Chapter Twenty-One
Dane sawed into a meaty omelet across from me, the cheap plastic table jiggling a little under the weight of his pressure. Since we were in Vermont, home of the crunchy granola type people, it had been interesting tracking down a greasy diner for breakfast. About 20 minutes from our motel was Babe’s Diner, which held on to the rooster-themed kitchens of the 90s. A woman, I assumed Babe, donned compression socks, Keds, and a lumpy green sweater hanging off her as she shuffled around, pouring coffee.
“Refill?” she asked.
“Might as well,” Dane and I said in unison, snapping our heads to gawk at each other the second it happened.
Babe chuckled while pouring. “How long have you guys been together?”
“Feels like lifetimes,” Dane said with a wink, knowing it would make me both blush and suppress an eyeroll.
“You guys are sure cute together. It’s fun to see a couple laughing and actually talking. Most people just sit across from each other on their phones.” She flashed a knowing glance at me, relaying girl, he’s a keeper.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Are we paying together or separately?”
“Together,” Dane answered before I could.
Once Babe was out of sight, I leaned forward with an indignant huff. “For the love of God, let me pay for something.” Even though my credit card was at Tilly’s, I still had my debit card and some cash with me.
“No, that’s not how I roll,” he said flatly, turning his attention back to his omelet. He was wearing a charcoal shirt today, with a tiny Adidas logo over one of his pecs, the sleeves strained on his biceps. It must’ve been something he’d snagged for himself at the store. I was wearing the baggy shirt I’d slept in and my jeans from yesterday. It was too cold for the sundress. Wherever we ended up, I prayed it had a washing machine.
He had some mysterious plan which made me feel at ease but also anxious. A weird limbo only Dane had concocted in my body. On a very real level, I knew I was physically protected by him, but on another, I worried how this was all going to play out.
“Let’s play two truths and a lie,” I offered, trying to keep the energy light.
“Okay, you go first,” he said.
I drizzled more syrup on my plate. “Hmm, okay. I’ve never faked an orgasm. I’ve never been to New York. And Halloween is my favorite holiday.”
Dane tilted his head in consideration, pursing his lips. “Hmm, I can see you as a spooky person, so I bet Halloween is your favorite. And I’m sure you’ve been to New York, so I guess you’re lying about faking it.”
I made a buzzer noise in my throat. “Wrong!”
“Oh really? You’ve never faked it?” He brought his coffee up to his lips for a sip.
“Nope, I don’t believe in participation trophies for penetration.”
He damn near choked on his coffee, fighting to not spray me in the face with it. “Dear god, woman! Warn me!”
I wiggled in my seat, pleased my zinger had landed. I liked shocking people, especially him. “I’ve never been to New York. Your turn.”
“Let’s see. My last meal would be tacos, I’m scared of clowns, and my parents almost named me Jeremy.”
“I feel like the taco thing is a lie.”
“You’re right. My last meal would be meatloaf with mashed potatoes.”
“Meatloaf?”
“I’m a simple man. What would be your last meal?”
I wanted to tease him some more for earnestly picking meatloaf but decided to move on. “Easy. A crawfish boil from H-E-B and a cold Big Red.”
“What’s H-E-B?”
“It’s like a grocery store down in Texas, but better. You really need to experience it in person to understand it. In the summers, they have vendors out front that make tamales and other treats, but the crawfish boils are heavenly. They have corn and potatoes along with the crawfish, and it’s always super spicy. They sell it in this bag that you dump out on the table, and you get to dig into it like some barbarian. It’s so satisfying. I dream of it.”
He gave me a lopsided smile. “And a Big Red?”
“It’s an upgraded cream soda.”
“Even better than your beloved Diet Coke?”
“Hands down.”
“Good to know. Speaking of food, I think this is delicious” he said, pointing to his plate with his fork.
“Places like this are underrated.”
“I have this idea ‘bout combining somewhere to eat with a shop for oil changes.”
I delicately bit into a piece of bacon. “Tell me more.”
“Everyone who drops off their car to me usually walks over to Tilly’s Tavern to wait until I have news for them. Sometimes, the women go get their nails or hair done at the salon. So I’ve always thought I could use that pattern in behavior and create a novelty experience.”
“Like ‘hey, get your oil changed and a manicure’ kinda thing?”
“Exactly. Or a haircut. As a dude, I have to get a haircut like every three weeks. It’s a bitch. But if you combine two errands, it’s almost like you’re doing a favor for them.” He took a sip of his coffee with a squint. “But you need a haircut more often than an oil change, so I never figured out how to tackle that problem.”
“But you do need to eat every day, so that would be an easier sell.” I drummed my fingers on my lip in consideration. “Fill’er up!” I exclaimed, pointing my finger in the air.
“Huh?”
