Wait for It

We were all busy looking back and forth between the two huge crate-like boxes on the lawn to really say anything. We all knew what was in them.

When Louie claimed that he’d finally saved up enough money to buy a kit that would get him a quarterpipe so he could skateboard at home, I hadn’t thought much of it. His other aunt had sent him a hundred dollars for his fifth birthday—I would have given him ten if I was in her shoes—and with the cash he’d collected from everyone else, he’d almost reached his goal. I had offered to cover the last fifty bucks he needed to cover shipping.

Fifty dollars for shipping should have been our first warning of what would be showing up. Now that I was seeing it in person, I was surprised it hadn’t been more expensive.

What I hadn’t put together was that his quarterpipe would need to be built.

And who would need to build it?

“Abuelito can help,” Louie croaked almost instantly, wringing his hands from his spot a foot away from his crates.

I glared at him. It wasn’t like I wanted to build his thing, but I didn’t like him assuming I couldn’t do it either. Even though we both knew building things wasn’t exactly my forté in life. He still hadn’t let me live down the bed I’d tried building him when we’d moved into our apartment years ago. “I can do it,” I told him, only sounding slightly offended.

He shook his blond head, his attention still focused ahead. “Grandpa. Maybe Grandpa can help.”

It was Josh who turned to look at me over his shoulder, grinning wide with his mouth open, like he was way too entertained by Louie shutting me down.

I ignored him. “Fine. We’ll figure it out since you don’t trust my skills.”

All Louie did was glance at me over his shoulder and give me an innocent smile. Traitor.

“Hurry up and go get your jackets if you want to go to the movies,” I told them, eyeing the boxes one last time.

They must have immediately forgotten our conversation in the car where we’d agreed to go to the movies, because both boys nodded and headed toward the front door. While they dropped off their backpacks, I let Mac outside even though he could let himself in and out through the doggy door, and refilled his bowl with water and food. Still in my work clothes, I didn’t feel like changing. Plus, we were going to the movies to watch the new Marvel movie, not to go husband hunting.

I was tired already. It’d be a miracle if I didn’t take a nap halfway through the film, no matter how good it was. But we didn’t get chances like these all the time. We probably went to the movies six times in a year with how busy things always were.

On the kitchen stoop, calling out for Mac to come back inside, I heard the loud sound of what could only be a big pickup truck rumbling down the street. It had to be Dallas. That made me smile. With no baseball this weekend, I wondered what he was planning on doing. He’d come home with us a couple of days ago to have dinner as a thank-you for helping out with our lice incident. That was the last time I’d seen him.

Back inside, I rushed the boys out the door, giving Mac a kiss and a promise that we didn’t have any plans for the weekend, for once. I couldn’t believe how much I was looking forward to just hanging out at home. But as I was locking the front door, I heard the boys yelling. And I heard grown men yelling back at them.

Dallas and Trip were outside, hanging out by the front of Trip’s motorcycle. It was the first time I’d seen the shiny Harley. It might have been because he was always lugging around Dean and sports equipment that he didn’t drive it to practice, but I figured a man in a motorcycle club would probably ride it often.

“You wanna come with us?” That was Louie hollering.

Hollering and inviting people as always.

“You’re going to the movies?” Dallas asked, diagonally crossing the street.

Louie rattled off the name of the movie we were watching, and our neighbor, still in his work clothes, glanced at his cousin and tipped his chin up. “What do you say? You wanna go, Trip?”

Trip straightened, catching my eye and winking. “Hey, honey. Mind if we tag along?”

I glanced at Dallas and exchanged a smile with him. He was so scruffy looking. I’d swear there was paint all over his forearms. “If you guys want to, we can squeeze into my car.”

The “hmm” that went through both men had me frowning. “What movie theater were you planning on going to?” Trip asked, and I answered. “Dean’s mom’s place is on the way. J, we could pick him up if you want.”

Like Josh was ever going to say no to hanging out with Dean. “Okay.”

“We won’t fit in your car, but we can go in mine,” Dallas offered.

I didn’t miss Trip’s slight wince.

