She threw her arms around me. “Dacey, I was so scared. I didn’t know if you’d come back. I thought I was going to have to go and live with Opal and put you in a home! I couldn’t stand it if I lost you too.”
“I know, I’m sorry. You don’t know how sorry I will be for those four days of hell we were both in.” I squeezed her tight.
The door banged open behind me, displaying a pissed-off Tina.
“I know what you did, ho,” she directed at me.
Aria recovered quickly from our sisterly moment and giggled into my shoulder.
I spun around, letting Aria go, to face Tina fully. “What are you talking about?” I asked innocently.
“You Ex-Laxed me, you bitch.”
“I am my aunt’s niece.” I laughed.
“This is for Officer Justin, isn’t it?” she asked, catching on.
I gave her a knowing look, then shrugged.
“Oh, come on. I was trying to help you out! He’s into you, and he’s...
es guapo
—hot, damn!”
“If I wanted to date, I wouldn’t need your help, and I’m so far off the dating market right now...just let it go.” I fixed her with a look that I reserved for when I was truly serious, my “I’m not fucking around” look, and she knew to drop it. “You only had one square. You’ll be fine by morning. Trust me, we are pros,” I said, eyeing Aria with a grin.
“Are you ever going to let me live that down?” she asked, eyes wide. “That was, like, ages ago.”
It felt like it.
“Yeah, a whole few weeks ago,” I said, laughing. It felt good to laugh. It felt like it had been so long since I had laughed.
We talked a few more hours, and every time Tina shot up to go to the bathroom, I laughed a little more. I told Aria the plan for tomorrow, and then I got up to head off to bed. Tina made herself comfy on the bed that was once mine and bid me good-night grudgingly. Aria had given me my keys, and before heading to my room, I went to my car and got my book bag out, then I finished up a few assignments from last week. It was a wonder I wasn’t failing this semester, but I think I was riding the sympathy wave, except for Professor Harris’s class; his only acknowledgment was coming by to give his condolences, but then again, his class was the only class I actually liked and I found easy.
Pushing away the other work, I took out my final paper for creative writing and decided to add more pages to what I had written only a few short weeks ago. It seemed like such a long time ago. I had changed when I wrote the pages, but I think that I had changed from the person who wrote these pages too. So I wrote how I had changed yet again and would worry about how to tie them together later, then I went to sleep for the first time in four days not curled up a ball.
The next morning, we were at Opal’s before she was dressed. Tina had left when we did to drive back home, fully healed from being Ex-Laxed, and she’d all but forgotten she was supposed to be mad at me.
“You going to be okay, or do I need to drive over to the lump’s house and do a lil’ something something?” she had half-joked, half not. Who was I kidding? She wasn’t joking at all.
“No, don’t do a lil’ anything. I’ll be fine, maybe not today, but I’m working on it. I’m resilient,” I had said, giving her a hug and sending her off with the promise that if it got bad again, I would call her. No matter what.
Now A and I were watching as Opal was eating some kind of sandwich for breakfast, eyeing me with scrutiny.
“You wastin’ away, chile. Eat some o’ this.” She offered up her sandwich she was loudly chewing.
While it was true that I had lost weight, what Opal offered me didn’t make me want to eat even if I did have an appetite.
“Auntie, what is that?” Aria asked, making a face.
“It’s a sandwich,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, but what kind?” I asked.
Aunt Opal made a noise with her mouth as if to say, “well, if you must know,” then said, “It’s a macaroni and cheese sandwich,” and rolled her eyes.
“Macaroni?” I asked.
“And cheese?” Aria finished.
“Yes, with mustard,” stated Opal.
“Gross,” Aria said at the same time I let out an “ewww,” which earned us both the stink eye from Aunt Opal.
“You all don’t know good food!” she exclaimed, yanking back her offered-up sandwich, sending some of it flying onto the table with a wet smack.
“Auntie, it’s eight in the morning. Why are you eating macaroni and cheese for breakfast anyway?” asked Aria.
“Who says I can’t?”
“’Cause it’s not breakfast food.” Aria gave her the “duh” face.
“Who says what’s breakfast food or not? Just ’cause it’s not traditional don’t mean I can’t eat it for breakfast,” she spouted.
