Page 9 of Starting Our Chance

5 Loretta

Maggie’s was stilljust as busy as ever, as evidenced by the restaurant’s parking lot being full. I pushed through the frosted glass doors, and was immediately hit with the smell of comfort that made my mouth water. Too bad I’m not staying for dinner. I hadn’t had a brisket burger in ages. Looking around, I saw that my reason for being here was already sitting in a window booth.

My second week at work had been just as productive as the first, my days filled with a pleasant routine as summer faded into autumn. However, when I’d gotten home in the evenings, instead of getting to enjoy some much needed winding down time on the porch with my supper, I had needed to deal with several messages on my mama’s answering machine—sometimes between five to eight messages a day! And all of them from Dylan.

This stops tonight. I rolled my shoulders and advanced toward him. When he saw me, he shuffled out of the booth and courteously helped me into my seat. I pursed my lips to keep back a wry comment.

Lingering, Dylan beamed down at me and grabbed my hand. “I’m so glad you are here,” he said, rubbing a finger over the back of my knuckles.

I delicately pulled away from him and couldn’t help feeling a little flattered at how attentive he was being. It had been ages since I had been with a real man—the northern ones just weren’t bred the same. I clasped my fingers together in my lap and told the waitress that I wouldn’t be staying, but if she felt like bringing me a water, I would be much obliged.

“Nonsense,” Dylan objected, plopping down into his own seat—thankfully across from me. “She’ll have a rum and coke. I’ll have another round, too, and we’ll start with fried green tomatoes.”

I opened my lips to protest but the waitress had gone. It was time to lay things straight. Here goes nothing. “Thank you, Dylan, for inviting me out tonight—”

“Don’t mention it!” Dylan bounced a little in his seat. “I’m just glad you didn’t listen to that mama of yours. She called me up and told me not to bother you. So, I kept calling just to spite her. Plus, I was itching to get at you again.”

His brazen words sent a chill down my spine—not the good kind. “Well, you see, the reason I came here tonight . . ..” I took a deep breath, but was interrupted again before I could finish.

“Oh, say, I don’t have your number. You should give that to me.”

I didn’t tell him that his number was blocked. Instead, I kept my voice firm and my gaze locked on his. “Dylan.” It did no good; he wouldn’t focus.

“I need to run up and say hello to the bartender,” he continued. “It’s Buck Davis. You remember Buck, right?” He shifted to the left and looked longingly at the bar.

“Dylan!” He swiveled back to me, and I reached out a hand to hold him still and hear me out.

Big mistake.

Dylan gripped my fingers like a vice and bent down to place a lingering kiss upon the back of my hand. I tried to pull away; it was futile. Pushing past the revulsion building in the back of my throat, I persisted with all honesty, “I’m not going out with you, Dylan.”

“You say that now, but hear me out, Suga.”

I visibly cringed at the name. Dylan didn’t notice. “This is our chance. I know I screwed up in high school, pushing you. But I’ve changed, Suga. I have!”

The protests died on my lips. For a moment, I considered what he was saying. Could it be as easy as that? After all, didn’t I know firsthand how much a person could change in a short space of time? Wasn’t I a completely different girl than the one who had left Waynesboro Parish a long time ago? Yet, thoughts of how I was different brought up the reasons for my change. My life is in flames. Do I want to add something caustic to the mix?

I looked into his soft brown eyes and wanted to believe Dylan had changed. But it was his actions, not his words, that I needed to believe.

“You pushed me back then to do something I wasn’t comfortable doing.” I wrenched my fingers away, wanting to look down and see if bruises were already forming. “And when I stuck to my ‘no’, you cheated on me. Besides,” I paused and shook my head, feeling my anger about to bubble over. “You fought with me about my scholarship applications and my desire to go to college for an accounting degree up north. Never once did you contact me while I was gone.”

Just then the waitress brought the drinks and appetizers. When she asked if we were ready to order, I bit out, “No, I was just leaving this cheating bastard.” The woman’s eye flew wide open and I said firmly, “Yes, honey, listen to me good. If you want this piece of ass, you can have him. He’ll cheat on you when he doesn’t get what he wants, and if you’re a fool, you’ll keep going back to him.”

I knew it was harsh, but I needed to say it out loud. I needed a verbal reminder of who this old boyfriend of mine was.

As the waitress turned to leave, a boot suddenly collided with my shin. I sucked in a lung full of air, trying to hold back the cry of pain as I heard Dylan tell the waitress to come back with another round of drinks, and then we’d be ready to order.

I went to rise; clearly my points weren’t being heard, and I was done with this bull. “Dylan, I am not staying to eat with you. You fucking kicked me, you ass! You’re just as mean as you ever were. Furthermore, you are still disrespectful to my mama, and clearly are eyeing up the waitress for when I turn you down—which is what I’m doing right now.”

Quicker than I’d thought he could move, Dylan skirted around the booth and slid onto my bench, effectively blocking me in. He grabbed at one of my sweaty palms and whispered in a firm voice, “We are sitting here and having a pleasant dinner. And you are going to keep your trap shut. That was the old me. You don’t know the new me, but if you thought I was harsh before, push me again and just see what I’ll do.”

This was suddenly more than I had bargained for. All I had wanted to do was tell him to his face that I wasn’t interested in going out with him. I figured that if we sat down, like adults, and talked about it then he’d quit calling me and leave me alone. Why I had been stupid enough to think he’d hear me in person when speaking over the phone hadn’t worked, I had no clue. And now, I was trapped.

Just then, I caught a familiar pair of jean clad thighs and a pair of black leather boots walk past. Knowing not to look up, I felt my cheeks turn crimson. I hadn’t been able to get ahold of Duke all week. My few text messages had gone unanswered. When Mama sent me next door with a plate of cookies, I’d had to leave them on the porch because he wasn’t home. And now—now he had seen me with Dylan and was probably assuming the worst. There is no way he’ll ever look at me without disgust or loathing now! It pissed me off that I had gotten myself in this mess.

I knew he hated Dylan’s guts. They were old football rivals and all that. I didn’t want Duke thinking I was the same girl that would go back to this piece of trash. However, I wasn’t sure where Duke and I stood. I could have sworn he was going to kiss me during our horseback ride. Oh, how I had wanted that. But now, his cold attitude had left me guessing at his feelings.

Sure, I had no clue how long I was in town for. If I could clear my name then I could skip town, because even though things down here didn’t seem as horrific as I had anticipated, I wasn’t completely convinced that this would all work out, and I needed to keep my options open. That knowledge put a damper on any designs I might dream up about Duke in the dark of the night. It didn’t, however, stop me from dreaming, and those dreams encouraged me to stay, to see what I had missed all those years away. However, this situation right here, might mean that I never got to straighten things out with him.

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