Wait for It

by Mariana Zapata

  With only the flashlight app that came on my phone, I moved the beam around the ground, CSI style, trying to find a trace of a shoelace or something.

  “You lost your shoe again, dummy?”

  I didn’t bother turning around to talk to Josh. “Don’t call your brother that… even if he did lose it.”

  “I said I was sorry,” Louie muttered.

  I smirked as I kicked a broken branch over to make sure it hadn’t mysteriously found its way beneath it. It hadn’t. “Lies. You never said you were sorry.”

  He made a humming noise on my back. His breath was warm on the little hairs on my neck. “I did in my head.”

  Despite everything, that made me laugh.

  “I’ll go look over there.” Josh sighed, already moving away from us, his attention focused on the ground.

  “What are you doing?” a voice asked from somewhere nearby a moment later.

  Straightening, I glanced over my shoulder to find my neighbor there, his expression a confused one. I couldn’t blame him. I could only imagine what I looked like stumbling around in the dark with a five-year-old on my back.

  “Hi.” This was the first time we’d seen each other since the day Anita had dropped by unexpectedly. Way unexpectedly. “We’re looking for a shoe about this size.” I used the fingers of one hand to give him an approximate length.

  Dallas hummed and immediately glanced at the ground. I’d noticed during practice he’d trimmed his facial hair. The worn, red ball cap that he usually wore during baseball practice was pulled low on his forehead. “My mom used to say my shoes would just pick up and walk out of the house on their own.”

  I eyed Louie over my shoulder and he turned his face away. Uh-huh.

  “Where did you leave it, bud?” our neighbor asked as he walked around us to search the ground further ahead.

  “I don’t know,” the boy on my back answered in a muffled tone I recognized as him being embarrassed.

  I tried to keep my snicker as quiet as possible, but it was still loud enough for Dallas to hear it and turn around. The way his eyebrows were shaped said he was amused. I couldn’t say I didn’t like that about him. After he’d brought his Xbox over, I’d watched how patient he was with Louie. Maybe he was still acting a little weird with me, but he hadn’t been the same way with either of the boys that night. When Josh and the boys had come out of the bedroom, demanding to be fed, they had all been excited to see Dallas there. Kids were awesome at sniffing out assholes, and I guess this man couldn’t be so bad if none of them complained. God knows Josh wouldn’t keep his opinion to himself on someone.

  It also helped that the thing Trip told me about Dallas’s ex helped me not take his coolness personally.

  “We’ll find it. Don’t worry,” he assured the monkey on my back.

  Obviously, he’d never lost a child’s shoe before, because it wasn’t that often they were found. A lot of times they disappeared never to be seen again like socks in the dryer. But I didn’t want to ruin his optimism. A few kids streaked by us, oblivious to our treasure hunt. We probably searched for another five minutes before a boy ran right in front of Dallas. Quick as lightning, he struck his hand out and grabbed the kid on Josh’s team by the back of his workout jersey, hauling him to a stop.

  “Dean, you seen a shoe?” Dallas asked Trip’s son, the hand on the back of his shirt moving up to touch the back of the kid’s neck in an affectionate pat.

  The dark blond, a little taller than Josh, frowned. “No.” He seemed to think about it a second. “What kinda shoe?”

  Our neighbor gestured toward Louie and me. “Little boy shoe. A tennis shoe.”

  “Oh.” The kid swiveled his attention to us, his smiling creeping up in a way that didn’t seem like it belonged on a boy about ten or eleven. “Hi, Ms. Diana.”

  “Hi, Dean.” I smiled at him.

  The grin on his face really was something else. “I’ll find it,” the boy said right before taking off in the direction he’d come, back toward a small group of kids younger than him.

  Not really expecting much, I figured I’d wait a few more minutes before we headed home. I was resigned to the inevitable: having to buy another pair of shoes, this time from Walmart. Plus, it was getting late, and I’d left chili cooking in the Crock-Pot that morning. It was more than likely only a minute later before Dean rushed back toward us, his hand extended. In it was a red and black tennis shoe that I now accepted was brand spanking new. Mrs. Larsen really had tried to pull a fast one on me. Huh.

