Page 4 of Script Swap
Not that Ineededhim to do more than that.I didn’t need him to do anything.
But.
I didn’t have a chance to dwell on thatbut,because at that moment, Mr.Li stopped and handed me a giant fountain drink.“I accidentally bought the combo,” he said with a rueful grin.“Why don’t you take this and help me out?”
“Oh, no—” I began.
But Mr.Li was already moving on, and Brad Newsum of Newsum Decorative Rock was pressing a box of M&M’s into my free hand.“I forgot I don’t like chocolate,” he said as he hurried away.
“What—”
“This is so embarrassing,” Tessa—Millie’s boss from Chipper—said as she juggled two enormous buckets of popcorn.She looked at my full hands and handed the popcorn to Bobby.“You’re a lifesaver.”
That was when Mr.Cheek—that’s Mr.Cheek of Fog Belt Ladies Wear, who is Deputy Bobby’s number one fan—stopped in front of us.He playfully whipped Bobby with a Red Vine until Bobby put his hands on his hips, and then hegiggledand scurried away.(Leaving the box of Red Vines with Bobby.)
I was about to ask what was going on when I happened to catch a glimpse of Millie at the concession stand.
Talking.
Loudly.
“—AND HE’S NOT SICK OR ANYTHING!”
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
Bobby was smiling.“I think it’s sweet.”
“It’s not sweet, Bobby.It’s humiliating.”
“Everyone loves you.”
“Not everyone.Not Mr.Cheek.”
Bobby didn’t exactly roll his eyes.
“One time he told me he had a shiv!And then he said, ‘If you ever hurt him’!”
I kid you not: Bobby lookedpleased.He managed to squash the expression (somewhat) as he said, “What’s going on?You love getting snacks when we go see a movie.”
Which was true.I did love getting snacks when we went to see a movie.If there’s a more perfect combination than fresh movie-theater popcorn and M&M’s, I don’t know what it is.(Okay, it might be strawberries and chocolate.Or it might be cinnamon and chocolate.Or it might be chocolate and peanut butter!) But that had all been before.More specifically, before Project Dashiell Dawson Dane 2.0.Before the New and Improved Dashiell Dawson Dane.The one who didn’t brag to Keme that he could eat his weight in gummy worms.
But it looked like Project Dashiell Dawson Dane 2.0 was going on hiatus.
Just until tomorrow.
I was helping myself to a handful of popcorn when Fox came back.With them was an older man.I pegged him at close to seventy, maybe a little older.He was short and round, his hair thinned out to a few shiny strands that I suspected had been Brylcreemed into place.His glasses had thick black frames, and he wore a gold choker and—well, I wasn’t sure what it was called, but the overall effect was like someone had tried to shove Danny DeVito into a sleeveless knit dress.
“It’s a tabard,” the older man said as though reading my mind.
And that’s when I realized: this was Fox’s dad.
The physical similarities were there, in the shape of their faces, in their expressions.But it was the way they carried themselves too.And the clothing.(Fox’s choice of outfit tonight included broccoli-green boots shaped like leaves at the top, and what I could only think of as a Revolutionary War coat: red and white and frocked and with so many buttons.)
The older man reached for my hand and said, “Terrence Foxworthy.”
“Dash Dane.”
“It’s a pleasure to have you.An honor.What an absolute delight!”
