Page 85 of Dare You to See Me
I take the container from her hands and place it into our basket. Dahlia pumps her fist and holds on to the edge of the cart as we continue on.
“Hi Dahlia.” A small voice from behind us grabs our attention.
Looking over my shoulder I see a boy holding the hand of a man I thought had finally realized I have no desire to pursue anything with him.Not even a friendship.
“Hey Mason.” Dahlia’s voice doesn’t hide even one ounce of her disappointment.
I guess she feels the same way about him as I do his dad.
“Hello Wesley.” I greet him cordially but don’t move from the spot where we stand.
“What a surprise seeing you here? How have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.” Wesley holds a handbasket in one hand and Mason’s hand in the other. His smile irks me and I shiver when chills roll down my spine.
“Good. Busy. Work is a little crazy with the holidays and people trying to fit in their year end items.”
I keep it short and don’t bother to ask how he is in return. I have no time for pleasantries today. Malik is joining us for dinner before we leave to see my parents for Thanksgiving. I had planned to invite him to join us, but I guess Dagen’s parents had already invited all of the brothers to their ranch. He told me we should join them, but I really want to spend some time with my mom and dad.
I’m a little bummed out that I won’t see him for a week, but we each still need our solo time with friends and family. I could also use a little bit of time to figure out my true feelings for Malik. It feels a lot like love, but for some reason I feel guilt over it. I could really use some time to sort through it all.
“Looks like you’re planning a big dinner.” Wesley looks at my cart that is full of steaks and vegetables, bread, drinks and now little circles of diabetes.
“Malik is coming over,” Dahlia shouts with a smile, then immediately slaps her hand over her mouth, remembering that we asked her to not tell people about her mom dating her teacher.
Wesley’s face goes from friendly and happy to irritated with a clenched jaw.
“Who’s Malik?” Mason asks Dahlia, but she doesn’t get a chance to answer.
“That’s Mr. Dare’s name. Ms. Soleil is his girlfriend. Isn’t that weird?” He looks to my daughter who is now hiding behind me. “Your mom dating your teacher? I don’t think I could ever do that to my child.”
I kick politeness out of the store and stomp my way to stand right in front of him. With my finger in his chest and fury in my voice, I finally tell him the things I’ve wanted to say for weeks.
“Do notevertalk to my daughter like that. You keep your goddamn mouth shut and stuff your opinions up your ass. My relationship is no concern of yours.Iam no concern of yours. Remember that because I won’t be having this, or any other, conversation with you again.”
I can feel the way my chest heaves as I spit words at him like hot pokers. Straightening my shoulders, I take a step back then turn to where Dahlia stands still gripped tight to the shopping cart. I soften my face, put on a smile, and act like I don’t want to stomp that weasel in the nuts.
“Are you ready, my little dove? Malik will be over soon and we want to make sure everything is perfect for him.” I throw Wesley a look over my shoulder and see him still fuming in the spot I left him.
With a final glare thrown his way, I leave him and the memory of his smug face behind.
I stand at the stove in my parent’s house, watching the filling for my pecan pie come to a boil, waiting for the perfect time to add the bourbon. The wood spoon makes swirls in the thickening liquid and the smell wafts through the kitchen.
“So you really like this new man?”Mom asks from beside me where she kneads dough for the rolls.
With tomorrow being Thanksgiving, we’re doing our usual night before prep. I’m pie and cranberry sauce duty, while mom makes the rolls and preps the vegetables. Dahlia and George are busy making sure the couch cushions are warmed up for us when we finally sit down.
“I do. It’s just…” I turn off the heat and take the pot off the burner, setting it down to cool. “I’m nervous.”
“What are you nervous about?”Mom pushes and pulls the dough, working it to perfection.
“What isn’t there to be nervous about? Is it too soon to be dating someone? Is this good for Dahlia? What will happen if it ends? Am I really falling for him, or is this the loneliness reaching out for anyone to grab onto? I can keep going because the list is endless.”
Mom’s hands stop and she finally turns to look at me. “Darling, you are overthinking all of it.”
“Am I, though?”
“Yes. I can tell you’re thinking of all the ways that it will end badly instead of how wonderful it can become.”
I pick up the egg that sits on the counter and let it rock back and forth in my hand. “Can you blame me? Look how my first marriage ended. You can’t fault me for being a little cautious and skeptical.”
