Cherry Bomb
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2009 by Three Sheets

So here I am, stuck in a hospital and trying to come to grips with a crash that took out my beloved cycle and deal with a girlfriend who acted as if she were the only one in the world who was adversely affected. Not once was I asked how I felt as I laid in bed with a catheter installed, well you know where.

Lynne didn't like the fact that I did something that was not buttoned down, middle of the road, safe on both sides. After the accident she went on an anti-bike crusade that would make Desert Storm look like a couple of kids in a sand box.

She almost got herself fired because she refused to leave me alone in the hospital with the "Cute Girl Child with a doctorate". I don't know what it is about women but those two did not like each other in the least. When Lynne was there, Dr. Donovan ignored her and wouldn't even acknowledge the fact that she was interested in my well-being.

When Lynne was gone I got anecdotes of living with a cop or playing full contact football with no pads as a kid. She acted as if Lynne wasn't in the picture at all.

One day Lynne wasn't there. "Did I run her off?" She asked.

"No," I replied, "she had to check in at work."

I thought I heard her say "Damn" under her breath.

Rob and Sybil, two of my favorite people and best friends were in one day for a visit. Sybil was talking to Dr. Donovan and they were having a blast. Hell, I thought they had known each other before me. Rob could only watch the two of them. Sybil was the exact opposite of the Baby Doc. Imagine a porn star (Sybil) and a medium distance runner, (Dr. Donovan).

Lynne came in about that time and Sybil and Rob said hello and good-bye in the same breath. Dr. Donovan just ignored Lynne and walked out with the two of them.

Lynne just glared after them but didn't say anything.

I was checking out of the hospital that day and Lynne had come by to pick me up. She had my van so I wouldn't be cramped in a small car. Yes, I drive a van. A Mini-van, if you will. Have you ever seen the movie, Get Shorty? It's practical; so no snide comments.

Once we got home from the hospital I immediately noticed the leather in the mud room was missing along with the spare helmets.

"Where are my helmets?"

"I just moved them to the Goodwill box for you."

"WHAT? Why would you do that?"

"I thought that after that accident you wouldn't want to ride anymore."

I hobbled out into the garage and found the box I have for discards to DAV/Goodwill and retrieved four helmets along with two sets of leathers too small for me but good for loaners. I brought everything back into the mud room and replaced them.

I turned to Lynne, "If I decide to quit riding, I will be the one to discard equipment." I said this very calmly and quietly since she didn't want to see me angry.

"Surely, you don't plan on riding again, after what happened to you?"

"You don't plan on showering again after slipping in the bathtub, do you?" I countered.

"That is totally different."

"How?"

"It just is. You have no control over other drivers and you are exposed."

"Yes," I conceded, "but it's a risk that I minimize by always using protective clothing and equipment and it's a risk I'm comfortable with taking. You have no control over anything but yourself and sometimes not even then if you slip, or step off a sidewalk into the path of a car. You also can't rule out slipping and seriously injuring yourself in the snow or on ice or in the bathtub. You get dinged and you carry on."

"Ok, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"No Lynne, you don't, but I do like it and I intend to continue doing it."

As the time went on, I noticed little things that told me this discussion was far from resolved., My Motorcycle magazine collection was moved to the work room. When we would go out, Lynne did the driving and the choosing and it was never to any place I would likely meet old friends. She acted as though, as long as I couldn't drive, I no longer had any say in where we went. I noticed this and mentioned that it would be nice to go to one of our old haunts and catch up with old friends.

"Well you can go where you want, but I am driving."

I also started to notice that the phone would ring and as soon as Lynne picked it up she would listen for a minute then hang up. "Wrong number" she would say.

There was a dinner ride set up for the following Thursday and I mentioned it but Lynne said she had planned a night out with her girlfriends.

I let it go and figured by that time, I'd at least be able to drive an automatic.

I checked the location of the ride and left around 6:30 so I'd be there a little early and could meet and greet.

I got to Bobby's and got myself settled and was working on my second coke as my dinner and the rest of the group showed up. It was good seeing folks again. After shaking hands and getting hugs I settled into the meal.

I had a few folks that were close to me at my table and we talked about the accident and came to the conclusion that my number just wasn't up yet. We talked about the maneuvering I did and what the cops had told me from witness accounts and I don't think I did anything wrong except maybe getting back on the right swerve a little early but you don't count the distance or time when that happens. You just go on instinct and training/practice.

One of the girls came up and gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek and asked when I would be getting rid of my spare leathers.

"I don't think I am getting rid of anything. Why do you ask?" I said.

"Well I see Lynne at work and she mentioned that she didn't want you riding anymore and you may be leaning in that direction."

You could have knocked me over with a feather, and when I started to get a little red, Judy, the girl who mentioned it, backed up a little and said, "I think someone just made a HUGE mistake."

"Oh yeah," I said.

I finished my meal when I felt two large breasts rest on my shoulders and arms come around for a hug from the rear.

"Hello sweet Sybil," I said.

"Hello Dom," She answered.

"Why didn't you call this week? We would have been happy to come over and cook a little." She said.

"Well, Lynne has been there most days and when she's at work Carmen is there doing house work, so I get along."

"Dom, if you need anything, say something to me or Rob. We can move in if you need us."

"Thank you Love, I do appreciate the offer but Lynne still comes by and you know how she feels about you." I said.

"Yeah, I know but I don't know why. Hell, I have never done anything to her."

"You are just You, and a little of You goes a long way; she just doesn't like competition in any way. You saw the way she acted around the Dr. and she was doing her JOB! We'll all get together soon I promise."

"Ok, but you know the number. Oh, have you seen your Doctor?

"I'm due to go back in a week." I said.

I got up and made my good-byes to the crowd and hobbled out to the van. After struggling to get in I got everything situated and left for IB (Imperial Beach).

As I drove up to the garage and hit the opener I noticed Lynne's car on the curb.

She's early, normally her girls' night out lasts until midnight and here it's only 9:30.

"Where have you been?" I heard a shrill voice from the living room as I came in through the mud room.

"If you must know, I went to Bobby's to meet up with some of the bike group and to see some friends. But then you KNEW I wanted to go." I said.

 
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