Werewolves in Love

Although chilly, the weather was still considerably warmer than it had been all winter. An unexpected February thaw had allowed Candace to deliver the Harley Softail Deluxe in person, and it also gave her an excellent opportunity to ride her husband’s bike one last time. She’d donned a thermal undershirt, an extra-thick hoodie, and her heaviest leather riding jacket and gloves. The ride was a short one, but she’d been enjoying every last second of it.
She halted at a stoplight, placing her feet down to balance the motorcycle, the cinders strewn across the street grinding beneath its tires and her boots. With a heavy heart, she let her gaze wander over the powerful machine she straddled. Doug had saved for months to buy the motorcycle of his dreams, including having a very talented artist airbrush the non-chrome areas with a wolf theme. On one side of the tank a black male wolf watched the road, and on the other, a cream-colored female wolf kept vigil. However, Doug only got to enjoy his iron horse for a few weeks before a heart attack claimed his life. Now, a little more than year later, Candace found herself with more bills than money, so the only alternative was to sell the Harley.
Tears pricked her eyes. Please don’t be mad at me, Doug. Your life insurance policy didn’t leave me enough to handle all the bills. I don’t know what else to do to keep the house and pay the property taxes.
The light turned green, and Candace started through the intersection. Luckily, Doug had taught her how to ride. She would deliver the bike to the buyer in person and take the bus back home to her neighborhood. But, oh how she would have loved to keep the Softail! Doug had been right when he’d said she would be bitten by the open road and the only cure for it would be the wind in her hair. She’d indulged herself from time to time, navigating State Route 7 as the Ohio River snaked right alongside it. However, winter kept her from riding, so this trip seemed like a blessing. It gave her one last opportunity to say goodbye to the bike and to her husband.
If business was better, I wouldn’t have to sell this baby to keep our home. She sighed, wishing Veiled Bliss Wedding Consultation would see a surge in customers. Moving into a shitty apartment with a roommate to help me pay the rent makes me ill just thinking about it.
Candace rolled along Market Street in Wheeling. The damp, fishy odor of the river wafting through the street mixed with the diesel from a truck a few yards in front of her and the scent of herbs bursting from a pizza shop midway down the block. Large piles of melting snow lined the sides of the street, preventing only the odd car from parking where someone had taken the time to shovel out a spot. As Candace eyed the mounds of snow splashed with the brown and black residue of puddles from passing vehicles, she prayed spring would be early this year.
Finally, she made the last two turns that led to the civic center and pulled into the parking lot where a tall, dark-haired man in his mid-forties waited for her.
He smiled broadly. “Candace Songvee?”
She forced the kickstand down and shut the bike off. “Yes. Isaac Timbers?”
He shook his head and withdrew a wallet from his back pocket. “Isaac is my brother. I’m Carl Timbers.” Fishing a driver’s license from the wallet, he then held it to her. “My brother had unexpected business to attend to, so he sent me to pick up the Harley Softail. I can’t tell you how excited he is about buying this bike.”
Candace stepped off the Harley and reached for the plastic card. She studied it carefully. “Do you have the cash?”
He strode over to a limo where the driver met him with a large manila envelope. Carl accepted it and returned to Candace. He passed her the envelope. “Check it,” he stated. “The thirteen grand is all there.”
Candace riffled through the stacks of bills as a cold river wind ruffled the hair escaping from her knit cap. Satisfied, she reached inside her leather coat and withdrew the colored envelope holding the Harley’s title and held it out to the man. “The title is signed. Your brother already has verification that the motorcycle was legally transferred into my name after my husband passed away. Should he have any questions, please tell him not to hesitate to call me.”
Carl nodded. He motioned to the driver that he was leaving and then straddled the bike and started it up. “My brother will be thrilled when he sees the motorcycle parked in his garage.” He laughed. “You’ve made him a very happy man.”
“Well,” she gulped down a huge, stinging lump in her throat, “I’m glad the bike is going to someone who will appreciate and enjoy it.”
Carl used one foot to put the kickstand up. With both feet on the pavement, he balanced the rumbling bike. “I realize the weather is warmer than normal today, but it’s growing late and the temperature is dropping, so why don’t you let my chauffeur drive you home?”
“No, thanks. I just need to be alone. I’ll walk or maybe take the bus.”
“You’re sure?”
She nodded.
“Ms. Songvee, don’t worry. I’m sure your husband knows the bike is in good hands.”
Overwhelmed with emotion, Candace waved to him and quickly turned away. Blinded by tears, she decided to take the bus instead of walking and headed for a nearby stop. “I hope you’re right,” she whispered as a tear escaped the corner of one eye.