by Xavier Neal
“I’m just saying!”
“You’re always just saying.”
“Come on, you’re gonna end up seeing each other like what, four times a year? Maybe at holidays? Maybe at birthdays? What kind of relationship is that? And be honest, you know of those four times, it’s probably going to be you paying for everything! He’s broke-”
“He’s not broke, Cordie.”
“He’s fucking close enough.” She has another slurp. “Where does all of his fucking money go? Gambling addiction?”
“His family.”
“So he comes from a broke as fuck family? Is that really any better?” She doesn’t pause in her rant. “Not to mention he’s a fucking control freak. He expects your entire life to revolve around your phone just because his does! Um…newsflash backwoods boy! There’s actually other shit to do in the city unlike where you live.”
Her hateful tangent expands the knot in my throat.
Maybe this is really why he hates me going out with her. Because her fickle feelings are blatantly transparent. Apparently, he was fine to party with for a few days on an island, but not to date seriously. He’s okay to go home to at night when she’s got a bed pal, but is a buzz kill when she needs someone to distract her target’s needy best friend. Most days she stands by her idiotic prediction that her and I will run into some random dude wearing an expensive suit and he’ll be the one to sweep me off my feet. Thing is…I’ve already been swept off of mine by an extremely sexy country man who’s just as miserable away from me as I am him.
“And-”
“Enough,” I grumble, reaching for my glass.
“But-”
“I said enough, Cordie.”
She furrows her eyebrows.
“I get it. You don’t like Dusty, but I do. I love him.”
“You-”
“No, Cordelia. I do. This isn’t just a vacation romance that’s gone past its expiration date. This is something very real and very strong and for once in your selfish existence, you’re gonna have to learn to give a little support or shut the fuck up.”
A stunned expression appears on her perfectly painted complexion.
“Being apart from Dustin is hard enough without a best friend babbling on hatefully in your ear because she thinks she’s lost a wingman.” I have a minor sip. “I’m still here. I still meet you for drinks and dancing and uppity charity galas. I’m still by your side when you need me, so grow up, and be there when I need you, too. Like now.”
She swallows her shame and briefly looks away. When our eyes meet again, she asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Everything….I’m angry because he took his frustrations out on me. I’m sad because I can’t physically be there for him when he’s clearly having a shitty day. I’m excited about potentially moving up at work and the fact I’ll actually get to see him tomorrow night for a few hours, which he doesn’t know yet because he took his frustrations out on me, which leads me back to being angry.” My glass soars to my lips for another drink. “How’s your day?”
She gives me a shrug. “Uneventful in comparison, for sure. Wanna keep venting?”
My face angles skeptically at her.
“Judgment free. I swear.”
The look remains.
“Seriously. You rarely go all Huffy the Emotional Slayer on me. On the rare occasions you do, I know you mean it. You’re right. You’re always here for me, so go ahead. Sing like a canary. Tell me everything, and afterwards we’ll go buy you a sexy new pair of panties from Clara’s Culotte for your visit.”
Her suggestion is overheard by Ruben who is placing down our order of fried goat cheese balls. “You should get them in red. Men like red.”
Cordie flirts, “That explains their interest in me.”
I roll my eyes.
“Trust me. My wife bought some lingerie in red and it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen her wear.”
“Ugh,” my best friend huffs at the same time she reaches for one of the balls. “I always assumed you never hit on us because you were gay not married.”
He lightly chuckles. “Never good to assume things, gorgeous.”
His point shifts my attention back to where my phone is lighting up again.
Man’s got a valid point. Dustin’s assuming every time I go out we’re into some sort of trouble, and I’m starting to assume it means he doesn’t trust me. We have to both stop. Talk. Discuss these things rationally. Maybe it’s something we need to do face to face. Maybe saying what I need to, while physically being able to touch will help soothe some of his fears. I don’t blame him for having them. I blame him for the way he handles them. Guess my visit tomorrow won’t be all sex and sunshine….
