Page 87 of The Mayor and the Mystery Man

Cool. I would take it.

They ran into the car. Dusty stopped me before we left the house.

“What is it?” Concern flushed over his face.

“Leo, when I was a teenager, I babysat for extra cash, like you do. And one time, when the kids were asleep, I went on the deck and smoked a joint. And this was before marijuana was legal.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

He looked out at the kids, arguing over some video on their phone, much like many adults I knew.

“Leo, being with you means being with your kids. I love these kids like they’re my own. They are so frickin talented and smart and kind.”

“Then why do you look pained?”

“Because I am a few steps away from being their stepdad, and I need you to know that I smoked pot when I was babysitting.”

I rolled the sentence over in my head. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“Do you want me around your kids permanently? I don’t know how to parent. Being a parent means being in charge of people’s lives. I can barely manage my own. I’ll be like the mom inHome Alone, except that will happenall the time.”

I barked out a laugh. I wanted to tell Dusty how adorable he was being, but that’d only frustrate him more.

“I’m glad the wellbeing of your children is so hysterical.”

I stroked his arm and came away with smudges of fake blood. “First of all, they’re teenagers who will be getting their driver's licenses soon, so it’s okay if they’re in the house alone.”

Only four years until their driver’s licenses? Fuck, where did the time go?

“Are you sure you want me as their parent?”

“Yes.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you’re not.”

Dusty raised an eyebrow. “I don’t follow.”

“Dusty, you’re concerned about their wellbeing. You’re full of doubts about your competence. You’re constantly afraid you’re going to fuck up.” I paused. “You are a parent.”

Relief flooded his being. If I wasn’t so puppy dog in love with him, I would’ve made him sweat it out a bit more. Just because we were in love and a couple didn’t mean we had to stop messing with each other.

“Let’s race.”

24

DUSTY

Goodbye apples. Hello, gore!

The cutesy, festive fall spirit of Downtown Sourwood I experienced with Applefest was replaced by the haunted merriment of the Zombie 5k. Across the intersection of Maple and Hudson Streets was a huge, inflatable sign that said Sourwood Zombie 5k—START. Runners, many of whom were dressed up like me, congregated at the start, a sea of bib numbers. The street was abuzz with zombies and those cheering them on. Local shop owners set up tents to feed and support those participating. “The Monster Mash” and Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” played on loop.

Lucy took more pictures and filmed the general mayhem of the event. Leo and I found an empty light pole to lean against while stretching. My heart pounded with anticipation. I’d run 5k’s every morning with Leo, but those felt like a rehearsal for the live show of today. The streets were thronged with people coming up to wish us good luck. I was one of them, a part of this town’s beating heart.

“You ready?” Leo whispered in my ear, his grabby hands at my sides.

“Ready to leave you in the dust.”

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