Twelve
After dinner the conversation turns to Dave’s house.
The one he bought three years ago and fixed up.
I learn he made it all handicap accessible in the event one of his parents would need accommodations as they got older.
Mom, Dad, and I were amazed there were so many options available, and once the topic is exhausted, he readies to go home.
I walk him out to his truck and step up onto the running board. Once he gets in and closes the door, I rest my forearms along the open window frame until we’re standing close enough for me to notice tiny flecks hiding inside his blue eyes.
“Your house sounds beautiful,” I say.
“I like it. It finally feels like home.” He nods toward the row houses behind me. “If you have some time, I’d like to show it to you if you.”
“I’d like that.” The words slip out softer than I intend. “But you said you might move to Washington.” I ask.
His lips press together. “Maybe. A company has made me an offer. I’d be traveling if I take them up on it.
They sought me out so I’m pretty much naming my price, and what I want.
But one perk would be that they have a massive satellite office near where you’re stationed.
Maybe then I can convince you to spare a little time for me. ”
Silence falls between us and it feels warm instead of awkward. This conversation seems filled with everything we’ve never thought to admit.
Dave reaches through the open window, his hand sliding gently around the back of my neck.
His fingers disappear into my hair, sending a delicious shiver racing through me as he pulls me close.
When his lips meet mine, concerns of the distance between us vanish.
I feel like I’m a kid again. I’ve imagined kissing Dave since I was thirteen years old.
The kiss deepens by slow degrees until my knees threaten to betray me. I tighten my grip on the truck door just to stay upright. When he finally pulls away, we stay put, our foreheads touching as we stare, wondering if we’ve both discovered something we’d been searching for.
“Charity.” Dad calls to me from the door.
I smile, still dazed, before turning toward the porch. Dad stands behind the mesh screen. “Your mother’s looking for you.”
“I’ll be right there.”
After that, too many things happen to register coherently.
Trooper hears my voice and pushes at the door, his tiny nose wedging into the narrow opening.
Dad attempts to stop him, but his hand is wrapped around the handle, using it for balance.
He’s unsuccessful, and as the handle presses downward beneath his grip, Trooper attempts an escape.
The screen door pops open only a few inches but it’s enough room for him to break free.
Trooper blasts through the opening like a tiny black cannonball and runs out into the street.
“Trooper!” I yell as I jump down from the running board to catch him before he runs away.
Then, the growl of a powerful engine rips through the quiet neighborhood, catching me off guard.
A black sports car explodes from around the corner, driving far too fast for a residential street.
Trooper freezes in the middle of the road, realizing the danger charging toward him.
His little head jerks toward the sound and a frightened yelp pierces the evening as the car’s tires shriek against asphalt.
The driver sees him and slams on the brakes. The scent of burnt rubber fills the air. The man is unsuccessful at stopping, and the front of the car dips violently as it skids straight toward him, and Trooper’s terrified eyes find mine.
Somewhere behind me I hear Dave shout my name, mixing with Dad’s voice too. The screen door bangs shut and the world narrows.