Chapter Six
Dustin
“Are we or are we not up to code?”
“Technically yes. But-”
“Then sign the damn paperwork, so I can get back to my job,” the woman bitterly snips.
I can’t stop myself from hesitating.
The technicality won’t last ‘em much longer. From the inspection I just did in combination with what I’ve come to learn over the years, their main elevators might make it another three or four months. Five, if they’re lucky. My fear is always the same in older buildings like this. I worry they’ll break down with women or children inside of ‘em, and then something worse spontaneously happens leaving ‘em stuck. Stuck in an unbearable or life threatenin’ situation. Yeah, it costs a bit extra to get the little shit taken care of sooner, but in the longevity it saves you money, stress, and time.
“Are you gonna sign it or just stare at my tits all day?”
“Definitely ain’t lookin’ at those,” I mumble and scribble my signature on the paperwork.
Why would I? Pushin’ aside the fact I’m a taken man, with a woman whose rack belongs in an old-fashioned centerfold, I never cross that line of work and personal. There have been numerous times and numerous chances, but it’s not how I operate, nor was it how I was raised.
On my way out of the apartment building, I check my phone for a missed call or a text from Carly.
The background picture of us in a pool lounge chair tightens my chest.
Of course, there’s nothin’. Not even sure I would reply to me either after the stunt I pulled yesterday.
I walk back to my truck, face cringing at the endless downtown noise.
Why on God’s green earth people enjoy listenin’ to this is beyond me. Why would you want horns and endless lights when you can hear the wind blowin’ and let the stars light up the sky? Why trade roads with no traffic for busy ones with frequent accidents?
Carly’s face flitters around in my mind.
That’s why.
The drive to Cody’s house on the outskirts of downtown is taxing. Bumper to bumper movement. People running red lights. Pedestrians ignoring cross walk signals. It’s like this every evenin’ and every mornin’. People choose this bullshit. Every damn day.
All of a sudden my phone vibrates in the cup holder. I quickly snatch it up to check if it’s Carly and almost rear end a BMW that decides to stop at the yellow. My abrupt action almost causes the car behind me to collide with my back end.
On a loud, frustrated sigh, I answer the call, immediately putting it on speaker. “Hey, momma.”
“Dusty,” her voice coos over the sound of running water. “You off work? You swingin’ by?”
“Goin’ to Cody’s for dinner,” I promptly reply.
Didn’t wanna go home and sulk alone. Figured a little time with my fam might cheer me up. Maybe even get some decent advice on how to undo what I did from Lynette. She’s the only woman I can rely on for that kinda thing.
“Oh, kiss the girls for me.”
“I will.”
“You still comin’ by on Sunday? Your dad could really use the extra hands to fix that fence on the backside of the property. That thing jus' won’t stay up.”
Because the wood’s damn near rotted and he can’t exactly cough
up the cash to completely replace it. The extra money I’m rackin’ up for the overtime I’m puttin’ in could definitely help…but I’m tryin’ to save to go spend time with Carly. Flights ain’t cheap. And even though I won’t need a hotel room or a car, I still gotta eat. She damn sure ain’t payin’ for everything. Not to mention coverin’ the vacation time I don’t exactly have right now due to the trip that brought us together.
“I could also use a hand pullin’ up some weeds.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Will you stop by Smitty’s and pick me up a bag of soil too?”
“Of course, momma.”
“Good,” she sighs at the same time I accelerate. “We’re also havin’ the Marshalls come out. You know their daughter Emily jus’ moved back to town….And she’s also single.”
My jaw locks.
