Grabbing Hold (The Motorcycle Kid #1)

51. Boardwalk

Let's pretend I didn't start working on this chapter in the middle of my exams, because then I won't feel so bad about taking so long to finish it. This has also got to be the longest chapter I've ever written, so I apologize in advance.

Side note, I'm going to need another five or ten chapters at least in order to properly conclude the storyline without things feeling too rushed. Hope you don't mind the extension. (By the way, the events of this chapter run simultaneously with those of the last chapter, right up until Emmett's phone call.) Enjoy 😊

Ryder had been on edge for hours. Even now, as he placed the freshly baked brownies on the display tray, he was antsy, and he knew his coworkers could tell it. Talking to Emma earlier had helped to a certain extent, but fear had returned a couple hours before, when Drew had texted him back, telling him Eileen had left his house. Ryder had demanded answers, wondering where his mother could've gone and why Drew's mother had let her leave alone.

Would you chill out? Drew had practically yelled as soon as he had answered Ryder's phone call, which had followed about twenty messages. She seems fine!

Ryder couldn't stop himself from worrying about Eileen, regardless of how fine she may have seemed to his best friend. He'd tried calling his mother multiple times with no answer. He'd even tried sending a message through Drew's mom, and the response – I don't think she wants to talk to you – solidified his belief that whatever Eileen was up to, she didn't want Ryder to know.

"Hey, you in there?"

Ryder was startled back into reality as Matt waved a hand in front of his face.

"Sorry, did you say something?"

Matt scowled at the young man before him. "I've been talking for the last minute." He sighed heavily, shoulders sagging. "I was asking if whether Denise started working on the anniversary cake for the Bransons, it's scheduled for pickup tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh, yeah, I think I saw her mixing batter earlier. Do we have any other special orders?"

"Let's see," the older man replied, pulling a tiny notepad Ryder hadn't noticed from the pocket of his apron. He pawed through the pages, stopping when he reached the one he sought.

"Alright, so there's the Bransons' for tomorrow, as well as some quesitas and Mallorca for Ms. Alvarez down on Windy Drive, a birthday cake and twenty matching cupcakes for Thursday, and fresh banana bread for Fri- wait, when did you say you were leaving again?"

"Friday morning bright and early," Ryder replied, his own words reminding him that he still had a significant amount of packing left to do before he could leave Misty Vale. Thankfully he had an afternoon shift on Wednesdays, so he could pack in the morning before he headed over to Beans n' Stuff.

"Ah, that sucks, you're pretty good at Mexican food-"

"It's Puerto Rican." Ryder emphasized. He rolled his eyes as Matt waved him off.

"Same difference, man," he said dismissively. "What matters is that it tastes good and you can make it. You've been quite an asset to the team."

Yeah, but not enough of an asset for you to acknowledge where I actually come from, thought Ryder, though he was used to being lumped, like most other Spanish speakers, into the generic box of "Mexicans". Though he saw the ease that came with the generalization, it got pretty annoying having his own true ethnic heritage erased because people were too lazy to educate themselves.

"Okay," Ryder said with a quiet chuckle.

"Well, you should get back to the kitchen, we still have a lot of work to finish up before your shift ends. I'm going to need all hands on deck for the afternoon rush."