Dallas didn’t miss his expression either because he gave him a frown. “What? My truck’s clean.”

“I don’t care what we go in,” I told them. “But we should probably go because the movie starts in an hour.”

Dallas glanced down at his clothes for a moment, but I waved him on. “You look fine. Let’s go.”

Trip and Dallas agreed to swap vehicles in the driveway, and in the next few minutes, Louie, Josh, and I loaded into the back, with Trip jumping into the front passenger seat after parking his bike in the driveway. Dean’s mom’s house really was on the way to the movie theater. Trip called her on the way over and Dean was already waiting outside when we pulled up.

“Diana, come ride up here so he can ride in the back with the boys,” Dallas suggested as he put the truck into park.

With another quick swap around of human bodies, I found myself in the center of Dallas’s bench seat, admiring how clean he managed to keep his truck. He wasn’t lying. Unlike his house, there were no wrappers anywhere and no signs of layers of dust. It was a miracle. The only things he had up front was an air freshener in the shape of a pine tree hanging off his rearview mirror and a pack of yellow Post-it notes sitting on the dashboard.

“It’s old, but it works,” the man in the driver seat said to me.

I glanced at him. “I didn’t say anything. I was just admiring how clean it is.”

“You can afford a new one,” Trip muttered.

Something about the way Dallas shook his head at the comment told me this was an old argument between them. The hand he had on the steering wheel gave the worn leather a long, gentle rub. “I don’t need to get another truck the second a new model comes out.”

“You’ve had this one for… what is this? A 1996?”

“A 1998,” came Dallas’s response.

I fidgeted in my seat, keeping my legs closed so that they wouldn’t touch either of theirs. “When did you get her?” I asked.

He nodded, his hand back at the top of the steering wheel, his other palm flat on the thigh furthest away from me. “Bought her brand new. She was my first.”

“The only reason my car is new is because I couldn’t roll around with those two in a Mustang,” I offered him up some support. “That was my first brand new car, and I had loved it. I had my mom’s old Elantra before that.”

It was Trip who squinted over at me. “I can’t see you in a Mustang, honey.”

I snickered. “I was a different person back then. That Diana drove a red one and got speeding tickets all the time. Me now, drives the speed limit and has better things to do than spend my money on speeding tickets.”

Trip’s phone started ringing and he answered it. Next to me, Dallas whispered, “How’s your head?”

I cringed on the inside. “Fine,” I answered. “I have to do the shampoo again in a few days, but I’ve been keeping an eye on the boys and haven’t found any more eggs, so hopefully that’ll be the end of them. Are you okay? No itchy head?”

“No itchy head,” he confirmed. “But if it comes up, I’ll let you know.”

“Sure, sign me up for that combing,” I mumbled right before laughing and getting one back from him too.

Dallas glanced at me for a second before facing forward again, a smile on his mouth, the sound of Josh and Dean behind us talking, filling the air. “What are those huge boxes on your yard for?”

I snorted. “I figured Louie would have tried wrangling you in to build it for him. He saved up money to buy a quarterpipe. But it’s a kit, and it needs to be assembled. I’ll probably ask my dad to come over and help me do it when Louie isn’t around.”

“Why doesn’t he want you to build it?”

“A few years ago, I ordered him a bed online and built it for him. Tried building it for him. He jumped on it once and it collapsed. He hasn’t forgotten about it, and no matter how many times I tried to explain that the bed sucked, he still thinks I did something wrong and that’s why it broke,” I explained to him quietly, so only he could hear.

“Ahh,” he crooned. “I see.”

“Yeah, so if you ever hear him make a comment about my building skills, you know why.”

“Let me take a look at it. I’m sure I can help you if you want,” he offered.

What was I going to do? Tell him no?

* * *

Four and a half hours later, the six of us were elbowing our way out of the packed movie theater. The showing we’d originally intended to see had been sold out, so we ended up buying tickets for the following screening. To kill time, we’d gone to the nearest burger joint for dinner. When I’d gone for the bill, Dallas had swept my hand to the side and said, “That’s cute.”

