“Where you headed?”
She didn’t really look at him, didn’t really acknowledge him at all, and he was seconds from walking away in a huff when she finally answered, “Northern California.”
He lit a cigarette of his own. “Not a bad drive from hereabouts.”
“Done it before.”
A mother with a judgmental look on her face approached with two small children in tow; she hurried them past, pulled them by the arms into the safety of the diner.
The bike was cherry, current tags, but she had no helmet. “Cops hassle you much?”
She laughed. “They pull me over to hit on me. I don’t get tickets.”
“Well that’s a mixed blessing if I’ve ever heard one.”
She shrugged, dropped the cigarette at her feet, carefully ground it into the concrete with the toe of her boot. “Ride together for a bit?”
“Sure.” He’d been going South, but that’s life.