Chapter 5
Chapter Five
ECHO
October 2000
I ntroducing Dustin to my parents, mainly my father, isn’t something I ever wanted to do. The fact that my dad is the new pastor in town and small towns usually consist of gossipers, I know he’ll inevitably hear about it. And I can’t risk him hearing about it from someone besides me. If I keep it a secret, he’ll think I’m hiding something, making it look more suspicious, and give him a reason to question it—even more than he already will. I want to believe that being open and honest with him will help gain his trust. Although I have a nagging sensation it will do the opposite.
“You want to do what exactly?” My dad folds the newspaper and crosses his legs, giving me his undivided attention. I hate it. I want him to stay distracted while I bring up the boy topic. I’m not a fan of the one-on-one time with the man.
“I want to go to the dinner down the street with my friend Dustin. He also plays drums for the youth now,” I add for good measure.
“And what’s the point in you doing this?” he questions. I think he does so in hopes that I’ll just back down altogether instead of facing his judgmental ways.
“Uh, to grab a bite to eat and hang out.” I want to add a “duh,” but that won’t be beneficial whatsoever. I cringe once I realize I labeled Dustin a friend. Technically, he is just a friend, but he’s one that I like. A lot. But I can’t tell my dad that. Apparently, I have no balls when it comes to him.
“Just a friend, you say?” He raises his brows.
“Ahh.” I look past him to where my mom is standing. I don’t want to lie because I want my parents to trust me, but then my mom does the most unexpected thing ever and nods. She’s standing behind my dad, so I know exactly what she’s doing. She wants me to tell my dad yes to shut the man up. She knows him far better than me, and for some reason, she’s helping me out.
A knock on the door causes me to jump. I know it’s Dustin. Suddenly, I begin to sweat. I told the boy to wait for my cue, but just like always, he doesn’t listen. He’s stubborn and likes to do things his way—which, for the most part, usually works out perfectly.
As I stand, I look over at my dad, who is eyeing the door. “Yes, he is a friend. One that I like. And if you give him a chance, you’ll like him too.”
The closer I get to the door, the stronger the butterflies in my stomach become. It’s amazing that my excitement to see Dustin overpowers my nerves about him meeting my father.
“Good afternoon, Echo,” Dustin says with a huge grin and a wink as I open the door. He knows how worried I am about introducing him, and I know he’ll do everything to give the best impression.
My mother comes to my side, and Dustin instantly sticks his hand out to her. “Pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Price. I’m Dustin Adams.”
This guy has manners, and man, it’s hot. Not that I expected any less from him because he’s always carried himself differently than most guys, but seeing that side, the I can make anyone love me, even your overbearing parents’ side, makes me fall for him a bit more.
“Nice meeting you, Dustin. But please, call me Donna.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says with that Dustin charm and Southern drawl. “If I slip up and call you Mrs. Price, please don’t take offense. It’s a habit my parents have instilled in me since I could talk. So I’m not sure it can be turned off.”
“Completely understandable.” My mother smiles, and I can see that she’s impressed.
“That’s a habit more parents need to teach their children.” My dad walks up, making his presence known. “It’s partly what’s responsible for the youth in this day and age,” he mumbles.
“So good to finally meet you.” Dustin bypasses my mother and me and extends his hand to my father. “I really enjoyed your sermon last Sunday.”
“Is that so? Well, son, what part stuck out to you the most?” There it is. My dad is testing him. He’s calling bullshit without saying it.
Dustin answers without skipping a beat. “I enjoyed it all, but the part that stuck out was men being the leaders in the household. And that it’s their responsibility to lead a godly lifestyle for their family to pursue. Being from a family that hasn’t always been in church, I never really understood the value. So it was a true eye-opener.”
I watch him intently, appreciating the sincerity in his tone and words.
And that, folks, is how you win over an overbearing pastor father—you agree with his way of thinking.
