Damaged and the Bulldog (18 page)

Six months into our marriage, I had a light bulb
moment. I never understood why Winnie freaked out about certain things or
people, but not others. When a giant biker from the club picked her up and spun
her around, she only laughed. Yet the pimply teen pizza guy sent her into a
panic. I saw no rhyme or reason to her fears.

One day while Winnie worked on my business invoices, I
sat admiring her beauty. Suddenly, she flinched and looked out the window. With
anyone else, I’d think their gut was warning them. With Winnie though, nothing
happened. Her instinct was all wrong.

The Vandals didn’t only damage her confidence. They also
destroyed her instinct. She feared innocent things, yet embraced scary things
when she shouldn’t.

This realization helped me view Winnie’s problems like
a disability. If she had poor sight, I wouldn’t get frustrated when she
couldn’t see something. If she couldn’t hear and needed things repeated, I wouldn’t
expect her to get over it. Her inability to know a true threat from an
imaginary one was just another broken sense.

Over the years, Winnie figured me out too. If I was
tense, she’d bounce around and pretend to fight me.

“You need to fight someone or fuck me. Either way, you’ll
calm down.”

The choice wasn’t difficult and I always chilled out
after she gave me her ultimatum. Yeah, Winnie had my number.

Plenty of people felt we rushed into marriage. My dad
was one of them, always making shotgun wedding comments. Once I showed him how Aaron
reworked my demon tattoo into a Grim Reaper, he backed off. I officially had no
allegiance to my dad anymore. My heart belonged to Winnie and my loyalty to the
club. Larry was a bad memory from my past.

Three months into our marriage, we adopted a kitten
Winnie named Cookie. Eight months into our marriage, we brought home a bulldog
I wanted to name Monster. Instead, Bailey suggested Horny Toad and her
suggestion stuck. When the kids came along, we shorted the dog’s name to Toad.

On our first anniversary, Winnie decided she wanted to
have a baby. Once she got an idea stuck in her head, I didn’t waste time
disagreeing. Like our first night together, Winnie decided something and I
enjoyed the results.

Shelby was three months old when Winnie wanted another
one. I worried it was too soon after her C-section and we were still getting
the hang of one baby. Winnie refused to budge and Shane was born ten months
later.

The boss man in me liked knowing our family was
complete. The only child in me worried the kids wouldn’t have enough siblings
to enjoy what I missed growing up. Fortunately, Shelby and Shane were crazy
about each other. Shy like their mom, the kids enjoyed each other’s company
more than other kids. Even the crew’s kids were kept at arm’s length for years
except for River. Vaughn and Raven’s oldest boy spent hours at our house,
playing in the backyard with his best friends.

Raven decided to homeschool her army of blond kids after
attending River’s kindergarten orientation. Apparently, the other moms sucked.
She worried her kids might end up polluted by the same lameness if they
attended public schools. Despite Winnie being homeschooled, I thought the
Rogers were nuts. Hell, everyone did. We mocked Raven and Vaughn constantly
about their baby factory, hippy van, and of course the names.
Cavalry? Oh,
and Denver! They’d never even been to Colorado!
Their last baby was lucky
enough to be named Sylvie, though she ended up with the nickname “Eight is
Enough.” Homeschooling was another wacky thing the V-Team did that I didn’t
understand.

Yet on Shelby’s first day of kindergarten, our Winnie
look-alike stared at her brother and I knew we were in trouble. She burst into
tears, causing her mini-me Shane to do the same. Soon, Winnie was sobbing too.
No way could we arrive at school on time and showing up late was out of the
question for a shy kid. By the next day, Winnie was their teacher and I suffered
ribbing from Nick for following in the hippies’ footsteps.

Along with teaching the kids, Winnie acted as my
office manager. She also helped Bailey run an array of businesses for the
Johanssons. The club had trouble finding someone to do their financials and
trusting the person wouldn’t hurt the Reapers. Winnie was someone they could
trust and she loved helping the club who gave her a second chance.

Once Cooper realized Winnie had a knack for organizing
such things, he handed her more and more work. She loved doing it too because
she handled it all from home. Seeing her so confident inspired me to find her
space to spread out.

We moved into our new house when Shane was ready for
kindergarten. Like his sister, he preferred a home setting. Our new home had space
for a classroom, a playroom for the piles of toys, and an office for Winnie. We
also got a hot tub that I spent many evening in with my pretty lady while the
kids played nearby.

Not long after we moved into the house, my mother
finally met Winnie and the kids. I’d managed to avoid seeing Larry around town,
but eventually Mom nagged me into having her visit.

Mom patted the kids on the heads and looked at Winnie
like she was the maid. I worried they might be hurt by her coldness. Oh, they
had her number.

Once Mom met Toad and claimed the sleeping dog looked
dangerous, Winnie rolled her eyes and gave up on making a good impression. An
hour later, Shelby explained the bulldog tattoo on my arm was named Frog to go
with the real bulldog’s name. My mom shook her head and said she didn’t
understand. At that point, the kids lost interest in her. She tried to get them
to care about her opinions, but they only humored her. I guess I raised them
too well or they took after their mom too much. Either way, the kids merely
tolerated her and Mom never visited again.

Her absence meant the same as Larry’s.
Nothing.
I had a huge family with the Todds, the church parishioners, the Reapers, and
of course the crew. Our house never went without visitors. We were always
hosting sleepovers for River or dropping by someone’s house for meals.

After a lifetime feeling like I didn’t belong, I
suddenly couldn’t turn around without bumping into someone I considered family.
I was truly blessed. In fact every night, I tucked my kids in bed then kicked
the dog out of my bedroom followed by the cat. Finally, I was alone with
Winnie. Each time, she looked at me as if confused about what I might want.
Hell, if even after all these years together, she still didn’t make me beg.

Living
in Indiana with my three sweet sons, two wacky cats, one super mom (and her
ugly dog), I love writing, blogging, and Denny’s. Follow me:

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***Bijou
Hunter is the pseudonym of author Angela Horn.