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There’s not much that frightens me. But, right now, I’m terrified. I’m standing in front of my open garage, staring at a monsterJust1 helmet and a Gold Wing trike conversion which I now own. God, it’s big! And it’s yellow. And there’s a huge hole in my savings account. My consternation must have overridden the roar of the school bus going down our street, But the sound of “Hello, Mommy Dearest!” brought me back to the real world. My name is Jenny Lawton, and the chipper cherub walking up the driveway is my precocious 8-year old niece Tawny. Tawny came to temporarily live with me last August when her father decided that marriage and parenthood were “too confining”. He showed his usual knack for bad timing, since my sister Jordan was only weeks away from beginning a year-long internship that would require he to be on call “twenty-four seven.” “When in doubt, circle the wagons and have a good cry,” I said when Jordan called with the news. We live about three hours apart in northeast Texas, and, by mid-afternoon, she and Tawny were pulling up in front of my house. Long walks and boxes of Kleenex brought us even closer together. It was Tawny who suggested the plan. If it was okay with me, she could live at my house while her mother finished her job training. One hundred fifty miles wasn’t too fat for a reunion when schedules were permitted. I love my sis and niece dearly, so the bargain was struck. It wasn’t until the following weekend, when Tawny was watching TV in her new room, that reality set in. “Wow! I’m a mother! What have I done?” The next few days were filled with visions of losing my independence. Would the freedom to jump on my motorcycle and meet up with friends on a moment’s notice be lost? Was I confined to a life selling Girl Scout cookies and attending PTA meetings? Tawny and I stood in front of the yellow three-wheeled behemoth and reviewed her day at school. I had to remind myself that I had arrived at this point with eyes wide open. Since her arrival, Tawny and I had cemented our relationship into one of two best friends. She had proven to be the perfect “instant daughter.” She loved to spend time with me and riding along on my cruiser motorcycle was a large part of that pleasure. In April, we started exploring our options for the summer. Once again, Tawny came up with a plan. It began when she saw a magazine advertisement about traveling in Colorado. Tawny commandeered my laptop computers, bookmarking website covering the southwestern United States. One night, she sat me down and ladi out her plans, a presentation which would have made any CEO proud. “We need to go to the Four Corner states! Do you know where that is?” And she was off and running! For the next thirty minutes, Tawny went over a three-week itinerary. Every detail, every activity was there. She wanted to camp and included a list of national parks that offered campgrounds. She wanted to do all of this one my motorcycle and handed me a list of supplies we would need. Puffing herself with pride, Tawny concluded with, “I hope you will consider my ideas, Aunt Jenny. Good night.” She spun on her heels and retreated to her room—her bunny-rabbit slippers flopping down the hall—leaving me speechless on the couch. It took me about a week to absorb all of Tawny’s ideas and realize that I also wanted this trip to happen. I knew that my small bike was out of the question and began rationalizing the purchase of the trike. Since I wanted Tawny to always have a presence in my life, I felt that a trike would continue to pat dividends for years to come.—Tom Wiley
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