A Summer in Sonoma

  “Seven. You gonna let me pick you up?”

  Oh, God, she thought, what am I doing? “Sure. Let me tell you how to get here.”

  Cassie was up and dressed on Sunday morning well before seven, oddly excited about Walt coming for her. She’d had to lie on her back on the bed to get her jeans zipped; she’d put on a few pounds again. But she didn’t worry about that with Walt; she wasn’t trying to impress him. That was a refreshing change. She heard the rumbling motor of his bike as he pulled into the neighborhood. At the stroke of seven he rang her bell and she answered her door with a big smile, stepping back a couple of feet to present herself in jeans and boots. “Okay?” she asked.

  “Better than okay,” he said. “You look fantastic. But you might want to tie up your hair. It could get all tangled in the wind.” He balanced the collar of a leather jacket on a finger. “This might come in handy in the shaded back roads and hills,” he said.

  Steve came forward, a green stuffed frog filling his mouth, wagging his tail and looking up at Walt.

  “Well, hello,” he said, leaning down to give him a scratch under the chin. “I’ve heard about you….” Then to Cassie, “Will he be all right if you’re out awhile?”

  “He’ll be fine. He’s a mature man now.” She plucked the jacket off his finger and, out of habit, examined the label. “Walt, where did you get this? It’s a Vince!”

  “We started selling a few items at the store. Biker clothes, you know.”

  “I’ve lusted after this jacket at Neiman Marcus,” she said. “It goes for over seven hundred dollars.”

  “That right? Well, we don’t like to let the prices get too high, but it’s no secret—bikers like to spend on their machines and accessories. I brought some chaps, too, if you’re interested.”

  She noticed he was wearing heavy denim jeans and boots, the usual chains around the heels. “You think I need chaps?” she asked.

  “I think we’re going to be completely safe, but if you’re concerned about anything, you might as well suit up.”

  “The chaps came from the store, too?” she asked. To his nod, she said, “And they don’t mind you borrowing this stuff for a weekend ride?”

  “Not a problem,” he said. “I give a lot to the store. It’s okay.”

  “Well, then…” she said, shrugging into the coveted jacket. She pulled her long, straight black hair into a ponytail and tied it in a knot, then kissed Steve on the head and told him to have a nice day. Once outside, she let Walt help her into the chaps. He fixed her up with a rider’s helmet and got her situated on the back of the bike.

  He revved it up and, over his shoulder, said, “You’re going to have to hang on around my waist.” He grinned at her. “That’s the best part for me.”

  She put her arms around him and he took off, slowly through her little neighborhood, and soon they were zooming west along the freeway heading toward San Francisco. At first, being the emergency room nurse who hated the way bikers would take stupid chances passing between cars and on the shoulders of freeways, she was focused on his driving, but she soon realized he was cautious and courteous. He’d signal before passing and raise a hand to thank the driver if they let him in; often she could hear a toot of acknowledgment. Comfortable in no time, she concentrated on the scenery. He turned north and left the city behind, then west again through the rolling hills toward Sonoma County. The green hillsides were dotted with grazing cattle, acres of rice fields and farms. He was off the freeway and on back roads in no time; they passed through small towns she’d never seen before and finally entered the little town of Petaluma. He pulled up in front of a shabby-looking café outside of which stood a line of people; apparently this place had a reputation. They waited at the end of the line, which moved quickly, and when they got inside the door, a waitress beamed at Walt, all smiles. “Hey, Walt. How you doing?”

  “Good, Shirl. Two for breakfast.”

  “You got it,” she said, leading the way to a very small table in an extremely crowded, very busy restaurant. “Coffee?” Shirl asked.

  Cassie nodded, taking a menu. There was something nice about being with someone who was known in a place like this. She’d been out with more polished guys who seemed to be known in fancier places, but they were never as friendly, as accessible, as Walt. In a place like this, where the meal was cheap and the people seemed ordinary, Walt’s notoriety was special, more authentic. She found herself thinking, I’m not the only person who likes him. Right here, deep in the center of this big thug, is a just plain old nice guy.

