Chapter 15

Karin was silent for the first part of the drive back to Albuquerque. Kevin watched the scenery, wondering what was bothering her – for he could tell that there was something on her mind. I wish I knew how to talk to women, he thought. Shoot, I wish I knew how to talk to people. I ain't got a clue on all this stuff.

Karin apparently came to a sudden decision in Carñuel, about halfway back to the city, and pulled off the road onto a frontage road, then onto an unpaved road that led past a Catholic church building. Kevin noted the name on the sign – Holy Child – as Karin pulled into the parking lot and turned off the engine.

"Kevin," she said, "I'm impressed. Today you were everything I could have hoped for. I didn't try to turn you into anything you're not, but what you are turned out to be a very good, kind, polite gentleman."

"Shoot, Karin, I wasn't gonna be disrespectful to your parents."

"I saw that, and I'm grateful. I'm sure you were polite not because of them, but because of me."

"Well..."

"Kevin, you've always been honest with me. Don't stop now."

"Okay, sure, if I'd met 'em in the store or somewhere I'd have been just courteous and went on. But knowing they're your parents ... well, Karin, I care about you too much to treat 'em bad."

"I appreciate it, Kevin. If you had treated my parents badly, that would have been the end of our friendship right there."

"An' I wouldn't blame you. Look, Kar, I never knew my old lady, and my old man was a drunken ba ... a drunk. I never had no parents to speak of. An' I'm jealous o' you, with such wonderful parents. An' your mother's a fox, too. But even if your parents were jerks, I'd o' been polite 'cause o' you. I ain't never been no gentleman, but I know you don't trash people someone you care about cares about ... if that makes any sense."

Karin took his hand in hers. "It makes perfect sense, Kevin." She took a deep breath. "I guess you know why Mom and Dad sent you outside."

"Yeah, an' when you came an' got me you'd been cryin'. What was that about?" And in his mind he thought a word he'd never seriously applied to a woman in his life. What was that about, honey?

"My parents think that you and ... that we're..."

"They think I'm your boyfriend?"

"Yes."

He looked out the windshield. Her hand was warm on his, and he turned his hand over so that they were palm to palm. His callused thumb rubbed over the skin of her hand, and it was soft and warm "And am I your boyfriend?"

"You sound like you're afraid I'll say no."

He looked at her, startled. "I hadn't thought ... but yeah, if you said no – since we're talkin' about it – I guess it would be disappointin'."

"Kevin, I ... I just don't know. We've only known each other six weeks – a month and a half. That's all. And a couple ... boyfriend and girlfriend ... ought to know each other. At least I've always thought so..."

"Things ain't exactly normal for you right now, Karin. You're pregnant. You're gonna have a baby, when..." He did some mental arithmetic. "You're gonna have a baby in June, or around there anyway. You're dealin' with that, an' you're lookin' at havin' to tell people soon or they'll see it anyway. An' your baby ain't got no daddy. Seems to me that maybe some o' the rules are out the window."

"I do want my baby to have a father..." Karin's voice was soft, and sad, and yearning.

"An' I want your baby to have a daddy too. I'm not sayin' I'm the one. Prob'ly I'm not. I mean, I'm just this big ol' dumb biker who don't know nothin' an' maybe is too old to learn. An' on top o' that I'm 12 years older than you are. But whoever the right man is, I want you to meet him, an' ... an' ... an' make him the baby's daddy."

"Even if the right man isn't you, Kevin?" Now her voice had raw pain in it, as though the thought of the right man not being Kevin had lacerated her heart.

"Even if, Kar. Babe, I ... look, I like you a lot, okay? I don't know nothin' 'bout women, an' I ain't never treated women right an' don't know how to. But I care about you ... an' I guess if I was the right man for you an' your baby it would make me real happy. But what I want is for you to be happy, an' your baby to be happy. An' if that means I get on my Hog an' ride out o' town, then just say so an' I'll be gone tomorrow."

"No, Kevin, please stay!"

He looked at her with vast surprise – surprise at the raw agony in her voice. And then came the thrill as he thought, My goin' would hurt her. She cares about me too! "Okay, Karin, I won't go. I'll stay forever if you want – but any time you want me to go, tell me. I'll stay until you tell me to leave, an' if you ever do tell me, I'll go an' won't argue 'bout it."

"Could you do that, Kevin?" From hurt her voice had come to a childlike tone; she sounded as though she were a small girl, dreading the answer.

"If I had to, I could. But I hope I never have to, 'cause it'd tear my guts out."

Karin took in a deep, shaky breath. "So, back to the original question. My parents thought you were my boyfriend, and I told them that you're not. But when I think about it ... I wish you were."

Now it was Kevin's turn to take a deep breath. He covered her hand – which still held his – with his other hand. Big as she was, her hand vanished within his grasp. "Karin, I ain't never done nothin' like this before – never in my life. Prob'ly I'm askin' it the wrong way, but ... would you be my girlfriend?"

"Kevin, I would love you to be my boyfriend."

Neither one knew exactly what to do next, but their faces were close together with the intensity of their discussion. And it became very natural to lean toward each other, and to kiss – gently, tentatively, just seeing what it would be like. And then they kissed again, firmly this time.

When they pulled apart they were both breathless. "Well," said Karin. "Leave it to parents to know better than their children." Her tone was serious, but there was a smile on her face.

Kevin, feeling very bold, reached out a thick finger and touched one of her dimples. "I don't know nothin' – anything – 'bout that. But I sure like your parents."

"Yes, you said that. In fact," Karin said, pointing a finger, "you called my mother a fox."

"Yeah, I did, didn't I?"

"My mother is old enough to be your mother – even though you're older than I am."

"I don't care how old she is, girlie – she's a fox."

Karin giggled. "I wonder what she'd think of that. And what about her wrinkles?"