Page 78 of Dizzy

One lady takes this as an affront. Her nose goes straight in the air, and she folds her arms tighter, giving us her back. The other lady glares.

“That bitch needs to mind her own business.”

“You need to mind yours.”

“What?” I squirm in indignation, try to wriggle loose, but he holds on and chuckles.

“Who gives a shit what Lori McClure and her friend think?”

“You know those women?”

“Lori’s kid is in Parker’s class. They been together since pre-K.”

I’d forgotten it’s a small town. Dalton was the same. Everybody knew everybody, but half the people acted like they didn’t. Folk will be snobs, even if it’s people in twenty-year-old beaters pretending they don’t see folks hitchin’ rides.

“Not very friendly, is she?”

“I wouldn’t expect so. I think she bought her house from my ex. They talk.”

“What’s that mean?”

“That means my ex don’t have much nice to say about me.”

On the one hand, I’m not surprised that divorced people don’t like each other, but my stomach still sours. A crazy ex is a red flag. I learned that from my sisters. Nine times out of ten, the man drove ‘em crazy.

“Why is that?”

Dizzy sucks his cheek. “I’m a biker. I hang around with criminals. I don’t got ambition.”

“You don’t have ambition? You’re a mechanic.”

“Yup. That’s what I always wanted to do. And I don’t never want to do anything else.”

I don’t see how that’s problematic.

Dizzy frowns at my confusion, huffing a sigh as he tucks a flyaway behind my ear. “Sharon and I started in the same place, but we went different directions. That happens long enough, one person looks at the other and don’t understand them no more. It’s human nature.”

“That’s bullshit. Mechanic is a real good job.”

“I agree. But that’s life. One day you’ll decide for sure what you want to do, and you’ll head that way. The people in your rearview won’t mean the same to you anymore. It ain’t a bad thing. It is what it is.”

He turns to watch Carson dangle from the rock wall, his face closed off. He resettles his arm, resting his forearms on his thighs.

I get what he’s saying. I’ve heard people say similar shit before, generally when they’re trying to justify doing what they please. Dee’s changed her life so many times, she’s outgrown everyone in Dalton at least twice.

I ain’t against self-improvement, but I think I’m fine the way I am. I’ve only got complaints about my circumstances. I’ve done what’s needed doin’, though. I’m on my way. To where, I’m not so sure anymore.

“I already did what I wanted to do,” I say.

“Yeah?” He keeps his eye on Carson. “What’s that?”

“Leave Dalton.”

His gaze returns to me, serious and intent.

“Why’d you want to leave Dalton?”

A rawness expands in my chest. I can’t name it, but it fills me up. God, I’ve been waiting for someone to ask me that question. So far, no one has. I didn’t give anyone the chance to ask when I left. I skedaddled before dawn one day when I was finally strong enough, and I figured they’d notice eventually. Or not. I didn’t owe any of them anything.

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