I wasn’t even going to reminisce on how his forearm had been pressed against mine the entire length of the movie. Dallas’ hazel eyes had met mine the instant our body parts touched and we’d stared at each other. We both wanted the armrest and neither one of us had been willing to give it up.

Actually, I just liked having his arm touching mine. That’s why I never moved it. I really couldn’t have cared less about the armrest, but I would never admit that out loud.

“Can we go play at the arcade, Tia?” Josh asked as we wound our way through the crowd, heading toward the exit after the end of the movie. “Please?”

“Yeah, Dad, can we?” Dean asked Trip.

I wasn’t the one driving; I glanced at Dallas who shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere to be.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

He blinked down at me.

“All right. Sure, go. But once I run out of money, that’s it. I have a bunch of change….” I trailed off as we made our way to the giant arcade by the front doors. The entire movie complex was packed with people going to see the brand-new movie, but there weren’t more than maybe fifteen kids hanging around, playing games. Feeling around the bottom of my purse, I scooped out a handful of coins.

“You got a vending machine addiction I don’t know about?” Dallas joked.

I crossed my eyes as I picked out the quarters and handed an equal amount to all three of the boys. “I would if any of them carried Pop-Tarts. Hold on a sec, guys. I have more.” One more scoop of change from my purse, three five dollar bills from Trip, and a twenty-dollar bill that Dallas gave Dean with the promise that he’d get change and split it between the three of them, and the boys were gone.

“I’m gonna take a piss while we’re waiting,” Trip announced. “I’ll be right back.”

“I think Dean’s having problems with the change machine, let me go see,” Dallas said too, disappearing into the cavern of the arcade.

All right. Keeping an eye toward the front doors, I watched people come inside. I hadn’t thought too much about Anita in the last few weeks, but with hundreds of people coming in and out, I couldn’t help but remember how she’d shown up to my house unannounced. I had no idea where she was even living now, and a part of me was worried it was Austin. I was looking around when something caught my eye on the other side of the doors by the ticket counter. It was something about the golden-brown hair that triggered a memory in my brain and stole the breath right out of my mouth.

From one instant to the next, my stomach started cramping as the man took a step ahead in the winding line of people waiting to purchase tickets.

My head started pounding. My hands started sweating. I was dizzy.

It had been three years since I’d last seen Jeremy, but it felt like days.

My right hand started shaking.

I dropped my head forward and tried to take a deep breath. I was fine. I was fine. I was fine.

I glanced back up to process the sight of the man again. He looked shorter… and no, this man had facial hair. Jeremy had never been able to grow facial hair.

And what would he be doing in Austin?

It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him, I told myself, but still, I couldn’t ease the knot in my stomach or the way my hands were trembling and slick from sweat. It wasn’t him.

“We got it sorted—Diana, what’s wrong?” came Dallas’s voice going from his normal voice to a low, distressed one.

I was fine, I repeated to myself, trying to steel my spine, to stand up straight and catch my breath. It wasn’t him. On top of that, it had been three years. Three long years, and I wasn’t the same person I’d been back then.

“What is it?” Dallas asked again, stopping directly in front of me; his body long and wide, inches away. His voice was low as he noted, “You’re pale.”

When I raised my head and focused on the triangle of brown ink right above the collar of his faded brown T-shirt, I fisted my hand at my side, even as goose bumps spread out over my arms. “I’m all right,” I mostly lied.

“I know you’re not. What is it? You feel sick?” He dipped his face closer to mine, those hazel eyes finding my own even though I didn’t want them to. His eyelids dipped over his irises and that pale pink mouth formed the shape of a frown. “What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t help but look away, biting the inside of my cheek as I let out a breath that was a lot shakier than I would have wanted it to be.

“Someone say something to you?” he asked, his voice getting more worried by the second.

Shit. Shit. Reaching up, I scrubbed my hand over my eyes and met his gaze again. I was fine. What happened had been a long time ago. I wasn’t that person anymore. I wasn’t. “I thought I saw my ex,” I told him, as my throat burned.

Dallas’s expression dropped instantly, and I’d swear his shoulders did too. “Oh.”