My dad eyes Dustin for a moment, contemplating what he said. I’m sure he’s performing his own lie detector on him, watching for any weird twitching or some form of deceit. But the truth is that Dustin isn’t lying. He isn’t trying to get on my dad’s good side by making stuff up or putting on a facade. He’s being genuine, and when my dad’s stance goes from being on guard to relaxing, I can tell he sees it, too.
My dad crosses his arms, and his stoic features settle back in. “Then I’m sure you’ll enjoy this Sunday’s. It’s titled, Dating the Pastor’s daughter .” His voice is deep, with no sign of humor.
There’s a slight pause. My dad eyes Dustin and then me. Then he smiles and lets out a laugh. We all follow suit, and before it gets more awkward, Dustin, being the smooth guy he is, shakes my dad’s hand one last time, saying, “I’ll make sure to be there.”
“All right, see y’all later,” I said, practically yanking Dustin out behind me.
“It wasn’t that bad,” he says, taking my hand in his. I look back, making sure we’re in the clear. Dustin looks back, then tightens his grip, stopping us in the middle of the sidewalk. He stands in front of me, lets go of my hand, and places his hands on my face. His light green eyes hold my vision in a vise. I could stare at them for the rest of my life. “I know you’re worried. I get it. I’ll never do anything to jeopardize this.” He glances down, shaking his head, and I know he wants this just as badly as I do. “I’ll do my best to smooth over anything that might come our way.” His brows furrow as he glances away momentarily before looking back at me with a fierceness I’ve yet to see. “But I also won’t cower away from your father.”
“But…” I try to speak, but he silences me.
“But nothing, Echo. Everything about us is only becoming more. One day, he is going to have to accept this and who you want in your life…because I’m not going anywhere.”
I see a rock-solid certainty in his eyes, and I know he means what he says. He pulls me closer, placing a kiss on my forehead.
I lift my hands, drape them over his shoulders, and let out a sigh. “Thanks. You’re just the first guy I’ve ever liked.” I hate admitting it, but I know Dustin won’t revel in it.
“And your last,” he emphasizes, making me smile. The idea of having Dustin forever gives me butterflies.
“Sometimes I just wonder how far my dad will go to get his way.” My smile fades as that sinking feeling hits me.
“Hey, hey. Let’s not think about the what-ifs. Let’s live in the what is . And the what is right now is we’re about to go get our grub on…in public…together.” He grins, causing his perfect dimple to come into view.
He’s right. There is no reason to dread what could happen—it will only keep me from enjoying the present. Somewhere in the last few weeks, he has become my voice of reason. And after that, my voice of reason and I walk hand in hand the few blocks we have left to the diner.
“Seat yourself,” a middle-aged brunette says from behind the counter. “I’ll be with ya in a sec.”
“Back here.” Dustin drags me behind him to the booth at the very back. It is deserted.
I sit down, and to my surprise, Dustin doesn’t sit next to me.
“As much as I want to sit next to you, I’d rather sit across from you so I can see your beautiful face.” It’s as if he read my mind…or maybe my face. He seems good at doing both.
“What can I getcha to drink?” the brunette asks, dropping two flimsy menus in front of us.
“I’ll have a root beer, please.”
“Same,” Dustin says with a smile.
“Be right back.” She dashes off.
Dustin looks down at his menu, naming off each item and rating it. “I’d give their burgers a solid eight. Their chicken fried steak is subpar.”
I snicker at him, causing him to look up.
“What?” he sheepishly asks, grabbing my hand that’s on the table.
“Nothing.” I shake my head. “You’re just cute.”
“Cute,” he repeats, raising a brow.
My cheeks heat and I know I’m blushing. “Fine, more than cute,” I admit. He shrugs, accepting my answer as the waitress returns and sits our drinks down.
“Y’all know whatcha want, or do ya need a minute?”
“I’m not really all that hungry,” I admit as I shut my menu.
“Well, in that case…” Dustin gives me a wicked smile. “Let me do the honors.” He grabs my menu, places it on top of his, and holds them out for the waitress. “Extra-large chocolate shake for her. And an extra-large order of fries for me,” he orders.
“I’m not sure who’s going to croak from a heart attack first.” I laugh at the calories we’re about to intake.
