The Harley's Cost: A Life Forfeited

r of my dad's kitchen fel

ng over for d

'd be my

my left hand still su

worker, trying to get his

, the smell of oregano and ga

side me, a tiny flutter I

ba

already in his favorite

t'll be you

on my apron and h

mile on his face. He wasn't h

id, a littl

epped inside, his

ing wa

Mike, son! Good to see yo

ice tight. "Actually, I... I nee

en table. The sauce simme

k a deep

t's in trouble.

been so passionate,

ouble?" Dad aske

ome crucial server equipment. Without it, we

ly at me then, h

ing... I need this to wor

y. He k

ent to my

"I wouldn't ask, but I'm despera

thou

coffee shop waitress. Dad was a

ng moment, looking at

lot of m

ry cent, with interest. I just... I

face, usually so open,

e nodde

ley," Dad said,

cycle; it was his youth, his freedom, his most prized possess

o," I w

hough his eyes glistened. "Your happiness,

can sell it. It should

Jenkins, I... I don't know what to s

. "See that you don't,

sauce burned

, bought with a piece of my

n my stomach, despit

for the baby, for a life wh

to that

se coul