“No. It’s not like that. We—” I glanced to my side to make sure the boys were still in the arcade. All three of them were together, hovering by a big game. “Things didn’t end well. I….” God. How could I still feel like such a fucking idiot after so many years? How? I was ashamed of myself for what had happened. How could I tell this man I respected so much that I had been a complete dumbass?

His eyebrows were knit together as he watched me. “You can tell me anything.”

I bit my cheek and tried to swallow my giant pride that had gotten in my way so many times in the past. “I’m not proud of myself, okay?” These stupid-ass tears that were becoming way too common in my life lately filled my eyes but didn’t go any further. “I was an idiot back then—”

“Diana,” he ground out my name, his forehead becoming more lined. Those shoulders that had fallen a second ago came back into position, tight and taut and broad. “You’re not an idiot.”

“I was back then.” I needed him to understand as I glanced toward the doors again, but luckily couldn’t see that familiar color of hair anymore. At least for now. “He… hurt me toward the end of our relationship—”

If Dallas was tall every day of his life, on this day, he seemed to grow half a foot taller. His spine extended, his posture turning into one that would belong perfectly on a statue. His Adam’s apple bobbed and his nostrils flared. And in the deepest voice I’d ever heard, he asked, “He hit you?” His question was pulled out like each word was its own sentence.

“Yeah—”

Those big hands fisted at his sides, and his neck went pink. “Which one is he?”

“Dallas, stop, it isn’t him,” I said, reaching for his shirt and grabbing a handful of it. “It was a long time ago.”

“A lifetime wouldn’t be long enough,” he ground out. “Which one is he, Diana?”

“Please don’t. I’m not lying. I swear it’s not him. He doesn’t even live in Austin. That happened back when I lived in Fort Worth.”

“Is it the guy over there in the green shirt?”

“No—”

“In the red shirt?”

“Dallas, listen to me—”

Was he shaking?

“Stop being stubborn. It isn’t him. And even if it was, I pressed charges against him. He went to jail for a few months—”

“Jail?” He turned around slowly to face me. His face… I’d never seen anything like it before, and I hoped I never did again. He was shaking. “Tell me what his name is, and I’ll put him six feet in the ground.”

I sucked in a breath and couldn’t help but smile at him, even with my eyes all teary. “It’s like you’re purposely trying to get me to love you, Dallas. I swear to God. You don’t even want me to stick my hand down your pants. You want me to want it all,” I laughed, trying to make a joke but failing awfully.

He blinked. Then he blinked again. He grew another two inches it seemed as he stared down at me, that angry face morphing into a serious but somehow slightly softer one.

I smacked him in the stomach with the back of my hand and then reached for his wrist briefly before dropping my hand. “I’m joking. I promise. Just listen to me, all right? I told myself a long time ago I never wanted to see him again, and the boys don’t know about that part of my life. They’ve been through enough shit in their lives. If you don’t let it go for me, let it go for them.”

He stayed quiet, staring down at me for so long, a shiver shot down my spine. It wasn’t until we both seemed to spot Trip about fifteen feet away on a path toward us that he dipped his face closer to mine, his fingers going to my wrist in the same way I had gone for his, but he didn’t move away or let go of me. Our eyes were locked on each other, staring, intense, as he said, “Tell me what his name is, and I won’t say another word about it.”

Trip was even closer.

Shit. I whispered his name. “Jeremy.” And then his last name as Trip’s voice reached us.

“Goddamn that line was long.”

Dallas dropped his hand and took a step back, and if it wasn’t for the fists he had at his sides, I wouldn’t have thought anything was wrong. But I knew, I knew as he glanced around the movie theater that he was looking for someone. He was looking for the man who I had let get too rough with me. Who had squeezed me a little too hard while he was mad over a story I’d told him about me cutting a male client’s hair. The same man who didn’t like the way I smiled at our waiter at a restaurant and had reached under the table and squeezed my thigh so tightly it left bruises. The same person who called me a whore and slapped me and punched me when I had gone out with my friends without him.

No matter how much I smiled at the kids when they came back out of the arcade, I still couldn’t push aside those memories of Jeremy.

