Page 26 of Yours To Keep
My father lets out a sharp whistle, jerking his head for me to follow him outside. Before I do, I take a mental picture of Magnolia standing in front of the stove, smiling and laughing with my mother. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful sight.
Once the back door closes, my dad laughs under his breath, shaking his head as I follow him across the yard to his shop.
“What? What’s so funny?” I ask, knowing that mischievous look in his eyes always holds a deeper meaning.
“She’s a pretty one, that girl of yours,” he says, and I nod.
“That she is. We’re just…friends,” I say, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. I don’t want to be her fucking friend.
“The way you look at that lass? There’s nothing friendly about it, my boy,” dad says, and I can’t help but nod. He tinkers around, moving tools from one side of the shed to the other before sitting on a stool and facing me. My dad has always seen through any emotion I try to hide, and I know it’s no different now. “Does she know you care for her?”
“Yeah, she knows. I think she knows. I just don’t think she trusts the feeling, ya know? I’m a little out of my element when it comes to an actual relationship, and I think she knows that, too.” I wish I had a better reputation, but I never knew my path would cross Magnolia’s. I’m not sorry for the person I was before her. It made me who I am.
“The way she looks at you. I’ve seen that look before, son. Hell, I still see it on your mother’s face when she looks at me, despite all the hell I’ve given her over the years. That girl is in love with you, son.” His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, but I just shake my head.
“I don’t know if I’d go that far, Da. I can’t imagine a woman stupid enough to fall for me,” I joke, but he scowls.
“Don’t. Don’t you sell yourself short, son. You’re a good man, a strong man with a kind heart. I know that, and from the looks of that girl, so does she.” His words marinate in my mind.
Is Magnolia really falling for me? Is that something I want? Who am I kidding? Of course it is. I want to be the first and the last man she ever falls for. But that’s a lot of responsibility that I don’t know if I’m ready for. For now, I can offer her my help, my protection, and whatever small pieces of me I’m willing to share. Maybe someday that will change, but I make no promises.
“Don’t wait too long, okay? The good ones are always worth the risk, Dalton.” Soaking up my father’s wisdom has been aconstant in my life, and this time isn’t any different. But instead of sharing my thoughts with him, I just nod.
“Let’s go see how far these ladies have gotten with dinner.” He stands, walking across the backyard and up the porch steps. My nieces bound across the yard, nearly knocking us both over in their race to get inside. My sister and Nate sit on the swing by the water, her head resting against his shoulder as they watch the sunset.
For a moment, I imagine myself in their shoes. Soaking up moments like that with Magnolia would be pure bliss, but is it attainable? Is it something I even deserve? I know a woman like her is so far beyond what I deserve. But if I’m honest with myself, it’s what I want. Not just any woman, because no one holds a candle to the one I want. She doesn’t see herself that way, but I do. And so does everyone around us. Her beauty radiates from the tips of her auburn hair, from the corners of her smile, through every single thing she touches. The woman I want is a goddess among men, and I have no right to ask her to be mine. But when do I ever ask for what I want?
No, I take it.
eleven
Cookingwith Dalton’s mother has been the highlight of my week. Hell, probably my entire year. She may not be my mother, but I’ve always been desperate for the kind of affection she’s shown me, and she barely knows me.
I promise myself that if I ever have children, I will be a mother like Dalton’s. The kind of woman who loves her children above all else, and treats the people they love as her own. I’ve never felt as welcome as I do tonight, sitting at this dining table, listening to Dalton’s family rag on him for all the dumb shit he did when he was younger. After dinner was finished, his mom brought out a homemade birthday cake and we all sang happy birthday. My heart sank a little at the realization that I have never before experienced someone singing me happy birthday. How pathetic is that?
“You remember when he brought home that turtle, mom? And he tried to hide it under the bed?” Saoirse says, laughing so hard she has tears rolling down her face. Dalton looks completely unashamed, which makes it so much better.
“Oh, how could I forget? His room smelled like a dead animal, and he was sneaking vegetables from my cutting board for over a week!” His mother rolls her eyes. I can only imagine the trials she was put through in raising two spirited kids.
“Did you at least let him keep the turtle?” I ask, my cheeks aching from smiling so much tonight.
“No, she didn’t. Can you believe that?! All the work I did to hide Raphael, and I didn’t even get to keep him,” Dalton says, grabbing my hand where it’s resting on the table and stroking the back with his thumb. I don’t even think he realizes he’s doing it. He keeps talking casually with his family, laughing and joking about all of his crazy antics as a kid. I’m so focused on his hand on mine, I don’t see anything else.
“I’m sorry, Raphael?” I ask, amused by his choice of name.
“Yes, angel. Raphael. He was the red Ninja Turtle, my favorite.” Dalton replies, and I burst out laughing. My laughter brings a beaming smile to his face and I wish I could stop time just to see that sight forever.
“Do you two have any other plans tonight?” His mother asks, snapping me out of my daze. She gives me a knowing smile and I blush, knowing I’ve been caught daydreaming about her son.
“Well, it’s up to this one, I suppose. The guys asked if we were gonna go to Pop’s tonight. Even on my night off, I can’t escape that place,” he says with a laugh.
“It’s your birthday. I’m just along for the ride,” I say with a shrug. I’d follow this man into the fire if he only asked.
“I guess we’re headed to Pop’s then,” he replies, firing off a text to our friends and standing. “Thank you so much for dinner, mom. And the cake. I love you.”
He pulls her in for a tight hug and kisses her head. She squeezes him back just as tightly, and I envy their connection. I don’t remember a single time when my mother has actually hugged me. Fiona moves on to me, giving me a warm smilebefore hugging me just as tightly. I let it linger as long as she’ll allow, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes. I never thought I was so starved for maternal affection until this moment.
“It was so lovely to meet you, dear. You’re welcome here, anytime,” she tells me, and I nearly break. When I finally release her, a watery smile spread across my face, she gives me a wink.
