Six
SIX
SOLEIL
Four days of dropping off and picking up Dahlia from school, and four days of shameless staring at her teacher from beneath my sunglasses. How is it possible that Malik Dare gets more handsome each day? Is he such a good human that God blesses him with an extra dose of gorgeous when he wakes each morning? It’s truly unfair to the rest of the world for this man to be walking around, putting many others to shame.
Now it’s Friday afternoon and I stand with the rest of the parents –mostly gawking mothers– as Malik says goodbye to each kid in their own unique way. Today, Dahlia stands in the back of the line and I see her giggle as she draws near. When it’s finally her turn, she hops up to him and they begin their handshake. They both laugh as they move through it and at the end, instead of walking away like she normally does, Dahlia throws her arms around Malik’s neck. The look on his face is one of pleasant surprise and he pats her back gently.
“Bye Mr. Dare. I hope you have a good weekend. And if you get lonely, I’m sure Mommy will let you come over. We’re having a movie night in the backyard. It’s gonna be real fun.”
He laughs, standing to his full height, and passes me a smile. “That sounds like a lot of fun. But maybe it’s just a mommy-daughter weekend. Another time, yeah?”
I smile and shake my head. My daughter is one thing for sure and it is not shy. She skips over to me and I hug her.
“Hi my little dove.” I kiss her cheek and take her hand in mine. “I’m sorry. We don’t have a lot of friends in town, so I think she has latched onto you.”
He takes a few steps closer and I see the unique swirls of gray that light up his eyes. “It sounds like a pretty fun weekend to me. I haven’t had a backyard movie night…ever,” he admits.
“What?” Dahlia’s jaw falls open. “Mommy. Can Mr. Dare please come to our movie night? Please please please?”
I look nervously at Malik and he sees the worry in my eyes.
“I already have plans this weekend. But thank you for inviting me.”
There was a small sliver of hope that Malik might take Dahlia up on the offer to join us, but the rational part of me knew he wouldn’t.
We wave goodbye and I gently pull Dahlia out to our car.
“Sweetheart. You can’t just go inviting random people over to our house. What if they’re dangerous?” I buckle her into her booster seat and slip into the driver’s seat.
“But Mommy. Mr. Dare isn’t a stranger or dangerous. He’s my teacher and he’s the best. I want him to come over. Then we can watch movies and play games and we can make him brownies.”
That man is plenty dangerous . At least he is to my system. I was extremely accurate in my assumption that my vibrator would be getting a workout this week. Every day brought a new outfit, which brought a new set of fantasies of being the teacher's pet.
“Well next time, why don’t you check with me before you send out invites. Got it?”
I look at her in the rearview mirror and her little face falls.
“Got it.”
“Let’s go get candy and popcorn. I plan to have a tummy ache by the time the movie is over.”
She throws her fists up in the air and cheers, “Yes! Me too! I just hope I don’t throw up this time. That was no fun.”
Just as predicted, both Dahlia and I went to bed with a pretty significant belly ache from the candy and popcorn we gorged on. I don’t allow that often and every time we splurge on sugar, we always regret it in the morning.
And this morning is no different except for the fact that I’m out of her favorite Pedialyte and soda crackers. With no other option than to take her with me, I slip on her sandals and carry her out to the car.
“I’m sorry. I hate that I have to take you with me to the store, but if you want to feel better, we’ve got to.”
She groans and holds her stomach. “I never wanna eat Skittles again, Mommy.”
With a small laugh I remind her, “That’s what you said last time.”
Her eyes pop open and she looks at me with all seriousness. “Well this time I’m not fibbin’.”
“Okay sweetheart. We’ll be back home in no time.”
We drive to the store with a video playing on the screen for Dahlia to watch and the windows down just slightly. She said the fresh air was good for her, and I assume she heard that from my Mom a time or two.
She makes me carry her through the store and I juggle her and the cart as I add her favorite flavor drink, crackers, and some soup. The girl acts like she’s been diagnosed with the plague when it’s a simple upset stomach.
I snag a book off a discount shelf as we pass by and hustle back out to the car once everything is paid for.
Her head lolls to the side and she reminds me, “The window, Mommy.”
I give her a few inches then make our way back home. We pull up to a stoplight when the turr of an engine pulls our attention.
“Mom! Look!” Dahlia seems to suddenly feel better as she points out the window. “Roll my window down. Please.”
A man on a motorcycle sits next to us, moving his arms and body as if he’s dancing to music playing in his head. A car full of young women pulls up on the other side of him and they begin waving and shouting for his attention. But he doesn’t even flinch in their direction. Instead, he focuses all of his attention on Dahlia.
She waves frantically at him and he begins waving back. She shouts “ hi ” at him and he brings his hand to his helmeted mouth then makes as if he’s blowing her a kiss. He looks down at his bike and quickly engages the kickstand before jumping up from his seat. I tense as he comes close but he stops arms length and holds out a rose to Dahlia.
She takes it, her face lightening up, and tells me, “Mommy. I got a rose! Like my middle name.”
He directs his gaze to where I sit and motions for me to roll down my window. I do so reluctantly and he carefully drops something on my seat. When I look closer, I see that it’s a business card.
Picking it up, I read what it says.
Dancing King
Your favorite dancing biker
Follow @D_King
I look up to see him hustling back to his bike and he waves.
“Bye mister biker.” Dahlia says goodbye as the light turns green and he speeds off.
I sit staring at him for a moment until the loud honk startles me. I lift a hand to apologize to the car behind me and pull away.
“Did you see that, Mommy? He blew me a kiss.” Her upset belly seems to suddenly be pushed to the back as the excitement from mister biker shadows it.
“I did. How cool was that?”
She begins to snake her arms and wiggle her body as best as she can buckled into her seat and laughs. “I want to ride a motorcycle and dance like that when I’m big.”
“Those are pretty dangerous, Dahlia. I think it’s best if you stick to four wheels.”
“Well I think it looks fun and I want a pink bike when I’m grown up.”
Over my dead body , I think. Those things are flying death traps. I’ll be damned if I let my most prized possession get on one of those. Grown-up or not.