“Wow, insightful,” I said, impressed. Although I had found Opal’s choice of breakfast foods strange a long time ago, I had since come to terms with it. I probably should have warned Aria though, but the kid had to learn sometime.
“Still, wouldn’t you rather have eggs and pancakes—you know, breakfast foods?” She kept at it, bless her stubborn heart.
“Why, because you say so? And who are you, lil’ chile, hum?” she challenged, folding her arms over her chest now, daring Aria to dare her.
This was actually quite entertaining to watch.
“Um...I...that’s not what I mean...” Aria looked to me for help.
“All right, Auntie, stop torturing her and finish your sandwich so you can get dressed. Is Mr. Eugene on his way?” I patted her shoulder to lull her.
It seemed to work. She began eating again and swallowed before answering. “No, he’s already here.”
I let that sink in. Apparently, Aria came to the same conclusion at the same time as me because she giggled behind her hand as I closed my eyes and mouthed, “Gross.”
Opal finished her sandwich and washed it down with a cream soda, looking at Aria, almost daring her to say something about her drink choice. When Aria didn’t, she went upstairs to get dressed.
“Ohmyoldpeople how cute!” Aria gushed in a whisper.
I raised a brow at her word choice. “Ohmyoldpeople?”
“It’s cute,” she repeated.
I missed this version of my sister. It was nice to have her back. “It’s not cute,” I corrected her.
“It’s so cute.”
“Go back to being mercurial. I hate that you think this is cute,” I joked.
“You so don’t.” She bumped me with her shoulder.
She was right, I didn’t.
Mr. Eugene came downstairs dressed in slacks and a polo shirt.
“Good morning, girls. Judging by your time, I assume Opal gave you the ‘hate late people’ speech?”
I nodded and smiled, appreciating that he didn’t mention my absence like everyone else had.
“Well, now we are the ones waiting on her.” He gave a little wink. He went to the fridge, and I felt the need to apologize or say thank you, but when I opened my mouth to do so, he fixed me with a pinned look and asked if we had breakfast.
“If you mean if we had macaroni and cheese sandwich with mustard, then that would be a no.” Aria gagged.
“No, I mean a more traditional one, although it would have to be more of a continental breakfast, as we do have to get a move on things. How does bacon and eggs sound?”
I looked at him again to try and say something, and he again cut me off with talk of breakfast.
“Dacey? Can I get you bacon and eggs?” The look in his eyes seemed to say “apology accepted, drop it.” So I did.
* * *
We got to Orlando on time for Opal’s appointment, even with Mr. Eugene driving as slow as cold syrup, and checked her in.
Dr. Pfeiffer was a tall blonde with soft gray eyes. She gave us the rundown of how all the testing would go today, and she said that Opal would be there awhile. Aria decided to stay with her so that she wouldn’t be alone, leaving me to hang with Justin alone. Slick.
I texted Justin to let him know where I was and that I would wait for him in the lobby, then I went and filled Mr. Eugene in on what the doctor had said.
“So should I fire Trevor?” Mr. Eugene asked, totally taking me by surprise.
“Where did that come from?” I asked, shocked.
“I’m too much of a gentleman to repeat what Opal wanted to do to him for hurting you, and forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, but Opal is my family now, and therefore, you are my family—and I don’t like to see my family hurting. I am very protective of my family. I would have already had him terminated, but I figured I should talk to you about that first so as not to overstep my boundaries with you.”
Wow. Up until this point, I hadn’t really made up my mind about Mr. Eugene and Opal. I mean, sure he had given me the speech about not going anywhere and when you know, you know, but that was before parents died and boyfriends broke hearts. Now, anything was possible, and the word “love” was apparently something that was tossed around like a rag doll, but hearing Mr. Eugene talk, I knew it was different—
he
was different.
“The fact that you would do that for me means more than you will ever know. And as much as a huge, gigantic part of me wants you to do that, because I know it’s his true passion and it would hurt him deeply, I can’t,” I sighed, not wanting to admit to myself why it would bother me so much if I hurt him.
“Very well, but I have made it clear to him that we are no longer cordial.”
“I don’t hate him. I should. Everyone says I should, but I don’t.”
“I wonder why that is?” he mused, but he seemed to know and was just waiting for me to come to the conclusion on my own.
