Page 23 of Forgive Me Father: For I Have Sinned

My laughter filled the area around us. “No sorry. I just lost a bet is all.”I’ve got to get a filter.

“Huh? I’m lost. I guess I don’t understand what a dressing room has to do with going to dinner with me,” he said, sad and confused.

“Yes Butch, I’ll go to dinner with you and please ignore the dressing room comment. Just know that I don’t have one,” I told him, hoping he’d leave it at that, but of course, he didn’t.

“Okay, you need to explain the dressing room comment.” He guided me over to a nearby table, pulling a chair out for me to sit in. “I’ll be right back.” I watched as he walked over to the bar to get a drink and brought a glass of water back with him for me.

He sat next to me, took a drink of his beer then said. “Spill it.”

“Ugh. The last time you were here my boss, the blonde behind the bar standing next to his beefy boyfriend told me you were watching me dance. I basically told him you reeked of straight genes and said wanna bet and so we did. If he won, I had to wash his car, if I won, I got a new dressing room.”

He stared at me blankly, and I didn’t know if I’d gone too far or pissed him off, but I guess it was better to get that out of the way before it went any further. He took his time, sipping from his beer before replying. “What kind of soap does he use on his car and does that wager include waxing it?”

Holy shit he knows Dorothy!

“So, does Tuesday night work for you?” he asked, snapping me back.

“Oh, yes. I’m off that night.”

“Yes, I think the whole town knows your work schedule.” He pulled out his phone. “Can I get your number so you can text me where to pick you up.”

I rattled off my number, “but I live above the bar.”

“You do? Isn’t that where the owners live?”

“Yes, those two behind the bar. I rent a room from them. It’s part of the long story of my short life and the reason why they’ve all become so protective of me.” I hoped that wasn’t going to be a problem for him, but I really didn’t know why it would be.

“Well Jamie,” he stood. “I look forward to our date and learning more about the man who captivated me with his ethereal dance moves.” He kissed the back of my hand before waving across the room at Daniel and Marcus and headed out the door.

I was somewhat thankful Sierra wasn’t working, or she’d be all over me for the details. When I walked up to the bar, I was greeted with Daniel’s smug face. “I want the wheels hand detailed, make sure to get all the bugs out of the front grill, and, oh, did I mention I wanted the inside vacuumed as well?”

“All I hear is la, la, la, la fuck you,” I sang as I walked away, taking the stage and dancing away what was probably the best night of my life. Ecstatic that my sister was not only okay, but back in my life, and that I was going on my first date. Here I was almost twenty-one, and I’d never been out on a real date. I had a feeling this guy was well worth a free car wash.

Much to my chagrin, it didn’t rain on Monday. I was forced to pay up and wash Daniel’s car which he enjoyed far more than he should’ve. Perched in his lawn chair nearby, lemonade in hand, dark sunglasses shielding his blue eyes from the blinding sun, while slathering his fair skin in sunscreen. “You missed a spot.”

“No, I didn’t,” I said, turning the hose on him and soaking his prissy ass. Before long we were both soaked to the bone, along with the car. So instead of using the towels to dry it off with, we were forced to use them on ourselves before going inside. It was well worth it, even if I had to come back out later and wash his car for real.

Butch and I texted off and on over the days before our date. I met him downstairs inside the bar Tuesday night where he picked me up. We were headed to The Fisherman’s Restaurant down on Alaskan Way on the waterfront. I’d spent two hours getting ready, making sure my outfit was just right. I’d chosen a pair of white form-fitting jeans, a dark blue silk shirt, and white three-inch heeled boots. When I was finally satisfied with my hair and makeup, I didn’t want the foundation to be too heavy and turn my skin orange like an Oompa Loompa, I headed downstairs to wait for him.

“Damn James,” Sierra whistled, choosing to use my given name as I walked through the open area of the bar. “You look hot, hot, hot!”

“Thanks, chica,” I said, applying a little more lip-gloss before sliding the tube into my pants pocket. Butch walked in moments later and right on time.

“Wow,” he said as he walked up to me, “you look fantastic.”

“Why thank you, sir, shall we?”

The drive to the restaurant was brief, had I not been wearing heels we probably could’ve walked the short distance. He parked then came around to my side of the truck, opening the door for me. “Such a gentleman,” I teased.

“My momma didn’t raise a Neanderthal. If she found out I didn’t treat you with respect she’d box my ears,” he said without a doubt. The image of this tiny, yet fierce woman raising her hand to this bulky giant had me laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m just picturing this tiny woman chasing you around with a rolling pin in hand,” I giggled.

“Can’t deny that didn’t happen a time or two,” he told me, holding the restaurant door open for me to walk in.

“Welcome to Fisherman’s gentlemen, do you have a reservation?” the hostess greeted us.

“Yes, two for Johnson,” Butch told her.

---