  “What do you say, Lou?” I asked as I took the sneaker from him.

  “Thank you,” he mumbled a little lower than he usually would have.

  “Thanks, Dean,” I emphasized. “We really appreciate it.”

  The boy did that smile again that my gut said was all trouble. “Anything for you, Ms. Diana.”

  This kid was something else.

  “Thank you?” I said, shooting a glance at Dallas, who had this ridiculous expression on his face like he didn’t know what to think either.

  “See ya, Josh,” the boy called out to my nephew before bumping fists with Dallas and running off again. “Bye, Uncle Dal.”

  Louie slid off my back, plopping down on the dirt, oblivious to the fact he was wearing his khaki school pants and the ground was damp from an earlier rain shower. He started putting his shoe on, slapping the Velcro straps over to the other side.

  “Thank you for asking him to look,” I told our neighbor, keeping an eye on Lou at the same time to make sure something else didn’t magically disappear.

  “Yeah, thank you, Mr. Dallas.”

  “Dallas, and you’re welcome. I told you we’d find it.”

  Lou climbed to his feet, rolling onto his knees as if getting his butt dirty hadn’t been enough. “We’re gonna have chili tonight. You wanna come?” he asked so suddenly, it caught me completely off guard.

  I froze, snapping my gaze up to Dallas, smiling tightly.

  He is married, I reminded myself. Married. The last thing I wanted to do was give him the impression we were trying to wrangle him in to our lives more than he needed to be.

  Those hazel eyes bounced back and forth between Louie and me. “Chili?”

  “It’s real good.”

  Louie didn’t know a damn stranger. He was so honest and innocent in his answer it made me wish everyone was so upfront. It also made me want to protect his feelings that much more. “I’m sure Mr. Dallas—” I started to say before getting cut off by our neighbor.

  “Just Dallas,” he cut in.

  “—has plans already, Lou. We can invite him another day, not at the last minute.”

  The boy blinked up at the man with those blue eyes that could conquer worlds if he ever put his mind to it. “You got things to do?”

  Our neighbor opened his mouth, hesitation right there, an apology, an excuse, something, on his tongue, but he closed it just as quickly. He seemed to take in Louie completely, and I knew what he was seeing: the cutest boy in the world. “It’s real good?” he asked Louie, a soft, gradual smile crossing his mouth.

  The enthusiastic nod of my boy could win over the biggest Grinch. It was both a blessing and a curse. He used it on me on a regular basis.

  Our neighbor was done.

  “If your mom doesn’t mind….” He trailed off, giving me an almost apologetic look.

  To anyone else, the frown that came over Louie’s face at the “M” word wouldn’t have meant anything other than a kid not liking the chance he might not get his way. But to me, I knew what that frown was for, and Louie’s answer didn’t make me feel better. He ignored the “M” word and went with, “Buttercup doesn’t care, do you?”

  * * *

  “Can I help with anything?”

  Glancing over my shoulder, I shook my head at the tall man standing in my kitchen for the third time in a week. “It’s only a couple of dishes. I’m almost done.”

  Dallas scanned the kitchen, eyeing it the same way he had the
first time he’d come in, probably looking at all the imperfections I would get to fixing eventually. “Thanks for dinner.”

  Rinsing off the last dish and setting it into the rack, I dried my hands on the towel I had hanging off the stove. “You’re welcome.” I turned to face him as the sounds of the boys in the living room told us they were arguing. What was new?

  “It was real good,” he said, and if I wasn’t completely imagining it, there was a playful hint to his tone.

  I couldn’t help but smile at him. Dinner had only been a little awkward at the beginning, thankfully. We never really used the dining room table unless my parents or the Larsens were over, and this time hadn’t been an exception. The four of us had sat around the coffee table with bowls and pieces of bread, Josh and Dallas talking about professional baseball nearly the entire time. Meanwhile, Louie and I had taken turns opening our mouths at each other when they were full of chili.

