Josh was going to be celebrating his thirteenth birthday Saturday. His mom was sentimental about him becoming a teenager but never let her emotions overflow in front of him. If she felt a lump in her throat ahead of the tears, she would pull weeds in the garden.
He and his mom had been on their own for seven years. She didn’t like to talk about the day she found the sticky note on the coffee maker. Josh did know the words ‘I am sorry. I don’t want to be married anymore’ meant his dad was gone.
He sometimes sat on the front steps before supper looking up and down the gravel road. Maybe his dad would come back home after work one night. Maybe he would miss them like they missed him, and he would be welcomed back into the family. Now that Josh was leaving his childhood behind, his hope of seeing his dad again was no bigger than the rabbit’s foot in his pocket.
As he walked toward home with his heavy backpack, he decided today was the day he would stop sitting on the porch watching for his dad. That was kid stuff, and he wanted to show mom how strong he was. He didn’t look up until he pulled the bills and cards from the mailbox. An old bicycle was leaning against the oak tree. He touched the handle bars and checked the tires. Josh could smell the fresh black paint, and the tires looked new.
His mom opened the screen door and asked if there was a card with the bike, but Josh nodded no and shrugged his shoulders. Mom smiled and wiped a tear away with her apron. Sitting on the front steps, she said, “Sit with me awhile, and I’ll tell you about the bicycle. It’s from your dad. Your grandfather gave the bicycle to your dad when he was about your age. The first time I met him was when he delivered Grammy’s groceries to the back door. I’m glad he came by and gave you his bicycle. It meant a lot to him until he was able to get a car. Maybe I can reach out to someone in his family to reconnect. Maybe he is ready to see us again, and we can work on healing our hurt. We may just be friends, but that’s a start. Would you like to see him?”
A smiling son put his arm around his mom’s shoulder and said, “We’re strong enough to try now. Let’s do it.”
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My writing prompt was to write a story with a bicycle in it.
princess2ears 