III

Cole’s [POV]

I stood at the end of the driveway, watching as Declan proudly rode his little 16-inch bike without training wheels. I was trying to appear more awake than I felt. We lived on a quiet street, so he was weaving from one side to the other, pedaling wildly, a grin on his face.

“Lookin’ good, buddy!” I shouted as he turned a 180 and came zooming back toward me. It was Saturday morning, bright and sunny, the air warm with a refreshing breeze. Declan and I had been up since 7, and I tried not to start thinking about past weekends, years ago, when I’d sleep in until sometimes 10 or 11. I couldn’t remember the last time that I’d slept in that late.

Declan came to a wobbly stop in front of me, sliding off his seat first though, and putting his foot down.

“See, Dad?” he said. “I did it the right way.”

“You did,” I said. “And you look great. Uncle Ben will be here later, and he’s going to think it’s about the coolest thing ever to see you riding your bike. Did you know some 4-year-olds have never even ridden on a bike before, never mind ride one without training wheels?”

He nodded. “Maybe I can help them,” he said.

I smiled. He was always so willing to help other kids. “That’d be nice of you. You’d be a good teacher.”

He looked past me, toward Allie’s house. “Like Miss Allie,” he said. “She’s a really good teacher. Hey, can I go over and show her how I can ride my bike?”

I glanced over my shoulder. Her car was parked in the driveway, but the front door wasn’t open, and there didn’t seem to be any signs of life indoors. I imagined her slumbering peacefully, with no alarm set, waking up whenever her body decided it was time to.

“Maybe not yet, bud,” I said. “It’s still on the earlier side. If we see Allie out later, you can show her.”

“Will you ride your bike with me?”

“Sure,” I said. I went into the garage and got my bike off the stand. I’d been a pretty serious road cyclist since high school, though that had definitely taken a back seat since Declan had arrived. I didn’t bother to put my cycling shoes on or a helmet; I just swung my leg over the top tube, settled myself into the saddle, and remembered how glorious it used to feel to wake up late, throw on my kit, hop on the bike, and ride for 80, 90 miles.

It was a little torturous, being on the bike but not being able to just ride in the drops, pedaling as hard as I could just to get into that zone where it felt like you could go on forever. It almost felt as though the bike—a carbon Domane—was quivering underneath me, like a Thoroughbred on Derby day that was being held back while all his brethren raced onward without him.

Declan pedaled after me, his legs going three times as fast as mine. I coasted, letting him catch up.

We rode to the end of the street and then back, and as we approached the driveway, I saw that Allie had just walked out the front door toward her car. Declan saw her, too, and swerved right in front of me. I braked hard, and almost ended, but since I wasn’t clipped in, ended up sliding off the saddle and smashing my balls right against the top tube. The word FUCK reverberated through my head as I gritted my teeth and tried to keep from falling to the ground and curling up in the fetal position. It didn’t seem that Declan or Allie was aware of the agony I was in, so I tried to pretend that everything was perfectly fine and I didn’t feel like I was suddenly going to hurl that morning’s coffee all over the side of the road.

I gingerly got off the bike and walked it into the front yard, leaning it up against one of the red maples. Declan was showing Allie how he fast he could go, and Allie had a big smile on her face as he pedaled.

“He’s doing great,” she said when I limped over. She tilted her head to the side. “You okay?”

“Superb,” I said, trying to ignore the wave of nausea that washed over me.

“Not too many 4-year-olds could ride a bike like that. I’m very impressed, Declan!” she called.

He grinned and came to a stop in front of us. “Do you have a bike?”

“No. I used to when I lived in the city, but I gave it to my friend.”

“Oh.” Declan looked disappointed. “Do you think maybe she’d let you borrow it sometime? Then we could all go for a bike ride together.”

“This is a very nice area for biking,” I said. “Especially now and then again in the fall.”

“Maybe I’ll buy a new bike,” Allie said. “This does seem like a good place to go bike riding. I like to go running, but I wouldn’t mind having a bike again, either.”

Declan started smiling again and then pushed off, riding back toward the end of the road. Allie watched him go.

“He okay by himself?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “He knows to turn around at the end of the road. This is a pretty quiet road if you haven’t noticed already yet.”

“I like it,” she said. “I like that it’s actually quiet at night and that in the morning, I get woken up by the birds and not some taxi honking or someone’s car alarm going off.”

“You’re from the city?”

“Boston.”

I nodded. “That’s cool. I went to BU. I rather liked living in the city, though it could definitely get tiresome.”

“I’m not saying I’ll never go back,” she said, “but I grew up there, so I was definitely ready for a change of pace. Anyway, I’ve got to run or I’m going to be late for my dentist appointment.” She waved to Declan, who pedaled furiously back over.

“You’re leaving?” he asked.

“I’ve got a dentist appointment to go to. Got to make sure that my teeth are nice and healthy.” She smiled, showing him a nice row of white teeth. “But maybe I’ll see you later on, okay? Good job riding the bike.”