Page 69 of Dahlia Made A List

I stumbled from the couch into the bathroom. As I stepped into the shower, the painful throbbing in my head sent a wave of nausea through my body, wrenching out a loud groan. The warm cascade of water over my shoulders and back gave me a little relief. I reached for the shampoo and massage the soap into my hair, feeling the suds wash away the stench of stale alcohol that seemed to permeate my every pore.

Why the fuck had I drank so much? I closed my eyes, savoring the steam and heat of the shower as it eased some of the aches in my shoulders and neck. Sleeping on a couch about two feet too short obviously ranked high on my list of good decisions. Right up there with getting drunk alone.

I’d head out to The Royal today. Stay focused, keep my mind occupied. Between the drive-in and the Firebird, I’d have plenty to do.

She’d be with clients today. Unless she took the day off to recover from her dinner party. There was a time I would have known her plans. She’d have shared them with me, just like she shared everything.

The rip of pain cutting through my gut just then didn’t come from the hangover.

Landing one hand on the plain white subway tile that lined my shower just as it did Dahlia’s, I leaned, head down, as the water washed over me.

A memory flashed into my head. Dahlia hurrying toward me, nearly skipping in her enthusiasm, her gorgeous tits bouncing, her pretty colorful hair swinging, her bright, beautiful blue-gray eyes shining up at me as she shoved a silver travel mug into my chest. Her flower tea. Good for the heart.

Fuck me.

Why did it hit so hard this morning? Like I’d severed a limb last night not going to her damn dinner party. Who threw dinner parties, anyway? That’s something grandparents did back in the day.

I’d fucking messed up. I missed her more than I’d ever imagined possible. No amount of work at the drive-in would cover over the need burning a hole in my gut.

Was this what waking up meant now? Wake up and miss her. Wake up and regret the choices I’d made. Wake up and want her with every fiber of my being.

I stepped from under the spray of water, dried off, brushed my teeth and tongue and just about gagged to get the taste of sour beer out of my mouth. I wandered into the kitchen, snatched a cold bottle of water from the fridge and swallowed half of it down. Leaning back on the counter, I sipped at the water and let my mind drift to Dahlia. Why fight the inevitable?

Her list complete, she’d be finding new challenges soon. She’d proven to herself she could, so now the sky was the limit. While I drifted through my days feeling sorry for myself.

Something about her list niggled at the edge of my mind. Besides the pets, she’d done everything on her list, though, right?

Then it hit me. She’d never told me what Number Three was. I dissected every memory, every conversation, every word she’d ever said about her list, and there were a million, but no. She’d never revealed Number Three.

And what had Grams said? Something about it being personal. But Dahlia was an open book, a helpless chatterbox. What was so special about Number Three that she’d never shared it?

A wild sense of urgency filled me. Her list wasn’t complete. I had the deed from Grams but I’d promised to help Dahlia with her list. All of her list. And I was always the good grandson.

Iwentby26Redbud first, but she wasn’t there. I ignored the smirk Ms. Lester sent me as I banged on Dahlia’s door for a solid five minutes. She could be ignoring me, angry and hurt that I’d blown off her dinner last night. So I banged on the door another five minutes before Ms. Lester called up from ground level.

“She’s not there.”

I leaned my fist on the door, stared down at my feet, thought about my options. I could call her, but I suspected she’d let me go to voicemail. I could run down her friend Maia. Or check in with Grams.

Straightening away from the door, I turned and descended the steps. Dahlia’s violet blue El Camino sat square in front of the house. I shot a suspicious look toward Ms. Lester who didn’t even try to hide the fact that she had her eye on me.

“Maia picked her up. Think they went over to Richland for something or another. Closed up the salon and everything.”

I didn’t respond, jumping into the truck and heading out to the drive-in. Nowhere better to go to bide my time.

But when I swung back by Redbud late in the afternoon and banged on the door for the second time, there was still no answer. Back in the truck, I gave in and called my grandmother.

“I’m lookin’ for Dahlia, but she’s not answering. You know where she is?”

Gramshmm-ed into the phone. “Believe she and Maia had plans.”

“All damn day?”

“Time can get away from a girl sometimes.”

The urgency from this morning reared its head again. “Grams, you ever find out what Number Three was on her list?”

“Can’t say as I did, no.”

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