Page 16 of Until Next Time
“She dropped a secret in the box last week.” She just winks at me.
I pull my lips together and just head towards the board without saying a word.
I stand there, scanning the bulletin board looking for one of Birdie’s secrets.
That’s when I see it. It’s a postcard with an oil painting of the Grand Canyon on the front. I flip it over to see her secret scrawled in black ink. Always black ink.
I’ve turned into everything I was always running from. A walking cliche. An unemployed artist with no real talent. -Until Next Time
I take the postcard and slide it into the back pocket of my jeans and return the push pin to the board.
It feels like I’ve been punched in the gut and I’m having a hard time dealing with the reaction I’m having to the way she feels about herself. In that moment, it’s like my entire life’s purpose has shifted into only wanting to shield and protect herfrom the way she feels about herself and any person who makes her feel less than what she is.
I head straight for the door and giving Mira a wave. My stride is fast and determined as I hear her holler, “I’ve got your copy of Hook and Barrell over here at the register.” Without even looking back, “I’ve already got one at home. Thanks, Mira!”
I’m going to fix this.
15
Birdie
My mom gave me a heads up about our breakfast guests this morning to avoid a repeat of last time. But now I’m stressed because I don’t want it to look like I’m trying to look good or something. I need to figure out how to achieve the perfect combination of, “I woke up like this,” but not. I opt for a pair of black yoga pants because they are cozy, casual and make my ass look really good, which is for the off-chance I happen to drop something in front of Dawsen and need to do the bend and snap or something,obviously.I’m going to change my middle name toPatheticat this point. It suits me better thanLouise,I suppose.
I pull on my favorite hot pink sports bra and then a crew neck sweatshirt that says “weirdo” across the front. It’s in this very moment that I realize I have way too many clothing items with sayings on them.
I comb through my hair, but then give it a little shake so it’s not noticeably brushed. I comb through my eyebrows and put on a slick of chap-stick and throw some dainty gold hoops in my ears. I could have easily woke up like this, I’m convinced as I look in the mirror.
I heard the front door open and shut a few minutes ago. I assume Dawsen is already here. So I do a quick spritz of my vanilla body spray in the air and walk through it, so it’s not as strong. It’s time for some coffee, and as I make my way downstairs, I try to not think about the dreams I’ve been having all week that involve Dawsen taking all my clothes off in the cab of his truck.
I can hear the faint chatter of everyone in the dining room coming down the hall. I try to pad in quietly, hoping to not make my entrance super obvious. I turn the corner and mostly everyone has sat down and started dishing up from the gigantic breakfast spread mom has laid out across the table. I smell bacon and coffee, and it transports me to my happy place. The only empty chair happens to be right next to Dawsen, to which I’m relieved, I don’t have to stare at my plate the entire breakfast just trying to avoid his beautiful face.
“Good morning, family!” I say in a sing song way, and giving a tight lipped smile. “Good Morning, Bird!” My mom and dad say in almost unison. “Hey Tweety!” River says in a teasing tone. I blow him a kiss with my middle finger and a sarcastic smile which gets a laugh from Mr. Jones. “Well, you are just so pretty I think I just went deaf in my left eye.” Crawford says, which puts the whole table into a fit of laughter. “What does that even mean?” Dawsen asks as if he’s almost irritated, as he reaches across me to grab a piece of bacon off the platter.
“It’s an expression, means she’s so pretty, I can’t think straight. One day you’ll learn how to talk to the ladies, son.”Crawford teases, and I can hear Dawsen just grunt under his breath.
My head starts to get all hot just thinking about Dawsen talking to other girls. I mean, it’s definitely never been a secret, the effect that Dawsen Jones has on women. I may be a lot of things, but naive isn’t one of them. Something else that I am definitely not, ishis type.I’d have to be blonde with Pilates abs. And right about now, inhaling his spicy and sweet scent, thinking about the way his light stubble on his face would feel brushing across mine—well, I’m highly considering making an appointment at the salon and taking up Pilates just as soon as this breakfast is over.
Everyone has made good work of their plates, and there’s barely anything left. Just a few stray pieces of bacon that River grabs before I notice. I’ve mostly just kept quiet, listening to everyone’s conversations. Discussions about homeowner’s associations, the new barber in town, and then they dove into a black hole of conspiracy theories. I was trying hard to focus, but also couldn’t help but notice Dawsen’s knee bumping into mine. The first time, he leaned into me slightly and in a very hushed tone said, “my bad.”
I just looked over and gave him a soft smile. But then he bumped my knee again and said nothing, so I responded in the most obvious way—I bumped his knee back. A few seconds went by and he bumped my knee, harder this time. I couldn’t help but laugh under my breath. One knee bump leads to the next and I’m pretty sure we have been flirting through knee contact the entirety of this breakfast.
I kept sneaking glances between bumps and saw a smile creep over his face every so often, and I couldn’t help but blush like a stupid teenage girl. He at least managed to participate in the conversations. My brain was mush at the thought of Dawsen giving me attention. I need to be checked into an asylum for girlswho have trauma for unrequited crushes… or maybe just some old fashioned therapy. Because this cannot be healthy.
The coffee has been drank and the plates have been scraped, everyone is slowly starting to excuse themselves when I feel Dawsen kick my foot as he goes to stand up. He slides out his chair and stands, looking down at me with the most adorable grin.
“My bad…again.” His gaze on me lasts a beat longer and then he makes his way into the kitchen. My legs feel like they’re filled with lead, and I’ve forgotten how to walk. I hear Dawsen in the kitchen saying his goodbyes to everyone. I finally pull my shit together. I’m pushing my chair back in as Dawsen makes his way back into the dining room. He walks right up to me, leans on the back of his chair in a very casual way, but the way his forearm is resting, I’m distracted by the thick veins that travel upward under his tanned skin.
“So uhh, I was meaning to ask you—I’m not really sure how long you’re going to be in town, or if you’re even available for this kind of job, but I was wondering if I’d be able to hire you. I’ve been wanting to have a mural painted at the winery. I’ve got that huge blank wall right when you walk through the front door, and I thought it would be cool to bring in an artist to give it some new life. You’ve always been super talented at that kind of thing, so I wanted to see if you’d be available for something like that.” Suddenly my ears are hot. At the job opportunity he’s just presented and the way that he’s looking at me right now.
“That sounds super awesome, Daws… But I’ve never painted something that size. I’m not sure I’m your best option for that kind of thing.” I manage to stammer out. “But, I mean, I can’t tell you how nice it is that you thought of me, and Lord knows I could use the job.” I add with a laugh. He smirks at me and a breathy chuckle escapes him.
“Well listen, you’re pretty much the only one I’m interested in hiring. I want you to do it. I’ve always loved your art. Specifically those weird animal hybrids you used to do in high school. The job is yours, but I’ll give you some time to think it through. If it’s not something you’re interested in, I understand. But don’t turn it down because you think I can find someone better.”
I’m just staring up at him while I chew on my lip, trying to work through all of this.
“You can definitely find someone more qualified, Dawsen.” His face turns more serious now, straightening his body.
“I don’t want someone more qualified, I want you.” He offers me a tight lipped smile and as he turns to leave, he starts grabbing his jacket off the hook by the door when he says, “Monday. Come on by and we can talk details.”
