Dakota
I stepped out the Felder’s front door to find Mr. Brett taping a trash bag to my driver’s window.
“Looks like you had an interesting time today, son,” he remarked.
“Yes, sir.”
He shook his head. “Listen, ,” he started, “I wanted to beat his ass, too, but ain’t worth you losin’ everything you’ve built for yourself down at the station.”
Mr. Brett very rarely called me by my first name, usually only when he’s really saying something he wanted me to really hear.
“I know you’re right,” I admitted. “I just want to make him feel all the pain he’s caused her.”
He finished taping the window. “Trust me, I get it. That’s my baby girl,” he spoke fondly.” But I learned a long time ago that karma will take care of those that fuck you over and if you’re lucky, you’ll be around to watch.”
I’m a lot quicker than karma, Mr. B.
“Yes, sir. Thank you… for the window and the advice.”
He slapped me on the shoulder. “You’re a good fella, Dak. Don’t stop bein’ that way because of somebody else.”
I nodded.
He gestured towards the bed of the truck. “All this Lee Lee’s?”
I lifted two containers “Yes, sir. Hopefully, it’s all of it. Jace packed it up.”
“Waste of air, that kid,” he muttered under his breath as he lifted a few totes.
Together, we made trip after trip up the stairs, arranging her stuff neatly in her bedroom.
She was no longer relaxing in bed; she had joined her mama at the kitchen island.
“Coffee?” I teased her. “It’s dark outside!”
“I drink coffee all day long,” she reminded me.
Coffee and showers. The obsessions of Lena.
Mama C handed me a cup of coffee. “Here, honey. It’ll warm you up,” she informed me. “Make sure you get that window fixed before you catch pneumonia.”
“Window?” Lena piped up. “What window?”
Thanks, Mama.
I ran my fingers through my oily hair. “The window on the driver’s door of my truck got knocked out,” I explained hesitantly.
Her eyes widened. “What?” Sitting her cup of coffee on the island, she jumped off her stool and sprinted toward the front door.
Sighing, I stared up at the ceiling.
Mr. Brett put his coffee mug in the sink. “Both of the Felder woman are motor mouths. She ran out there with no shoes on.”
I sat down my mug. “I’ll take her some shoes.”
Grabbing her hunting boots from the entryway shelf, I followed her out the front door.
She was standing at my truck surveying the damage. “! What the fuck happened?!” she hollered out.
Girl, your mama gonna wash your mouth out with soap.
I pressed my fingers to my lips reminding her that it wasn’t just us in the general area. “Watch your mouth!” I hissed. “Your mama might be able to hear us.”
Guiltily, she ducked behind the driver’s door. “Fuck!” she whispered. “What happened?”
Nothin’ compared to what could have happened.
“Jace and I had a little…riff… but it wasn’t bad and everything is fine.”
“Everything is fine? There’s glass all over your truck, !”
No shit, Sherlock.
“I know it,” I told her calmly. “Put these on.”
She snatched her boots from me and slid them on.
“Well, come on!”
Come on where, crazy lady?
“Where to?”
She threw her hands up in frustration and spoke to me as if I were a child. “We are going to the corner store so we can vacuum all this glass out of your damn seat!”
I shook my head. “I’ll get it later.”
She had already climbed up into the passenger side. “Get the fuck in the truck, ,” she ordered.
Knowing she wasn’t going to let this go, I got the fuck in the truck.