Let's go." I repeated, in a serious voice.

"Honey, I'm not going to start any shit, honest. OK? I just want to

eat something and talk with Brenda when she has a moment." Andrea said calmly as she released my hand and started in Brenda's direction. I waved her off with a reluctant open hand; I knew there was no arguing with Andrea Millhouse and I was glad that she was starting to loosen up a little, now.

Looking down then, I absent mindedly picked up one of "Ricky's" magazines which was lying on the picnic table where someone had obviously left it earlier. The magazine was a popular, nation-wide, rogue motorcycle, publication and dated two thousand and thirteen. Ricky's photograph was on the front cover as he sat side-saddle on his parked Pan-Head chopper and looking straight into the lens of the camera, complete with his wild Peter Frampton hair and infamous aviator sunglasses.

With no expression on his face, Ricky had his right boot on the ground and the other on the front foot peg of the machine. He had been exactly what the female photographer for the magazine had ever hoped for and she had shot hundreds of photographs of him that day. The one which I was looking at on the cover had been the editor's final selection. Ricky, with arms crossed, was wearing chaps and a black tank-top, displaying his massive tattooed arms. He looked like a very serious guy in the photograph but then again, when it came to the Pan-Head, he was serious.

"Ricky Donovan discusses overhaul techniques and custom mod's for the Pan-Head." The lower right caption read. I briefly flipped through the article and its dozen or so pages of photographs which I had looked at dozens of times. There was even one photo with me in it, as I helped Ricky lift the completed engine assembly off of the rebuild stand.

That he was in a famous magazine really didn't matter much to Ricky and he'd probably spent a grand total of ten minutes looking at the layout portraying him. He'd been given twenty five hundred dollars and the invitation to meet with the editors of the magazine, if and when he was ever in California. I seriously doubted that Ricky cared or even remembered the invitation.

Brenda had ordered hundreds of the issue with Ricky in it, directly from the publisher when it had come out that spring. She had also discreetly removed the naked lady section for the issue given to Mom. "It's a nation-wide magazine, Mom, and it's even sold in Australia!" I had said excitedly when I brought her the copy. "It's a nation-wide magazine, so why didn't either of you smile in the photos? You're both such handsome men but neither of you smiled in any of the photos. Why don't you, young people, smile anymore?" Mom had said disappointingly once she began looking at the article.

I had then leaned over and kissed my mother and said "YOU, always make me smile, Mom. I love you."

...I'd put the magazine back inside the trailer so it wouldn't get destroyed by insects or the elements, I thought.

"Tim? ...Hey, I wasn't trying to push you around when you arrived. Some of us are just a little protective of your brother and well, you and your lady don't exactly look like our crowd, to be honest." Tommy now said, standing next to me.

"No hard feelings, Tommy. It's all good man. And no, we're not bikers, we're just here to help them celebrate." I said quietly as I watched Andrea begin mixing with people.

"Ricky's always talking about you, I wish I'd known that it was you, I

would have been a little more cordial." Tommy said as he swigged his beer.

"I could have handled things a little better, myself." I replied. Tommy

and I shook hands again.

"Steaks will be done in a bit, you and your wife are welcome to sit

with Wanda and me if you'd like." Tommy said.

"She's waiting on a text right now and we may have to leave but if we don't, I'll suggest it to her, thanks." I said

Tommy and I clanked our bottles together "To the ladies" I said.

"Hear, hear," Tommy replied.

It wasn't the first time that someone had mistaken, Andrea, as my

"wife." In all honesty the reference was flattering and yet a bit

spooky for me, all at the same time. With each of us, having a failed

marriage in our past, Andrea and I were both still a bit gun-shy,

regarding the issue, I think. Neither of us had ever dropped the "M"

word - or "marriage" in each other's presence but I knew it had

crossed her mind, as it had mine, periodically. I'm too young to ever

marry again I thought, shrugging my shoulder and gulping the last of

my root-beer. Another tune was blasting out on the speakers now but I wasn't even listening to it.

I was now seated, alone, at one of the picnic tables and watching

Andrea and admiring her beauty as she stood in the food line, talking to people and laughing. Andrea could fit-in anywhere and was a natural "people, person." I wasn't. I got up and slung my empty bottle into a plastic trash can and started making my way toward the food line.

A burnt steak and another cold drink suddenly seemed like a good idea to me. As I walked across the lawn, I reflected on Andrea's earlier comment and smiled inwardly to myself. "I've never seen so goddamn many tattoos and sunglasses in my life."

"...I think you would have really liked Andrea Millhouse, Mom." I said quietly.

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