Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
ROSE
I ’m at work early so that if Dad wants to chat about yesterday, we can get that out of the way before customers show up. But Dad doesn’t arrive until after opening. He’s all business, and I know that once we have a lull, I’ll get one of his disappointed looks and the lecture that goes along with it.
None of it is new. And I always made a point not to rock the boat. I was always afraid of what would happen if I did. Fall in? I never wanted to risk that. But now I have this cowboy who somehow eases my fear of drowning. And that makes it easier to shake things up a bit.
During a mid-morning lull, Dad cleans up the counter where we’ve been prepping arrangements. “Calling the police on your mom was a bit extreme. She means well, and you know that.”
“Dallas called them because he saw me upset and asked what happened. And I think she only took the cat because she’s mad that I’m engaged.”
Dad sighs and doesn’t look at me. “We want the best for you, Rose. Your mother and I want to see you happy and successful. And it seems you don’t care about our opinion, which hurts.”
“Richard isn’t the best for me, Dad. I do not like him, let alone love him. If I dated him, I’d be miserable. You know who is good for me? Dallas. He cares about my opinions, my concerns.”
“Don’t speak badly of Richard. His parents are some of our dearest friends. We’re like family. And when you speak ill of Richard, you are slandering them. Don’t do that. And I’m not sure about this Dallas guy. He seems like a troublemaker to me.”
“Well, I love him.” The words are much too easy to say about a man I just met. But he has shown more care for my needs than I’ve gotten from my parents ever. They only cared when my needs were in line with their vision for my life.
“I don’t think we should have dinner together. Your mom needs time to recover from the scare of having a deputy at her door.”
“Okay. No problem. You can meet him at the engagement party.” I busy myself with the display cabinet so that I don’t have to see Dad’s scowl.
“The cat needs to be out by tonight. Your mom is worried about the condition of the apartment. Pet damage.” There is an apologetic hint to his words. He backs up Mom with whatever she wants, but when he knows it hurts me, there is always that thread of apology and guilt.
Now, I meet his gaze. “Floofy moved in with Dallas until I find a new place.”
Dad’s eyes go wide. “You don’t need to move. Living in our apartment, you save money. And you’re safe. The neighborhood is good. Rentals that you can afford are in dangerous areas. Moving doesn’t make sense.”
“How much notice do you need? A month? Two weeks? Just let me know.” I smile as a customer walks in.
Their timing is perfect, and I’d hug them, but that would be super weird.
Later in the day, my mom starts texting me all the reasons I cannot move out of the apartment. And every single text is just added motivation to find a new place to live.
Once I’m in my car, I text Dallas.
Me: Is it okay if I come over for a bit to see Floofy?
He’s probably out roping cattle or tossing hay bales, so I toss my phone in the cupholder and head toward home. On the way, I’ll stop to get boxes. And if Dallas doesn’t mind me lounging on his sofa, I’ll search for places to rent.
My phone buzzes just as I’m parking outside my apartment, and I laugh when I read the text.
Dallas: Floofy? That’s who you want to see? I’m hurt.
He ends the text with a winking emoji.
Dallas: Come over any time. I have a quick errand to run, but the door is unlocked. Make yourself at home.
Dots dance on the screen, and I wait for another message.
He sends a pin, so that I can easily find his place.
I send him a heart, then lug my boxes inside. Mom’s texts have gone unanswered, but if she’s peeking out the window, she’ll get a hint about my coming response. After tossing the boxes inside, I throw together a sandwich, then pull up the map using the pin Dallas sent.
At the end of this, I hope he and I will be friends. Maybe more. But it’s a bit early in the relationship to hope for that.
When I get to his place, his truck isn’t there, and it feels rather strange to just let myself into his house. If Floofy weren’t inside, I’d just wait in the car. But I walk to the door and knock. Just in case he’s here but his truck isn’t.
Only Floofy answers.
I step inside, being quick so that my kitty won’t escape and try to explore the big ranch. Catching him outside would be a nightmare. And I don’t even want to think about all the scary things that would harm him.
As soon as I put down my laptop, I scoop up Floofy, who seems very happy to see me. He’s bumping his head on my chin and purring loudly.
“Hello, sweetheart. Is Dallas taking good care of you?”
The house is sparsely furnished. A couch, a side table, a small dinner table, two chairs. There isn’t even a television. The walls are bare. Has he not fully settled in or is this just the way he likes his house?
It’s a far cry from my place.