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“There you go,” she said before giving me a quick squeeze.
“What?” I said, shaking my head and heading up to my room. I got to the top of the stairs before I caught her cryptic teaching.
She was telling me I was selfish to think he’d suffered less than I had. Dean’s reaction to our break up was his to have and that everyone loved and lost differently. I wasn’t the only one who might’ve had a hard time moving on. But mostly she was trying to tell me that I was worthy of that type of love and not the only one capable of it. And maybe I was being a little selfish to think otherwise.
Touché, madre!
I wrapped myself up in the comforts of home, staring into the darkness and doing what I’d spent hours of my life doing in this very spot: thinking of Dean Martin. I woke up hours later covered in sweat, a whimper still on my lips as I came out of another bad dream. A dream I was all too familiar with. I took a long hot bath to ease the ache that had built in my arms from clinging to my sheets. I sat in the tub replaying the night Dean had made me the promise he failed to keep.
“I’ll come back for you, Dallas.”
Dallas
Now
I woke the next morning, surprisingly well rested despite my bad dream, and scurried to the kitchen to grab a quick cup of coffee before I left for my shift. My mother stood waiting for me in the kitchen, and I jumped in surprise when she met me with a waiting smile. “Mom, it’s six in the morning!” I looked to see my favorite breakfast of eggs benedict and fresh orange juice waiting for me. “Oh, this is too much, Mom. You didn’t have to.” Grabbing my fork, I dug in as she leaned over the counter, planting a quick kiss on my cheek.
“It goes with aging. I wake up at the crack of dawn, and I hate it,” she mused, watching me inhale my plate. “Besides, little woman, you are getting too thin.”
“I’m on it,” I said confidently. “I’ve been letting too much get in the way of my health. I’ve already decided to do better. I’ll take the food but skip the lecture, okay?” I asked, hopeful.
My mother narrowed her eyes. “Fine, smart ass, I was just doing my job.”
“I know, and you’re really good at it,” I complemented around a mouthful of runny eggs and Canadian bacon.
“Just remember, old lady or not, I can still kick your ass,” she said forcefully as I laughed loudly around a swallow of deliciousness.
“Eggs benedict,” my father said sleepily. “Morning, angel, this is a nice surprise.”
“Hi, Daddy,” I piped before leaning into a bear hug.
“What are you doing here?” he asked as my mother ushered him to sit next to me.
“I had a rough day yesterday and just wanted to be home.”
“Oh.” He stopped his juice glass midway to his mouth, his concern clear.
“I’m fine. Mom and I talked it out, really,” I assured him as I finished my plate.
“Well, if you want another ear,” he offered as I looked at my mother’s reddening face.
“Seth Whitaker,” she snapped, “I am more than capable of talking to her without your assistance.”
“I have no doubts, baby,” he said sweetly.
“You’re in for a long day, baby,” my mother retorted. They both chuckled and looked at me expectantly.
“I’m fine, okay? Crisis averted.” Rinsing off my plate and sticking it in the dishwasher, I addressed them both. “I’m chalking this up to good old fashioned curiosity. I have a job I love and everything else is just a distraction. It’s time to get back to life as I know it and stop worrying about what ifs. That time is over. I just want to resume my life as it was.”
My mother harrumphed, clearly unhappy with my decision, and I replied, “It’s my decision to make.”
“What am I missing?” my father asked, looking between us.
“Dean is back and wants another shot with Dallas. She’s still madly in love with him and is refusing to give him a chance,” my mother boldly declared, summing up all that was unsaid between us last night.
“Mom,” I protested.
“Dean is back,” he said animatedly. “Oh, man, I’d love to see him.”