  “Thank you for coming. Lou doesn’t really…” How did I say this? “He doesn’t really spend a lot of time with men who aren’t in their sixties since his dad died, and you’ve always been really nice to him. He likes you. Thanks for that, by the way. That’s really nice of you.”

  Some nerve in that hard face seemed to jump in disbelief or discomfort, I couldn’t be sure. I didn’t realize I’d mentioned Rodrigo’s death until after I was done. Dallas reached up to scrub at the trimmed hairs along his jaw, shaking his head. “Don’t thank me. He’s a good kid. They’re both good kids.” His hand moved along to palm the back of his neck. “My dad died when I was young. I’m sure I would’ve been the same way when I was his age. I get it.”

  His dad had died? I didn’t know that. Then again, how would I? I wondered how old he’d been, but kept the question to myself, focusing on the good part of what he’d said, and part of me hoped he wouldn’t ask about my brother, so I switched the subject.

  “I’m sure that mindset helps when you’re coaching little boys. I can tell they all really like you.” I could. When Dallas talked to them, their attention was zeroed in on him. He was patient with them even when they didn’t listen to his instructions and kept doing the wrong thing over and over again. I don’t think I would have been able to keep it together so well.

  That amazing hazel-eyed gaze slid over to me, and he raised a brawny shoulder casually. “That’s why I do it. I like the idea of being there for somebody who maybe doesn’t have anyone else around, teaching them what I didn’t have someone around to teach me.” He stated it like what he’d been through as a kid without a father was a fact. Like not having a dad was just something as uncomplicated as him not having a dog growing up. He didn’t say it like it was some huge, secret burden. It just was what it was, and I thought that was why his words hit me so hard. He actually liked what he did for a good reason.

  I swallowed and somehow kept myself from smiling at him, knowing that would probably just make the situation awkward. “I’m not saying this to flirt with you…” The sides of his mouth flexed the slightest bit at the same time I made that comment, but I kept going. I was just messing with him, I told myself, trying to keep this as light as I could. “But that’s really nice of you. You never know when even a little bit of kindness might change someone’s life.”

  Dallas’s smile slowly melted into a serious expression and a stiff nod. “I know.”

  He knew. After rubbing my hands on my pants, I reached over for the towel I had next to the sink and started to refold it. “So, how’d you end up with the Tornado?”

  “Trip wanted to start his own team because he had a falling out with Dean’s old coach, and got me drunk enough to agree to take one on with him as an assistant. He didn’t know shit about baseball, but he’s learned. I had to read a couple of books about the rules. I hadn’t played in years,” he explained.

  “Did you play ball when you were younger or what?”

  “Little league and high school. I watched it more than I played it. I didn’t go to some fancy school for it or anything.”

  There was something in his tone then that didn’t sit right with me. “I didn’t go to some fancy school for anything either.” I needed to stop looking him in the eyes unless it was necessary. “I hated college. I did a semester of basics and decided it wasn’t for me.”

  “You cut hair?”

  “And color it… and style it,” I added in a joking voice before stopping myself. God forbid he think I was flirting. “I mostly do color now.”

  Dallas leaned a hip against the kitchen counter, crossing both arms over his chest. I’d already noticed all the dirty smudges along his forearms and biceps from practice. He’d taken off his cap before he’d come over. “Trip said you won’t cut his hair.”

  And I thought I had a big mouth. “Nope.”

  Those dark brown eyebrows knitted together like he couldn’t believe I would say no to his cousin. “Why?”

  “I’m doing just fine with mostly only women, some kids, and the few men who have stuck with me for a while now. I’m not worried about it. The last time I took a new male client, he tried to stick his face between my boo—chest.” I shrugged. “No more for me.”

  He frowned. “People do that?”

  “Yeah. One of my coworkers is a guy and he’s always getting his butt pinched,” I explained to him before making a face. “But he doesn’t mind half the time as long as he gets a good tip.”

  The shocked look on his face made me laugh.

  “Mr. Dallas, do you wanna play Xbox with me?” came Louie’s singsong voice from the living room.