“I have a feeling if there’s any croaking, it will be mutually timed,” he retorts.
“Aw, are we going to die like Noah and Ally did in The Notebook ?” I propose with a giggle.
“ The Notebook .” He scrunches his nose and furrows his brows.
“Never mind.” I shake my head with a smile.
Our waitress returns and sits the massive chocolate shake in front of me and the fries in front of Dustin.
“We’re sharing,” he adds. “Fries are meant to be dipped into chocolate shakes. I’m pretty sure it’s a rule somewhere. Just like peanut butter and jelly. They go hand in hand.” He shrugs.
“Are you pregnant?” I ask, trying to keep my face serious but can’t. I burst into a fit of laughter, and he follows suit.
“Listen,” Dustin says, dipping a fry into my shake, then shoving it into his mouth, “don’t knock it till you try it.” He raises a brow, challenging me.
“Fine,” I huff, grabbing a fry. I lightly dip it into the chocolate goodness, not wanting to fully coat it. I’m not about to go all in and it be disgusting. I hold it in front of my face and stare hesitantly. I look at Dustin, who’s snickering and shaking his head.
“It’s not going to kill ya.”
I close my eyes and take a bite. I almost pinch my nose for safety measures. I’m not one to step outside of my box. When I know I like something, I stick with it. I don’t continue trying other things to add to my palate. Maybe I’m uncultured. The cold chocolate hits my taste buds first, followed by the salty warmth from the fry. I quickly push the bite down my throat and take a long sip of my chocolate shake to get the taste out.
“You’re nasty, Dustin. I can’t even believe I like you,” I tease, taking another slurp of my shake. “The only thing that should ever go with French fries is ketchup. Or ranch. Because ranch goes with everything.” I huff.
“Now you’re the one who’s nasty,” Dustin says as he shivers with disgust.
“Take it back.” I stand and move to his side of the booth. “Take it back, Dustin.” I start tickling him. “If this is ever going to be more, you need to take it back.” I laugh as I continue tickling him.
“You can’t tickle me into submission.” He laughs, acting like he’s trying to get away. But I know better. He likes the closeness, even if it’s just us being silly.
HAND IN HAND, Dustin walks me back home. A block away, he stops and kisses me on the cheek.
“I had a good time,” he says as we stop in front of my house.
“I did, too.” I smile back. He walks backward a few steps before turning away and walking in the direction toward his home. I stand on the porch, watching for longer than I should. I know without a doubt I’m being watched. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if we were followed from the get-go.
I sigh and brace myself for the persecution I’m sure to receive. The smell of garlic hits my nose as I open the door, and I know my mom’s making her signature chicken alfredo with my favorite garlic sticks.
I inhale deeply. “I’m home,” I announce as I try to head straight for my room. But that would be far too easy. My dad clears his throat, and I stop dead in my tracks, knowing exactly what it means. I walk backward a few steps and look to the right, spotting my dad sitting near the front room window.
I called that.
“I’m okay with you having friendships with boys. But it’s obvious you and that young man are beyond friends,” he starts the talk by pointing that out. I want to deny it, but I can’t even force myself to. It would be a lie. And there is no point in doing that. “I’m just going to lay it out there. My house, my rules. No boyfriends, no dating, no nothing until you are out of this house. You have far too much going for you to let some boy screw it all up.”
It takes every ounce of strength not to let the anger I’m feeling spill over. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from spewing the words I so desperately want to. The faint taste of blood fills my mouth. I want to scream about how unfair he is. I want to huff and puff and make a big scene. But I don’t. I keep my composure. If I act out, it’ll only make it worse.
“Do you understand?” He holds my stare while I contemplate how to reply. Obviously, I’m going to answer yes… I just don’t know if I’ll do so politely or not.
“Yes, sir.” The Jesus in me won that round.
“Good. Now,” he says as he stands up, “I don’t want you sitting by him anymore at church either. You can return to sitting up front next to your mother.”
I groan. There goes my freedom. Well, all the freedom I care about.