twenty-eight
Saturday morning doesn’t start off with the same sense of excitement as it did the day before, my heart weighed down by what happened with my mom last night. Hoping that following my usual routine will help some, I chug orange juice, brew coffee, sit myself on the back porch, search for recipes, and look for deer. No Disney forest creatures and no inspiring recipes show up.
My iPad gets chucked to the side. Maybe staying in this houseisa damn stupid idea. It’s not as though I have a job, and I can’t live off of my father’s money forever, and I don’t want to. Despite Paul’s optimism, I can’t believe that my mother would hand over this house when she probably has no confidence in me, no belief in me. And she shouldn’t, if I’m honest. I don’t.
The creaking stairs tell me that Danny is on his way down.
“I almost don’t want to fix this railing. I sorta like seeing that kicked-down, broken banister.” He sits beside me. “Maybe when we redo it, we’ll leave one missing in honor.”
Despite my mood, I can’t help but smile. “I don’t hate that idea.”
It’s a bit before he speaks again. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Really bad call with my mom last night.”
He keeps me company while I sit and throw rocks in the creek.
“Do you want to stay home today?” he asks. “I don’t have to go to Wakefest. We could float and watch polar bears and drink wine.”
“No. We’re both going. Although your proposition sounds damn fun, I want you to keep those beautiful face-painting appointments you have. And sitting around here isn’t going to change anything.”
He steals a sip of my coffee. “How about I make breakfast today?”
“If it’s a microwaved breakfast burrito, I’ll pass,” I joke.
“Hey! I might have learned a thing or two from you. Pretty sure I can at least give you scrambled eggs and toast. It’s not much in comparison to what you do though.”
“I love your offer, but you know what? I’d love to cook us omelets again.”
“Back to basics?”
“Back to basics,” I agree. “It’ll make me happy.”
Despite a full stomach and Danny’s love, my mood is still low when I leave, and it’s not easy to show up at Mary Ann’s booth, but I manage to smile my way through. She knows something is terribly wrong, but she also knows not to ask about it in front of the never-ending crowd. After selling vegetables and the like for hours with her, it’s almost a relief to change into my bathing suit for my dunk-tank time.
Before I take off, she touches my arm and forces me to look at her. “I know you’ve got Danny, but I’m here too. If and when you want to talk.”
I nod.
“Do you want to skip this stupid dunk tank? It’s no problem if you do.”
“And lose all those donations? Never. But thank you.”
It’s easy to fake a smile for mere seconds when strangers pitch at a target for charity, and I do smile and laugh for real when I’m dunked and earning money. This is the distraction that I didn’t know I needed.
I’m wiping myself dry and wrapping myself up in a robe when Danny finds me.
“Can I give you a ride home?”
“You’d better. I’ve been dunked so many times that I feel a little drunk.”
“Dunk drunk?” he suggests, making me smile a bit again.
Neither of us says anything on the ride home. His hand holds mine tightly, and I look out the window while Shallots sits on my lap. The dog repeatedly pushes his head under my hand; the begging for pats is endearing, and I don’t deny his request. There’s nothing like a bit of animal comfort when you need it the most.
Danny backs his truck into my yard and parks. “Shally, go inside, bud.” He helps his pup onto the ground and watches as he barrels through the unlocked door. “And now, to get you out.” He walks to the passenger side, gives me his hand, and makes a fun show of circling me to sit on the cargo bed of his truck. “Beer?” he asks as he lifts me up and then sits beside me.
“I thought you didn’t drive around with booze anymore.”