My guess was because I was stupid. Before I could voice this though, Justin came through the glass doors of the lobby in full uniform, gaining everyone’s attention, and stopped in front of us.
Mr. Eugene stood and offered his hand. “I’m Eugene Davis. You must be Officer Parks?”
“I am. Nice to meet you.” Justin took Mr. Eugene’s outstretched hand and shook it firmly.
They exchange pleasantries, then we out the door five minutes later and on our way.
“I see the appeal,” he said as we walked outside onto the sidewalk.
“Not you too,” I groaned.
“Uh-oh, you don’t like him?”
“Oh, I do, but it seems everyone he meets has this hero worship thing going on with him,” I teased.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he raised a brow at me.
“So where to?”
“Left, since you don’t have that much time. There is this sub place right around the corner, a mom-and-pop joint. We can walk there. They have the best subs in town.” He guided me by my elbow through the throng of people, although with him being in uniform, people where giving him a wide berth anyway.
“Aren’t you abusing company time or something?” I asked as he fell into stride beside me.
“No, I’m on lunch break. You think cops don’t get lunch?”
“Yeah, but you’re not really a regular cop. You’re highway patrol. Shouldn’t you be patrolling the highway?”
“I’m a cop. I just don’t deal with your basic homicides and murder.” He chuckled, showing his dimples.
“So what do you deal with?” I asked as he steered me across a crosswalk.
“Overseeing traffic violations, accidents—as you know—safety, and training. Basically if it has wheels, I deal.”
I laughed at his lame attempt at a joke.
“Yeah, that was pretty bad, huh?” he said, shaking his head.
“It sounds like something my friend Riley would say.” Thinking of Riley reminded me that I needed to call him and thank him for looking out for Aria for those days I didn’t.
We came to a stop in front of a dingy-looking yellow stucco building with a sign that read Mamma B’s.
I looked at Justin skeptically. “This is the best subs in town?” I twisted my lip up.
“Trust me. Don’t judge a book by its cover.”
“But the cover is what draws you in.”
“Yeah, but it’s what’s inside—oh, just come inside.” He grabbed my hand and gently pulled me inside the small eatery. There were about five tables scattered around the small space, and each had two chairs on either side. Justin picked the table in the middle, as we were the only people in the place.
“Hey, Officer P,” a big-neck guy behind the counter yelled.
“Hey, Jay,” Justin yelled back.
“The usual?” big-neck Jay yelled.
Justin looked at me deciding something, then, “Yeah, hold the jalapeños, and two Cokes.”
“Water for me, please.”
“Make it one Coke, one water, Jay,” he yelled back.
“So, no waitress?” I joked.
“Nah, this is a family business. That’s Jay. His daughter is usually the waitress, but she’s in school, and they are usually slow during the morning and afternoon so he manages with just him and his wife, who I’m sure is back there somewhere.”
As if on cue, a blonde came out with a bottle of water and a bottle of Coke and put them on the table in front of us. “Hey, Officer P, new girl?” She wagged her eyebrows at me suggestively.
“No, Sam, this is a friend. Dacey, this is Samantha. Samantha, this is Dacey.”
She offered me her hand. “Call me Sam. Dacey, huh. What is that, Italian?”
“Gaelic,” I said, shaking her hand.
“Oh, your parents old Irish, are they?”
“We don’t have a lot of time, Sam,” Justin cut in.
“Oh, yeah, sure—let me go check,” she said, not seeing me fidgeting with the bottle in my hand at the mention of my parents.
“Thanks, I guess I should get used to that. It’s not like I can wear a sign that says don’t ask me about my parents.”
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s going to take time,” he said gently.
“So what did you order, and why only one?” I asked, remembering he hadn’t asked me what I wanted or for a menu, for that matter.
“Oh, it’s called a Big Kahuna.” He flashed that dimple smile again.
“That sounds meaty.”
“Meaty?” He laughed.
What the hell was so funny about that? “You know, you laugh a lot.”
“You say a lot of funny shi—stuff,” he corrected.
“What? Are you not allowed to cuss in uniform?”
“No, we are. I was just trying to be respectful, showing my Southern upbringing and all.” He tipped an imaginary hat.