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She belongs to a different world than I do, and if I want to be part of this world too much, I’ll end up doing something stupid to get here.
Just like my parents.
To get my mind off the out-of-reach woman and away from the dark parts of my life, I pick up a plate and view the spread. It’s everything you could want at a party and more. Crab cakes piled high on a platter, surrounded by bowl after bowl of chips. There’s enough dirty rice to serve a football team, along with crawfish boiled and ready to eat. As I move along, I discover crispy fried chicken, po’ boy sliders, creamy grits, and desserts in all sorts of Halloween shapes. One plate could never accommodate a sampling from each.
Well, Paige did say she wanted to see me roll out of here. I guess that means seconds and possibly even thirds are allowed.
My plate is almost filled to capacity when a throat clears meaningfully beside me.
I turn toward the noise and almost drop all my preciously collected food.
The man in front of me has taken the horror part of Halloween seriously. Some people might go for gore or gaping wounds for shock value, but this guy chose another route and achieved a greater effect. His entire face is covered in black and white makeup, skillfully executed, transforming him into a living skeleton. From the dark sockets, eyes stare unblinking at me.
Not many people can meet my eyes with me standing at over six feet. This man has no issue there, tall as I am, and his assured presence seeming to add a few extra inches. If he had gone with a spandex skeleton suit, maybe the effect would have been more humorous than intimidating. Instead, he has on a sleekly tailored black suit, paired with a black silk shirt, and a slim black tie.
On the day I die, this will be the image before me. The grim reaper serenely adjusting his skull cufflinks before dragging me to hell.
The embodiment of death speaks.
“You’re here with my daughter, it would seem.”
Chapter Seventeen
Dash
This demon of a man is Paige’s father.
“Yes, sir. That is, I mean, I’m her friend.”
“Her friend.” Mr. Herbert continues to stare at me, and I do not doubt this man is a judge. I bet if he dressed like this when sitting on the bench there would be a hell of a lot more guilty confessions.
“And I help train Pumpkin.” Normally, my reaction to authority figures is an unconscious urge to flip them the finger and break something in their vicinity. But I’ve been working to stifle that reaction and for some reason, with Paige’s father, I don’t want him to see me as just another delinquent.
I wonder if Paige told him about my trouble with the law.
Would he have let me into his house if he knew?
“Dad! Don’t scare him!” Paige appears from the crowd, my skeletal savior. She steps between her father and me, clutching two plastic cups full of colorful liquid.
“I’m not scaring him. I’m greeting him.”
Paige rolls her eyes, and I can’t help smiling down at her doubting face.
Healthy family interactions used to fill me with envy, but now I view them like I might a sitcom. Enjoyable to watch, but with the knowledge that they’ll never be my reality.
“Dash, this is my dad. People tend to find him intimidating. Dad, this is Dash, he’s friends with me and Pumpkin, so you have to be nice to him.”
Mr. Herbert’s mouth gives a twitch, and I can tell he finds his daughter’s command amusing. If my sister had ever talked that way to my father, she would’ve been locked in her room until morning.
“I don’thaveto do anything, baby girl.” The indulgent way the man speaks makes me think he’s just trying to rile his daughter up.
“You do if you don’t want me to tell Mom about those cigars I saw delivered a couple of days ago.”
Mr. Herbert frowns, but his eyes still hold a smile. The exchange fascinates me.
“Blackmail is beneath you.”
“And being rude to my friends is beneath you. So, we’ve reached an understanding?”