  What the hell? It was after ten. The only reason I hadn’t sent them to bed yet was because I’d been washing dishes.

  “Isn’t it his bedtime?” Dallas asked in a lowered voice.

  I nodded at him. “Louie! Play Xbox my ass—butt. Come tell Mr. Dallas goodnight so you can get to bed,” I called out, rolling my eyes at this sneaky kid.

  I heard an “aww man” from the living room.

  It took a couple of seconds for Louie to trudge into the kitchen, heading straight toward the neighbor. He still hadn’t even bothered putting his pajamas on yet. His school pants were even dirtier than I’d imagined. His face seemed flush, but I ignored it. “Goodnight, Mr. Dallas.” He sounded grumpy. Too bad.

  “Night, Louie,” Dallas answered back, that big, gruff hand lowering so he could get a high five from a hand so much smaller than his.

  Louie gave him a little smile as he slapped his hand down as hard as he could. “You can come by tomorrow if you want. Right, Buttercup?”

  Uhh…

  “I got something I gotta do tomorrow, but maybe after that. We’ll see, buddy, yeah?” the man reasoned, saving me the trouble of having to find a way to tell Lou our neighbor had other things to do.

  If Dallas didn’t know it, he found out then: my Louie was the most innocent soul in the universe. He didn’t ask for much. He didn’t need much. And Dallas’s vague words were enough. “Okay. Goodnight.” He turned around and started to head out of the kitchen again, leaving me standing there before he finally whipped around. “See you in my room?” he asked, finally remembering I was in the same room. Traitor.

  “Yeah, Goo. I’ll see you in a minute.”

  “’Kay. Night!” he seemed to holler at us both.

  I turned to face Dallas with another apology and assurance ready, but he beat me to it.

  He lowered his chin to say, “Don’t. I know neither one of you is doing anything, or coming on to me.” He met my gaze evenly, seriously.

  I couldn’t help it. “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  I wasn’t completely convinced. “I promise. Cross my heart. I’m keeping my hands to myself, and the boys and I are fine the way we are. I’m not looking for a sugar daddy. I just don’t want you to hate me since we have to see each other all the time. Promise.”

  The man didn’t miss a beat, even the corner of his lip curled up as he murmured in that husky voice, “I know.” His mout
h almost instantly went flat. “And I don’t hate you. I thought you wanted to be friends.”

  Chapter Twelve

  My head was pounding a couple of days later.

  I wanted to throw up. I didn’t get migraines often, but when they did come a knockin’, hell had to be paid. I woke up that morning with a throbbing sensation behind one eye and it had only gotten steadily worse as I drove the boys to school. I should have known what was happening. When a call from a restricted number popped up on my screen just as I pulled into the lot at work, the pain went to another level.

  Fucking Anita again. I knew it was her.

  Thinking about her usually left me with a headache, but with her recent visit and phone call today… it was so much worse. I was nauseous and my brain wanted to burst out of my skull.

  By some miracle, I made it through my work day without throwing up or crawling under my station, thanks to over-the-counter migraine medication we kept in the break room for emergencies and so much coffee, my hand shook while I did a couple of trims. It was a miracle I hadn’t cut myself. My phone had rung twice more, once with Trip’s name flashing across the screen and the second with Dallas’s name. I hadn’t felt like dealing with their baseball business and didn’t bother answering, letting both calls go to voice mail. It was my turn to pick up the boys from school afterward. I didn’t need to look in the mirror to know that the discomfort from my migraine was written all over my face.

  They were both sweet and watched me carefully as I drove back. I’m sure they caught on to me not feeling my best, but they didn’t comment. To put the topping on the cake of how sensitive they were, when we got home, Josh offered to make them a snack so I didn’t have to.

  All I could manage to do was thank him and ruffle his hair.

  Both of them, along with Mac, headed into the backyard to play who knows what at the same time the next dose of medication I’d taken started kicking in just enough so that the light coming through the windows didn’t make me feel like I was on the verge of dying.