Page 67 of A Dash of You

A tear falls and I quickly dab it off the paper, trying not to smear the ink. “My father made this recipe for my mother because of how much he loved her. He always called her his dandelion. I suppose that’s why I love yellow so much.”

To anyone, a dandelion is just a weed, but to my dad, it was life. Love.

Lana lays her head on my shoulder and with her silent comfort, it soothes me. As we sit here, in this moment, I’m thrilled she’s with me. Being alone would have sucked after all. The people here tonight will forever hold a special place in my heart.

A loud bang erupts, and the front door to my old home whips open.

“What are ya’ll doing in my yard?!”

“Time to book it!” Crew shouts.

Logan offers me his hand and I gladly take it as he practically lifts me to my feet, tugging me to his chest. We stay like that for a few warm seconds before the old lady slowly hobbles down the two front steps. The same steps I’ve walked down so many times before.

Logan backs away but doesn’t let go of my hand and we take off for the truck.

“Thank you for the shovel!” I shout. “And sorry about the hole in your yard!”

With Lana and Crew already ahead of us, and the wind ripping through my hair, brushing against my face, a smile forms. It’s refreshing, like being here is the closure I need and sought. As Logan leads me away, I close my eyes, relying on his guidance as I take in the last breeze of air, inhaling deeply and pretending to smell the dandelions.

When we make it to the truck, we can finally catch our breaths and check to see if the old lady decided to go back inside. As expected, she had already disappeared, no longer shouting profanity at us.

It happens so fast, but there’s zero stopping it. A thunderous laughter comes roaring out of me. The kind you feel deep within your stomach. The kind that takes your breath away, forming tears in your eyes. Lana joins me in a fit while Crew and Logan stare with ghostly grins on their faces.

I needed this. It is genuine fun. The carefree nature of what is today.

When I come down from the high, I wipe the tears from my eyes, still clutching my father's recipe box to me. “Thank you guys for coming with me. This was honestly the best time I’ve had in a while,” I speak the truth, finally able to close this chapter of my life.

We’re hours through the drive back to Sunlight Creek. Tired, hungry, and anxious to get back to a somewhat civilization. Leaving gross motels and crazy old ladies behind us. As much fun as this adventure was, I think we’re ready for our own beds.

As day turns to night, we brave one more night sleeping in a hotel bed. At least this place isn’t like the last spot and Loganallowedme and Lana to stay together. How generous of him.

“I’m glad you remembered where your dad’s box was.” Lana walks out of the bathroom toweling her wet hair.

“Me too. It’s the last bit of him I have left.”

We plop down on the squishy bed onto our backs, staring up at the ceiling.

“Thanks for not letting me go alone. I’m glad you’re here with me.”

Lana locks her fingers with mine. “I’m always here for you, Sora. You’re the sister I’ve always wanted.” There’s pain in her voice when she says it.

“Deep down, you love your sister.”

She ignores me. “You should really take a shower. You smell like Logan.”

“What?” I flick her arm and then rise off the bed. “That is not true. And how do you know what Logan smells like?” A rush of jealousy hits me, even though nothing will ever happen between them. But the thought makes me feel weird.

“Anyone within a mile radius knows what Logan smells like,” she states with a smirk.

I smile and shake my head. He did smell good.

Twenty-Three

Logan

The sound of nature is relaxing. A blissful peace that allows me to reminisce on being a kid, but there’s a better reason for me waiting out here and it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with nostalgia.

The condensation from my beer lingers on my hand and fingers as I take another swig.

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