Page 43 of Just Friends

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Weasel opened the car door for Rebecca, relieved that she hadn’t asked more questions about where they were heading. It might be sneaky, but it would have taken a lot more convincing if he’d had to admit they were going to Dalton’s for dinner with his family. This still could backfire. He tossed her bag into the backseat of the SUV.

When the car turned the opposite direction on Main Street, he held his breath.

“Where are we going?” Rebecca asked.

“Dinner,” Weasel replied.

“Where?”

“Dalton’s.” His eyes glued to the road to avoid the stare.

Rebecca grumbled, grabbing her purse and rummaging through it.“A little heads up woulda been nice. I’m gonna kill you,” she muttered and removed a round container and swiped makeup on her face.

“Don’t worry with that, you’re beautiful.”

“No flattery,” Rebecca barked. “Why didn’t you tell me that we were going to Dalton’s?”

“Would you have agreed?” To her silence, he continued. “I knew you were alone after visiting Stanley, and there’s always a ton of food that Cindy cooks.”

“This feels too much like manipulation. Do you understand?”

Weasel grimaced and swore. “Sorry about that…. Should I take you home?”

“Do they know I’m coming?”

“Yeah.”

“No. I’ll go, but only because I want your shower later.”

Weasel breathed a sigh of satisfaction. “Is that all you want later?” He flashed a grin and laughed when she slapped his shoulder.

“Who will be there?”

“Dalton, his wife is Cindy. Their kids are Peyton and Logan. Logan is six and Peyton is four. Then there’s my great-aunt Edna.”

“They named their son after your brother.”

“Yeah. And don’t worry, they’re all really nice…except for Edna, who’s ancient and grumpy.”

“Ancient?”

“Yep. She’ll turn 99 in January. You’d think she’d be happy to be still alive and healthy, but it seems just to piss her off. Although, to be fair, she was mean long before. Once, she took a baseball bat to my dad when she found him in a bar and he wouldn’t stop drinking and come home.”

Rebecca gasped.

“Not that we wanted him home. It was better if he stayed at the bar and slept it off in the gutter or the jail. But she believed she was doing the right thing.”

“Did he ever get clean?”

“No. Drank himself to death when I was sixteen.” Funny how it came out with no more emotion than talking about a stranger. It had been a relief to no longer have to avoid the old man. “I moved in with Dalton and Cindy after.”

“How much older is Dalton?”

“Ten years. I never remember a time when he wasn’t taking care of us.” Weasel owed Dalton his life, he was sure. Rebecca rubbed a palm on his thigh; electricity shot through him. It amazed him how her touch still turned him on. Picking up her hand, he kissed each finger.

Weasel parked the car in behind Dalton’s truck. The frost-tipped grass in the front yard matched the white aluminum siding of the small house. Cindy had placed a Christmas wreath on the door; the red and green stood out among the sea of white. He reached over and slid his hand into the hair at the nape of Rebecca’s neck guiding her in for a kiss. A transportation van pulled up on the street and stopped at the end of the drive. “There’s Edna,” he said.

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