Free The Day Will Come by Judy Clemens Page B

We were just letting the cows out.”
    “They pretty happy?”
    “Oh, yeah.”
    “Mornin’, Stella,” Lenny said.
    “Same to you. Bart not coming?”
    Lenny shook his head. “He thought about it, but it’s a busy time of year at the store, and he didn’t want both of us to be gone, especially since next Saturday’s a wash.”
    “I hear you.” Bart, Lenny’s business partner at the Biker Barn, their Harley-Davidson dealership, would be serving as Lenny’s best man at the wedding. I wondered if it had crossed Lenny’s mind to be concerned about what Bart would be wearing.
    “So are we gonna freeze today?” I asked. “Was it cold on the way over?”
    “Nah. You’ll be fine if you wear your chaps.”
    A half hour later I was wearing them, and Lenny had Lucy decked out in a pair from the Biker Barn. We didn’t have any small enough for Tess, so she wore two pairs of jeans and her winter jacket, along with a good pair of gloves. Her helmet and its face shield would keep her head warm.
    “You get your scooter fixed up okay for Tess?” Lenny asked.
    I pulled my bike out of the garage. “I put blocks on the foot pegs for her. She should be able to reach those no problem.” I pointed out the chunks of wood I’d secured where Tess’ feet would rest. I’d also attached a seat Lenny had loaned me with a wider pad and a back rest. “She’ll be good and comfy.”
    Lucy and Tess came out, and Lucy eyed my bike. “You’re sure she’ll be all right?”
    “She’ll be fine, sweetheart.” Lenny put his arm around her. “Stella’s been riding for years. And Tess don’t hardly weigh a thing. Won’t change the balance much at all.”
    “And you’ll hang on tight, right, Punkin?” I said.
    Tess grinned and nodded.
    “We ready, then?” Lenny asked.
    I hesitated and looked toward the house, wondering if I should give Nick’s phone another try.
    “You want to call him one more time?” Lucy asked, reading my mind.
    I pulled on my riding gloves. “No. He’ll call when he’s ready.”
    “Okay, then,” Lenny said. “Let’s head out.” He swung a leg over his Wide Glide and turned the key in the ignition, ready to push the Start button.
    I sat, too, and Lucy gave Tess a hand getting settled behind me.
    “You’re sure you’re okay?” she asked. “You hang on tight to Stella.”
    Tess groaned. “Oh, mooooom .”
    The morning was clear and beautiful as we headed down 363 toward Norristown. We met other groups of bikes on the way, probably headed toward the same event. When we arrived at Montgomery County Harley-Davidson the parking lot was crowded with bikes and leather-clad riders waving and calling to friends. We dismounted and waited in line a few minutes to register for the ride.
    “See that guy?” Lenny asked Tess. He pointed at a photo of a smiling man on a Road King. The photo sat front and center on the registration table. “He got hurt at his job, and can’t work any more. The money from this ride is going to help his family pay the bills.”
    Tess frowned. “Does he have kids?”
    “Three, I think. Around your age. Little younger, maybe.”
    Her lips pinched together as she took in the information, and Lucy patted her shoulder.
    “That there’s Mike,” the lady at the table said, gesturing toward the picture. “We sure appreciate you coming out for him today, and so does he.”
    “Glad to help, ma’am,” Lenny said.
    He forked over our fifteen-dollar-a-person charge (with a little extra tucked in, if I saw right) and we received our poker sheets. During the ride we’d travel to four more spots they’d outlined on a map, all with tables manned by members of the Montgomery County chapter. At each spot we’d pick a card from a deck and write it on our sheet, and at the end of the day, whoever rode in with the best “hand” would win a prize.
    “Go on over to that table,” the lady said, “and pick your first card.”
    We followed her directions to a card table where a man