Page 17 of Loud Unspoken Memories

There is a crinkle in her nose. I can tell she’s making a mental list of everything she’ll need to do before service goes out again. I turn away when I realize I might like that crinkle. I might like it a lot.

I walk faster.

Instead of yelling at me to slow down, she surprises me by keeping up. What surprises me more is that she’s not complaining about it. I don’t know Marti well, but from what I do know, the woman loves to complain.

“Charles used to like hiking. We didn’t have hills in Florida, but there were always trails. You know, if you don’t mind snakes and alligators.”

Charles. As in Charlie’s father. He was named after his dad just like DJ was named after me.

My dream is suddenly front and center as I recall an older DJ sitting in the chair looking up at me. Not a day goes by when I don’t think about what he would look like. He’d have been three soon, his birthday falling in just a few days. I was hoping to be able to go to town and get a jumbo-sized bottle of tequila to help get me through the day. Now, though, I’m thinking I might be stuck with just wine.

“You really don’t talk much, do you?” she asks.

“Don’t have much to say.” I try to think of something just to be polite. “So your son was on vacation with your ex?”

“They went up for Anita’s family reunion and Thanksgiving.”

Right. Thanksgiving is coming up. It’s the day before DJ’s birthday… just another day I no longer celebrate.

“That’s nice of you letting your ex have him over the holidays.”

“Charles and I split custody. Charlie lived with him exactly half the time. It worked out well, actually. And now… now I’m going to be a full-time single mom. I still can’t believe it.”

“Yeah, well, there are worse things.”

I don’t turn, but I can feel her staring a hole in the side of my head. I walk even faster. And damn if she doesn’t keep pace the entire way.

Chapter Eight

Martina

Worse things?

Than being a full-time single parent? Than Charlie losing his dad?

Dallas is mysterious. Guarded even. While I’ve often been accused of having verbal diarrhea and spewing out every thought that crosses my mind, he seems to hold all his cards close to his chest.

Finally, I see my car come into view. It’s even more mangled than I remember. Dallas was right. I’m fortunate to be alive and that a bump on the head and bruised-up wrist are my only injuries. And more than that, I’m lucky he found me.

My car is buried under a foot of snow, and when I peek inside, snow and ice cover the dash and front seats. I’d have been an icicle for sure.

I pop the trunk, open my suitcase, and motion for the backpack. “Do you mind?”

Dallas is lost somewhere in his own head. He’s staring into the back seat of the car, probably wondering if I could have survived the night there.

Maybe I could have used Charlie’s car seat to plug up the gaping hole in the windshield. But that wouldn’t have helped with the cold. The engine is dead. I had no blankets. No hat or gloves. I shudder at how close Charlie came to losing both parents in the span of just a few days.

“Dallas?” I walk to the side of the car and put a hand on his back.

He flinches and his eyes snap to mine. “What? Oh, yeah, here.” He hands me the empty backpack and I get started transferring everything I can fit into it.

I packed quickly when the phone call came. Through my tears, I stuffed clothes into a suitcase without even thinking about the enormous differences in weather between where I was coming from and where I was going.

When I pull out my undergarments, I peek around the trunk at Dallas. My cheeks heat at the thought of him touching the lace of my bra or the satin of my favorite panties. My heart pounds when a sudden image appears in my mind of him removing the garments from my body.

When he looks over and his eyes lock onto mine, he studies me, and I wonder if he knows what I’m thinking. He’s not looking at me like he wants to bed me. It’s more of a pensive look, as if he’s trying to read me. Despite the cold, warmth spreads throughout my body, pooling in places I swear had gone dormant.

I clear my throat, look away, and go back to the task at hand.

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