  “You must come here all the time,” she said.

  “If I’m heading west, this is the best place to start the day. If I’m heading east, there’s a place in Folsom I like to stop.”

  “Do you do this every weekend?” she asked.

  He smiled. “When I can. Some people golf, some jog. I like to eat and ride. How do you like it so far?”

  “Well, I’ve always liked to eat,” she said. “And I think I don’t hate the riding part. Yet.”

  “It’s just going to get better,” he said. “Mind if I order for us? You like just about everything? Because I know what’s good.”

  “Go for it,” she invited. “Guess I won’t be having salad for breakfast. Thank God.”

  “You’re going to love this,” he said.

  Less than fifteen minutes later their small table was overpowered by large helpings of food—eggs, sausages, home fries, pancakes, biscuits and gravy. “Oh, my God,” she said, overwhelmed.

  “Just enjoy some samples,” he said. “Even I can’t eat everything they put out.”

  “Where are we going? Napa Valley?” she asked.

  “There’s a lot more to Sonoma County than Napa. I like the outskirts—we’ll get into the hills so you can catch a view, then pass through the valley. That okay?”

  “Sounds great. Listen, I never even asked you how long we’ll be out riding today,” she said. “I told Julie I’d stop by later if I was back in enough time. Just a standing thing on Sundays when Billy and I are both off work.”

  “However long you want,” he said with a shrug. “Want to give me a time to have you back?”

  “No worries, it’s very informal. She knows I have plans for the day. I’m kind of like…family.” And then she became very conscious of two things. She was like family, but not exactly the real thing. And…he might wonder why she didn’t ask him along.

  “You just say when,” he said. He began serving her a plate out of the massive platters on the table. “Give yourself a little extra time. Even though you’re just riding and the bike’s doing all the work, it can be tiring. And dirty. Don’t cut it too close—make time for a little rest and a shower. You’ll want it, believe me.”

  “I hope I didn’t just spoil your plans…” she said.

  “Not at all,” he said, putting some biscuits and gravy on her plate. “This is your first ride. We’re going at your pace. Try some of this. It’s awesome.”

  She cut through the biscuit with a fork, scooped up some white gravy and lifted it to her mouth where it melted. “Mmm,” she said. “You are very good with food.”

  “I read a helluva menu, huh?” he said with a laugh.

  A different waitress appeared at their table. “How’s everything, Walt?”

  “Great as usual, Sue, thanks,” he said. And before breakfast was over, a couple of other waitresses swung by just to say hello. A diner and his wife said hello on their way out and Walt introduced them to Cassie.

  “Do you know everyone?” she asked as they were leaving.

  “Just the regulars. Nice folks.” He handed her the rider’s helmet and watched while she tied up her hair again. “That’s just amazing, how you do that,” he said. “I should have you show me how.” She laughed at him. Imagine them sharing ponytail secrets. “I thought I’d take you up into the hills and I know a couple of off-road trails with good views. You think you’re up to that?”

  “Is it scary?”


  “I don’t think so, but if you get nervous, all you have to do is give me a sign—pat my arm or something—and we won’t go any farther. How are you with heights?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never done heights on two wheels before.”

  “Fair enough. You just let me know.”

  They mounted the Harley and headed out of town, winding through the hills that surrounded Napa Valley. Cassie hung on as they wove up and down the roads, past farms and ranches built into hillsides and nestled into valleys. The rolling landscape was lush and she could see cattle grazing, now and then sheep or llamas. Below them the occasional tractor trundled along but mainly there were houses on a few acres, separated by their land, their horses wandering in pastures, here and there a vineyard, maybe the occasional winery or resort or spa. Everything back here away from the freeway was so peaceful and pristine, so quiet, not the crowded California she was accustomed to. A couple of times he pulled off to the side of the road and asked her how she was doing and she answered, “Fine.” In all honesty, she was loving it. The higher they went, the fewer the farms and ranches and the cooler the air. She was grateful for the jacket, the beautiful leather garment she would never buy because of the cost. She hoped she wasn’t sweating in it.

