Chapter 13 #2
In total, we’ve got six fans to work with.
Mom grabs two while I take the other four, spreading them out across the alley wherever they might push the stale, chemical-laced air along faster.
Each one roars to life on the highest setting, the combined hum filling the space.
I prop open the fire exit in the back, letting a thin stream of fresh morning air cut through the lingering paint fumes.
By the time I circle back to the front, the air feels like it’s finally starting to move. Mom stands behind the cash register, head bowed as she studies something on the counter—probably counting through the drawer, taking inventory of what’s left. It’s such a familiar sight, it almost settles me.
Until I notice she’s not alone anymore. A shadow stretches across the entrance of the alley, darkening the doorway before the rest of them even steps inside.
I stop short the second I see him, my body locking in place like it’s forgotten how to move.
My legs refuse to cooperate, rooted to the floor even as something in me urges me forward.
Because standing in the doorway is Truett.
It’s only been a few days, but the time stretched in a way I didn’t expect, quiet and noticeable in all the wrong places.
And now, seeing him here, it snaps back into place all at once.
Something tight in my chest loosens, replaced by a sudden, overwhelming fullness I don’t quite know what to do with.
I’m still a little annoyed he had to go but relieved he’s back.
He’s wearing that same easy, toothy grin, like he never left, like this is just another ordinary morning. But there’s nothing ordinary about the way my pulse stutters or how warmth floods through me, quick and unrelenting.
I didn’t realize how much I missed the sight of him until now.
And, god—his smile. It shouldn’t hit this hard, shouldn’t send heat curling low in my chest, but it does. Somehow, impossibly, that wide grin of his is the most distracting, unfairly attractive thing I’ve seen in days.
My mom must sense me because she finally looks up and notices me standing there, frozen like a complete idiot. Curious, she follows my line of sight to see who has me so stunned. Her gaze bounces between Truett and me, piecing together the reason behind my weird behavior.
Then, I see the exact moment it clicks. Her lips curve into a knowing smile. And since I’m clearly too stunned to speak, she takes it upon herself to address the man first.
“Are you Truett?” she asks innocently enough, pretending she doesn’t remember him, but I know her too well. She’s fishing for information, a crumb of something to satisfy her curiosity.
Truett looks between my mother and me, taking in our similarities.
Same shade of dark hair, same brown skin and hazel eyes.
“Yes, ma’am. You must be Mrs. Jiménez. I’m Ezra’s…
friend.” He stumbles over the word like he’s unsure if that’s what we are.
It’s the exact problem I had this morning because “friend” seems like such a mundane word for us.
“Ezra mentioned you’re helping him fix up this old alley.
That’s very sweet of you,” Mom says, closing the cash register and walking around the counter to approach him.
She takes him in from head to toe, not once losing the pleasant smile on her face.
For a fraction of a second, her gaze turns to me, and she winks.
It’s her way of showing me she approves.
If possible, Truett’s smile only grows. Modestly, he shrugs. “This place means a lot to me. I used to come here when I was little. In many ways, Mr. Jiménez was my first teacher. He had such a passion for the sport; it was contagious. I’m sorry about your loss. He was a good man.”
Mom’s smile takes on an edge of sadness, her features softening like they do each time my father is brought up.
“A good man indeed. He spoke about you, knew you’d be off doing amazing things.
” There’s a haunting look in her eyes, one that only comes after losing your soulmate of many decades.
Before she can get too emotional though, she gestures to me.
“Thank you for helping my son. I know he’s not the easiest to work with. ”
“Mamá,” I hiss. I swear to god, this woman is fueled by embarrassing me.
Unlike me, Truett takes her words in stride. “He’s a tough nut to crack, but once you get to his core, you see just how much of a softy he is.”
I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole. Better yet, I want it to swallow my mom and Truett so they can continue to embarrass me far away from here. And yet, I can’t help but preen at his words, a warmth growing inside me I haven’t felt in a long time.
“I like you, Truett.” Mom laughs and reaches out to take his hand. A cute blush colors his cheeks as my mom squeezes his hand. “How can I repay you for helping my son with the alley? We don’t have money to pay you, I’m afraid.”
Truett shakes his head adamantly, already knowing about our financial burdens. “Oh no. I don’t expect compensation. I just really want this place to go back to its prime and hopefully reach new people. Like I said, this place means a lot to me because of my childhood.”
My mom should end it there. Say her goodbye and let me speak to Truett alone. But no. That’s not what she does, because of course it fucking isn’t. Her face lights up as if an idea just occurred to her, but I have the niggling suspicion she’s been thinking about it since I mentioned Truett.
“Hey, we’re having a family barbecue tomorrow. Plenty of food and drinks. Join us. Let my family feed you as a thank you.”
Finally, my body unfreezes, and I take a step forward. “That’s enough, Mamá. Let Truett go. He doesn’t want to come to a family party.” I close the distance between us as if proximity will somehow get my mother to leave him alone.
However, it’s not my mother I should have been worried about.
“I would love to come,” Truett says. Just like that. No hesitation at all. What the fuck? Is he trying to make me explode? I barely know what Truett is to me, and now he’s suddenly meeting my entire family?
“Good. Ezra will give you all the details. I’m going to head back over to help Mrs. Barnes in her shop. Just come and get me when you’re ready to leave,” she says the last part to me, then offers Truett a smile before heading out the door.
I wait until she’s far away before I address Truett.
“You really don’t have to come.” Even as I say it, a part of me wants him to.
But a larger, more terrified part of me wants to keep him to myself for a little while longer.
I love my family, but they’re a lot. It can even be overwhelming for me when we all get together, and I’m used to it.
I can’t imagine what that would be like for an outsider.
Truett rolls his eyes, though. “Would it make you uncomfortable if I came?” He cocks his head to the side.
Would it? I’m certain if I told him it made me uncomfortable, he wouldn’t come. But part of me wants nothing more than to have Truett there, away from the bowling setting and in a capacity where we can just hang out. But another part of me fears crossing that line.
Except haven’t we crossed the line already? At the very least, we’re straddling it, but this would push us over into new territory.
Still, I don’t want him to feel cornered by my mother, let alone my army of family members wielding insanely personal questions as artillery. “I just don’t want you to feel obligated to come. It’s really okay. I’ll just tell my mom you have other plans.”
Truett purses his lips, silently contemplating something I’m not privy to. After a pregnant pause, he smirks. “How about this? You and I make a bet. I challenge you to a bowl-off. If you win, I won’t go. But if I win, I’m definitely coming and eating my weight in food.”
“That hardly seems fair. You're a professional bowler,” I mumble, and he knows I’m not great. He’s seen me bowl before, and even with his help, I can’t ever compare to him.
Truett just shrugs, like this isn’t relevant information. He then holds out his hand to me. “So, what do you say? Want to challenge me, Ezra Jiménez? I can throw on my jersey.”
The way he says my name sounds like a song. One I want to hear over and over again, but in a different setting. My body reacts on its own accord, and before I know it, I reach out and take his hand, despite the hesitation I still feel.
“I accept,” I finally say, throwing caution to the wind.