Not tellin’ them about Carly isn’t because I’m ashamed of her. It’s because I know them. They’ve stacked the cards against her before she’s even sat down at the table. Big city women are all fast and loose. Lack good families and morals. The shit they said about Lynette when Cody first brought her around was ugly. Almost ripped him completely out of their lives. Every chance they had they were sayin’ somethin’ snide. It wasn’t until he made the abrupt announcement she was gonna be the mother of his child that they even backed off. They still don’t like her, and they still make rude comments when she’s not in earshot, but she did give them grandchildren, which they’ve always wanted. Lynette also has something in her favor Carly doesn’t. It hurts my heart to admit it, but the extra color I love in my girl’s skin is the top reason they’re goin’ to have a problem with her. They’ll most likely lecture me about us bein’ too different, ‘bout havin’ nothin’ in common, when really, it’s jus’ fear of the whole town talkin’. Fear of havin’ the unknown in their house. Fear of change. Eventually, they’re gonna have a bitter pill to swallow, and I’m not doin’ anything but prolongin’ it….I jus’ hope they can get past it. The last thing Carly and I need is more problems with less solutions.
“Momma-”
“I know you say you’re not lookin’, Dusty, but we’re not gettin’ any younger. I wanna have grandbabies from both my boys.”
Oh, she’ll have ‘em….assumin’ Carly ever talks to me again….I jus’ need her to love ‘em regardless of what shade their skin might be.
“Besides, you’re over thirty. It’s time to start settlin’ down.”
“I’m only thirty one, momma.” Free from the confines of downtown congestion, I take the on ramp of the highway. “You’re talkin’ like I’m almost fifty.”
“I’m talkin’ like I wanna be able to play with my grandkids while I’ve still got knees that remember how to bend.”
The joke shifts a short smile to my face.
“Promise me you’ll give Emily a chance at dinner.”
I switch lanes. “I can’t promise that.”
“Dustin James Coleman, you will give that girl a chance. Am I makin’ myself clear?”
Instead of jumping into a heated argument I don’t have the emotional capacity for, I abandon the entire conversation. “Gotta go, momma. Comin’ up on Cody’s house.”
She hums disapprovingly. “Fine. Tell ‘em I said hi and don’t eat too much of Lynette’s cookin’. You know she puts too much salt in everything.”
This from the woman who salts her food before and after she cooks it.
“Make sure you get home safely.”
“I will.”
Ending the call allows for a long overdue deep breath.
Is this irony or somethin’? Here I am stressin’ over the idea Carly’s out with someone else, lookin’ for a man who would fit easier into her life, while my family is actually pushin’ me to put someone into mine?
I take the next exit and drive the last five minutes to my brother’s house in suffocating silence. Unlike downtown, I can actually find solace in the suburbs. Get a house with a yard big enough and you can recreate some of the muddy day fun or let the kids wear themselves out chasin’ the dog in circles. You have less privacy with your neighbors so close, but at the same time you have more because, unlike a small town, what you do doesn’t necessary travel its way from one end of the county to the other. In the suburbs, your neighbors may never know more about you than the car you park in your driveway. That same thought is a bit disheartenin’ though. I like the sense of community a smaller town provides. I like goin’ to the hardware store and bein’ treated like a person rather than jus’ another random customer. It’s a fine line to walk and as much as I hate to say this, when it comes time, because I know eventually it will, I’ll have to ask Cody for his advice because truthfully? He balances all three walks of life pretty well. Small town time with us. Family time in suburbs. Work in the big city. The longer I date Carly, the more in awe of him I’m secretly becomin’.
As soon as I step foot through the door my four-year-old nieces come barreling towards me. “Uncle Dusty!”
I immediately bend down and swoop them both up. Their tiny lips plant kisses on my cheeks while their legs wrap around me. “The two women I know will never break my heart.”
They giggle in tandem, yet it’s Lyndsey who speaks first. “Look, Uncle Dusty. I gave my doll a haircut.”
She waves the Barbie I got her from my vacation in front of my face. The new length now resembles the woman I can’t wait for them to meet.
Another round of pain thrums through my chest.
What if they never do? What if they never meet the person who is supposed to give them cousins to play with?
“I gave mine new shoes!” Lacey exclaims in competition. “These are better for her dancin’ to Any Man of Mine.”