If Trip thought the silence in the cab of Dallas’s truck was weird, he didn’t say a word. He was too busy typing on his phone’s screen as we dropped Dean off and headed home. I didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t know what Dallas was capable of saying. I didn’t think he had it in him to be so mad. Hadn’t Trip said something along those words before? How he didn’t get mad?

He had barely parked his truck in his driveway, when he told his cousin, “Help me move those boxes on Diana’s lawn into the backyard.”

“You guys don’t have to do that,” I protested.

Trip walked by me. “Take the help, Miss Independent.”

I couldn’t help it, despite everything going around in my brain, I shook my head at him. “Fine. Help me then.”

Between the two of them, and with one, “What the hell is in these? Lead weights?” from Trip, they carried both boxes into the backyard, holding them high above the four-foot fence with only a small amount of grunting to get them over.

The moment the second one was set in the backyard for Mac to bark at later, Trip wiped his hands on his pants. “I’m gonna get going. There’s some business at the bar I need to handle before it closes. Di, we’ll have a play date again, I’m sure.”

“As long as you don’t ever say ‘play date’ again.”

He laughed and gave me a hug. “See you later, honey. Tell the boys I said bye. See ya, Dal,” he called out, closing the gate behind him with a wave of his fingers as he headed toward his bike.

Josh and Louie had gone straight inside, and it was only us two in the yard with the light outside the kitchen door illuminating the space for us.

There wasn’t a specific emotion on Dallas’s face; in fact, he looked so detached and unemotional, part of me felt like I’d fucked up telling him about who I’d been to let that happen to me years ago. Maybe he saw me different now. He saw that Diana instead of the one I was today and didn’t like her.

I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t like that Diana much either, honestly.

He was looking down at the crates when he finally spoke to me for the first time in almost an hour. “I wanna take a look at the inside so I can see what tools you need. You have a hammer by any chance?”

When I had started rubbing my palm on my jeans, I had no idea. “I have tools. I have a hammer. Let me grab it. It’s inside.”

Dallas still didn’t glance up as I went into my kitchen and grabbed my toolbox from one of the cabinets, lugging the colorful, metal container against my leg as I headed outside with it.

“God, this thing is heavy,” I told him as I walked down the steps with it. His attention was still on the ground as I dropped it right beside one of the crates, admiring the paint job my best friend had given it.

But as I looked up at the man who I thought was my friend and had just, barely an hour ago, offered to go kill someone for me, I frowned. He was staring, really staring, down at my toolbox. And as furious as his expression had been when I told him about my ex, it was nothing compared to the one that he had right then.

What was wrong with my box?

I toed it, glancing back and forth between it and him, not understanding. “It was my brother’s. I kept it after we sold most of his stuff, but it made me too sad and my best friend painted it for me. I thought it was fun. They look like those Giga Pets I used to have when I was a kid,” I explained. “They’re puppies. Who doesn’t like puppies?”

The exhaled, “Jesus fucking Christ,” had me frowning at Dallas.

I watched as both his hands went up to his head and he cupped each side of his skull, interlacing his fingers at the top.

“What is it?” I asked, suddenly getting a little frustrated at his reaction.

He didn’t seem to hear me as he sighed, the sound distraught and almost furious.

“What the hell did I do?” I asked him, not understanding but wanting to.

Dallas was still focused on the toolbox when he answered me, his voice thick and strained. “I can’t do this tonight, Diana. I can’t fucking do this right now.”

“Do what?”

“You’re—” He closed his eyes and covered them with his palms for a moment before dropping his arms at his sides. He finally raised his gaze to mine, something in those hazel irises looking pained as he said, “I’ll help you build it. Don’t ask your dad. I just can’t do it right now. Okay?”

“That’s all right.” I took in his stricken features all over again. “Are you okay?”

He lifted a hand but didn’t confirm yes or no. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He took a step back and eyed my toolbox one more time, his chest taking a big inhale and a bigger exhale. “Night.”

“Goodnight,” I called out to him as he turned and headed out of the backyard through the gate, closing it behind him. Then he was jogging across the street and disappearing up his pathway to his deck.

What the hell had just happened?