  Walt stopped every twenty minutes or so, giving her a chance to appreciate the views. They didn’t talk; they just gazed. Then with her okay, he started back up. The road was paved, but mostly one lane, and wound around hills that got steeper, the valleys getting deeper. They passed a total of four pickup trucks; the area was deserted but for the locals. Before long they passed points from which she could see the entire valley, and beyond it a mist that suggested the Pacific.

  There was still a lot of steep road left when Walt pulled over. There were a few trees, some soft grass and big boulders. Not far away a bull, snorting behind a barbed-wire fence. They were so high, she wondered how the bull had gotten there. She also wondered if that fence could hold him. Walt got off the bike and took off his helmet; he smoothed a hand over his messed up hair but it didn’t help much. He grinned at her and asked, “How you doing?”

  She pulled off her helmet and, smiling, said, “I have bugs in my teeth, my whole body is vibrating, I’m freezing and I think I have bedsores on my butt.”

  “Wanna start down?” he asked with a laugh.

  “Maybe in a while. How’d you find this road?”

  “I just go exploring,” he said. “This is one of my favorites.”

  “You think he’ll stay back there?” she asked, indicating the bull.

  “The fence is charged. He isn’t getting through.”

  “How’d he get up here?”

  “I guess he walked,” Walt said. “What do you think so far?”

  She tilted her head. “I’m kind of impressed with myself. I didn’t think there was a chance in hell I’d actually like this.”

  He laughed deeply, a big rumbling sound that made the bull lift his head and snort.

  “Don’t get excited—I’m not exactly a convert, but it wasn’t bad. The scenery is wonderful.”

  “Better than from the inside of a car?” he asked.

  “Well, maybe. But the point is, a car would never find this place. We’re too programmed to stick to state-approved roads.”

  He just smiled at her.

  “Can we take a break? My butt really is vibrating.”

  “Absolutely. Feel like some coffee?”

  She looked around. “I don’t see a Starbucks anywhere.”

  He reached into one of his saddlebags and withdrew a thermos and two plastic mugs. He poured two steaming coffees and handed her one. Then he settled himself on the grass in full view of the bull. Cassie sat down beside him, a little more cautiously. “You’re sure about him?” she asked, nodding her head in the bull’s direction.

  “Relatively,” Walt answered. “I’ve done this at least twenty times without him charging.”

  They sat for a long while enjoying the view, sipping hot coffee while the bull occasionally glared at them. Long minutes passed before Walt said, “Mind if I ask you something kind of personal?”

  “Shoot,” she said, taking another sip.

  “Why aren’t you married with three kids?”

  She turned to look at him. “What makes you think I want to be?” she asked.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I was just wondering.”

  “Why would you ask?” she returned.

  He shrugged. “You’re so easy to be with. Nice. Funny and sweet. And if you don’t mind me saying so, you’re awful pretty. Seems like there’d be no break in your action for a bike ride.”

  She tipped her head down and laughed. “Walt, I have a real bad dating history. Mostly jerks and creeps. And that last one could’ve been real dangerous if you hadn’t accidentally been there. I have rotten luck with men.”

  “Whoa, Cassie,” he said. “That’s unbelievable. You should have a long line of men just waiting for you to give ’em a chance. Good men. I sure can’t figure that out.”

  “Thanks, that’s sweet. I’m not sure why, either. I’ve thought a lot about that lately. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I have a problem with wanting the right guy too much…. You know what I mean. I have friends who married real young, friends who just aren’t interested in marriage at all. But I don’t have any friends who have been like me—always looking for Mr. Right and coming up with nothing but Mr. Wrong. I think sometimes I know in my gut that he’s Mr. Wrong and, out of sheer blind hope, I shut off my brain and ignore the truth.” She looked at him and her eyes twinkled. “Don’t know why I’d do that,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s a perfectly good brain.”