The first two notes are barely off her tongue before Lyndsey is interrupting. “Mine likes Fancy better!”
She starts singing the Reba McEntire classic, while her sister counters loudly with Shania Twain. Both manage to sing in impressive pitches, though the songs clash when they’re being forced to blend together.
They’ve been attached to those damn Barbies since they got ‘em. Not jus’ when I’m around either. Accordin’ to my brother and his wife, those dolls are their favorites. They wanna take ‘em everywhere and are always beggin’ to get ‘em new accessories. Cody’s proud of the fact the dolls’ skin tone didn’t deter them away, and Lynette’s thrilled at the idea her daughters’ dollhouse is startin’ to look a little more like the real world. Between the Barbies I bought ‘em and the never ending supply of Fashion Kens Lynette’s little brother purchases, they’re learning a little about diversity.
Thankfully, their mother strolls into the room, which prevents me from having to comment on the toys that are taunting me. “Hey, Dusty.”
“Evenin’, Lynette.”
She finishes drying her hands. “Girls, go wash up for dinner.”
“Yes ma’am,” they answer in unison before wiggling back down to the floor.
Once they’ve disappeared out of direct earshot, she lifts her light eyebrows upward. “You’re heartbroken?”
“More like heart achin’,” I sigh and cross over to her to drop a kiss on her cheek. “Carly hasn’t spoken to me since yesterday.”
The two of us head towards the dining room table where plates are already set. “What’d you do?”
My head sways side to side in contemplation. “I said somethin’ that was way out of line.”
She watches me plop down into a chair. “Which was?”
I shake my head.
“Come on, Dusty. Fess up.”
“Rather not.”
“Then no dinner for you,” Lynette casually declares.
“Why are we denyin’ my little brother food?” Cody questions as he enters the room. “He insult you? He need a knock to the head?”
“He probably does, but I don’t know why,” she replies. “He did something to piss off his girlfriend so bad she won’t even talk to him.”
“What’d you do
?” Cody asks, sliding into the seat at the head of the table beside me. “Forget an anniversary or somethin’?”
My nieces come rushing to the table, dolls still in hand, and begin to climb into their booster seats across from me.
Lacey’s smile is bright. “Why do you look so sad, Uncle Dusty?”
The hint of an accent to her speech only builds my faith more about raising my own family in the suburbs.
Best of both worlds. Beautiful compromise. Now, how to convince Carly to move to Texas is the other big issue I’m avoidin’.
“Your frown needs to turn upside down,” sings Lyndsey.
“I’m here with you girls, so I have no doubt it will.”
They giggle and Lynette starts bringing dinner to the table. While her threat from before was obviously an idle one, it doesn’t stop her or my brother from giving me skeptical looks during our meal. I avoid discussing Carly, not wanting to confess boyfriend crimes nor let the twins in on my dating life since they lack the not gossiping to grandma filter. Once our plates are empty and they’re sticky from ice cream, Lynette sends them off to wash themselves for bed, promising Cody will read them books as soon as I leave.
My big brother waits until he hears the sound of running sink water before commanding, “Tell us what you did, Dusty.”
I let out a heavy exhale and slink down into my seat. “Picked a fight yesterday. Took my frustrations out on her.”
Lynette tries to offer me a sympathetic smile. “That type of shit happens with couples all the time. Let her cool off, and I’m sure everything will be fine.”
Yeah…I’m not.
“What exactly did you say?” Cody tilts his head in curiosity. “’Cause I can only think of a handful of things that make a woman ignore you this long. ‘Nette’s right. Couples go through that type of shit all the time, but typically by this point, the pissed off party has at the very least snapped back or expressed the need for a little breathin’ room.”
“Good point,” his wife promptly agrees. “What did you say?”
“I….” The words tear up my throat like razor blades. “I more or less told her she dresses like a whore and accused her of tryin’ to cheat on me.”
