Free Fighting to Stay by Kasey Millstead Page B

truck comes to a halt, Jasper jumps out and runs across to the slide.  I take the picnic basket from the back, while Roam gets the tartan blanket.  We find a shady spot under a tree and lay out the supplies.
    “He’s a great kid,” I remark as I watch him swing across the monkey bars.
    “Amy’s done a good job raisin’ him.”
    “You have too,” I tell him earnestly.  I’m shocked that he would think he has had nothing to do with how well rounded his son is.
    He doesn’t reply, he just continues watching Jasper play.
    ~*~
    “C’mon down here, Jasper, and have yourself some lunch,” I call out. 
    He jumps down from the equipment and runs over.  Collapsing on the grass, puffing and panting, he takes a long chug of water before wiping the sweat from his forehead.
    “You want a sub, buddy?  Lacey made ‘em all herself this morning,” Roam asks him.
    “Yum!” He shout.  “I love subs.  They’re my favorite kind of lunch.  Did you put tomato on mine? I hate tomato. Dad says girls like boys who eat tomatoes, but I don’t want girls liking me anyways,” he rattles on.
    “No,” I chuckle, “I didn’t put tomatoes on yours.  Just meat and cheese with Ranch.  Your dad said that was your favorite.”
    “Yeah,” he nods furiously, “I love that.” 
    I hand him his sub and he takes a large bite.  “This is so good.  Thanks Lacey.”  His words come out all garbled because of his full mouth but I still smile at him indulgently and say, “Glad you like it, sweetheart.”
    I hand Roam his sub and then dig into my own.
    After we’ve finished eating , Jasper runs off to play again and I lay my head down in Roam’s lap.
    “It’s so peaceful here,” I murmur.
    “I used to play here when I was a kid.  We didn’t live far away.  Me and a couple of other kids from my neighborhood would come down here and run amok.”
    “I can imagine,” I laugh.  “I wasn’t allowed to do much during my childhood, so I don’t have any funny or exciting stories.”
    “Come on, I’ll show you something,” he stands, taking my hand and hoisting me up alongside him.  We walk over to a large tree that has a bunch of carvings in the trunk.  He walks around the back and traces his finger over some of the words, before he stops on one particular carving.
    “I did this when I was about twelve.”  He points to the writing.  ROAM WAS ‘ERE. 1996.             
    Then, he takes his pocket knife from his belt and begins slicing into the bark.  As I watch him, my eyes slowly begin to cloud over as my vision blurs.  When he is done, he blows the excess sawdust away and brushes over his art work a couple of times using his hand.  He turns to me, looking proud of himself.  There, carved in the tree in supersized letters, encased in an even bigger heart, is:
    R C
      4
    L M
     
    “Aw, big bad biker boy has a soft spot,” I say through my tears.
    He pulls me into his arms and swipes away the wetness on my cheeks.  “Only for you, sugar.”  He gently kisses my lips, before he whispers words that change everything.  “Been dreaming of you, Lacey.  Never thought I’d be a man to settle down, but you’re different.  You make me want things I never thought I’d want.  I love you, sugar.”
    A sob escapes my throat.  I’ve only ever heard those three words from two other people – Jenn and my mom.  I know I love Roam back.  Slowly, almost imperceptibly, over the last few months, he has wormed his way into my heart.  Now, when I think of my future, it makes my chest ache, to think of him not being in it.  That’s how I know I love him, I can’t imagine my life without him.   We’ve spent every spare moment together since the night he said he wanted to be with me.  When he’s not doing club business, we’re together, either at his place or Jenn’s.  Sometimes we just drive to the beach and lay on the sand all day.  Sometimes we talk, other times we just enjoy each other.
    “I