  “It is,” he agreed. “I could tell pretty quick.”

  “So, I’m through with all that. No more looking. I’m resigned.”

  “Resigned?” he echoed.

  She took a breath. “I guess if it happens along, fine. But the next one is going to have to hit me over the head with a club and drag me away—I won’t be looking, hoping, wanting that so much. That last little mishap of mine really got my attention. Whew. That was scary. I think on some level I must have known he was a phony. There was just something about him that didn’t add up. I didn’t know him well enough, but he looked good on paper, as we girls like to say.”

  “On paper?” Walt asked, frowning.

  She sighed. “He said he worked for the fire department and I’ve come to trust the fire department. He was polite, decent-looking, had a good-paying job, filled the basic criteria. I’ve always skimmed the surface. Maybe I moved too fast because it was so important to have…” She didn’t finish; it was embarrassing how much she’d always wanted a man in her life, a family of her own. “So, that part of my life is over. I’ve been going about this all wrong. It’s time to focus on my life, my independent life. After all, it’s not a bad life.”

  “I like that idea. But what convinced you to take a chance on me? On a motorcycle, yet?” he asked.

  “You’re different,” she said, putting a hand on his forearm, right on the naked lady. “You’ve turned into a pretty good friend. You helped me out of a tight spot, your brother’s P.D. and I know you understand why I’m not interested in more than friendship.”

  “Just out of curiosity, what’ve you been looking for? In a guy.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Somebody permanent. Reliable. Trustworthy.” Then she grinned and added. “Good-looking, decent future, wants kids, adores me…” But in the back of her mind a little voice taunted, Male and breathing…

  “Very reasonable,” he said, smiling.

  “I always had a rule about men—and I ignored it over and over again. If he’s nice to you but mean to the waiter, he’s not a nice person.”

  “Huh?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

  “There are lots of people who can be nice when they want to be, when they’re after something. But at some point their true colors come out—when they’re getting a haircut, ordering a meal,
having the car washed. When they snip and pick and criticize and…well, you know.” Uh-oh, she suddenly thought—Walt is nice to the waiter, nice to everyone. But no…she liked Walt, but not in that way.

  “Yeah. I know,” he said.

  “So, I ignored the rule. I’d see a sign and blow right through it, hoping a relationship would work. It usually didn’t take long for the guy to treat me just as bad—no returned calls, I became invisible…and my heart would be in pieces, over and over. I’m all done doing that. First, I’m not dating, period. Second, if I ever dip into the market again, I’m going to be very careful and pay better attention.”

  “You ought to,” he said. “You should have the best, that’s all.”

  “Right,” she agreed. She realized that there was something about Walt; she kept telling him things she didn’t tell anyone other than Julie, not even her other girlfriends. “So what’s your story?” she asked.

  “My story?” he repeated.

  “With women? Been serious? Engaged? Have a million broken hearts in your past like me? What?”

  He just laughed. “Cassie, I hardly ever date. I stay busy with the bikes, the stores. I mean, in the grand scheme of things what I do isn’t much, but it can tie up a lot of hours every day, every week. There have been one or two women I kind of rode with a time or two…”

  “When you say you rode with them, is that biker talk for slept with them?”

  “Actually, that’s biker talk for taking a bike ride together.”

  “Oh,” she said, laughing. “So. You’re a virgin?”

  “It’s not as bleak as that. But there’s no one. I guess I’m in the same place as you—nothing turned up and I quit looking. I really love what I do. I’m real happy. It’s a pretty simple life, but it works for me.”

  Oh, she thought, he’s good for me. I want to be in exactly that place.

  He drank a little coffee and looked out over the hills. Then he turned back to her. “You watching the time?” he asked.

  “Nah. I’m fine.”

  “If you’re not in a hurry, there are vineyards in the valley. Tasting rooms and restaurants. You’re probably not hungry yet, but you might be later.”