“You know, when people talk about filling up a tank with fuel, they say, ‘fill her up’. Fill’er up. You fill up yourself with food, and you fill up the car with oil and whatever windshield fluid thingies you sell people on.”
He gulped and grinned. “You don’t know jack shit about cars, do you?”
“Nope! Good thing I’m getting frisky with a mechanic.”
That made him wiggle his eyebrows and chomp a piece of sausage off his fork. “Fill’er up.” He nodded. “I like it. You could serve burgers, milkshakes, onion rings. You know, play into that whole retro Americana thing.”
“Right, like that mural on the side of your shop,” I said, dragging a chunk of my French toast through syrup before taking a bite.
On the exposed exterior wall visible from Main Street, there was a cool vintage-looking mural that had a bunch of muscle cars parked at a drive-in movie. It was a fucking masterpiece. I could only imagine Dane had a touch of nostalgia by requesting it.
“Do you know who painted that?” he asked.
“No, who?”
“Carson,” he said with a pained groan and another bite.
“The guy’s fucking scary. I’ve gotten one word out of him.” I held up a finger. “One!”
“Well, you did compare him and Harley to Burt and Earnie from Sesame Street at the stag party.”
We both threw our heads back in laughter, achieving side-eyes from others in the diner.
“I was so hammered. I barely remember that!” Gaining composure, I asked, “Where’s the lie?”
He pointed to his face with his fork. “It’s the brows, right? So fucking serious.” Squaring his shoulders with a glance out the window, he went on, “But I feel bad. I kind of ruined his life.”
“Kind of?”
“I spread rumors that he kills whatever woman he loves.”
I damn near gagged on my food. Kaylee had never told me this much dirt about Rosie and Carson. She’d known I hadn’t wanted to hear about Rosie because I hadn’t had a good feeling about her. But now I had to know. “Jesus Christ, why would you say that?”
“He was dating my sister when she died. I accused him of not watching out for her. I was barely out of high school and away from Pine Bluff when it happened. I blamed him for her death. It was just easier to project on him, I guess.” He shifted in his seat. “I’m not saying it’s okay. I guess I just didn’t know where to direct my rage. Then my dad died a couple years later, and I just felt more alone.”
“Anyone would.”
“Anyways, my big mouth kinda ruined his reputation in town for a while. I told everyone he was responsible for killing Jamie, and then the other girl him and Harley dated had that freak accident and passed away, which really fueled my theory. It was immature, but he always treated me like a stupid kid, so it was my way to push back.”
“Did you apologize?”
“As best I could. I helped him out when everything went down with the Rosie nightmare. Even pushed Boyd away because his dumbass was trying to arrest Carson. I’ll never forget the fear in Carson’s face when I drove them away from town to save her.”
Horror whipped through my nerves at the mention of Boyd.
“Anyways, I think Carson and I are good now. I apologized in front of the whole town, owned up to my bullshit.” His wide shoulders lifted as he cut into his omelet once more. “We’re back to tolerating each other.”
Distracting both of us, I pivoted to the next question on my mind. “Why were you away from Pine Bluff when your sister died? Did you go to college or something?”
He straightened, sitting back from the table. “Uh, nah, college isn’t really my thing. I’m more street smart than book smart. I’ve been reading more though. I’ve been getting really into Westerns. I’m sure you’re sick of people glamorizing the West, huh?”
He was definitely avoiding my question, but I guessed I’d let him.
“You’re not going to believe me, but my mom and dad met at a rodeo,” I offered.
“No shit?”
“She was a buckle bunny, fucked her way through the rodeo circuit. Said there wasn’t much else to do in Texas back in the day. What’s weird is she still romanticizes what happened with my dad. She gets this wistful look in her eyes and goes off about how he was some handsome cowboy from Mexico. She knew just enough Spanish to flirt with him. I guess body language did the rest. I was conceived in some crummy hotel off I-35 just outside of Austin. Glamorous, huh?”
“One time is all it takes.”
“Yep.”
“So then what?” he asked.
“That was it. She didn’t even get his last name or phone number. He was gone when she woke up. She was 23 years old, and all that Baptist guilt made her go forward with the pregnancy.” I made a sweeping gesture at myself with my fork. “And here I am, 30 years later! The beautiful mistake.”
Dane almost cringed at my statement, not letting my self-deprecation lighten the mood. “You’re beautiful, and you’re not a mistake.”
I lifted a single shoulder. “If you say so.”
“I’m sure your dad would’ve been involved if he knew about you. Did you ever do one of those DNA tests to find him?”
“All the DNA in the world couldn’t convince me I was wanted.”
His brows furrowed in silence.
“My mom made it very clear she wanted more of my dad, less of me. He was the one that got away, and seeing my face every day reminded her of that.”
“So you’re half Latina?”
“Yep, for all I know. My mom is white. I think that was also part of the problem. My grandparents are racists pieces of shit. So not only was I a lovechild, but I was also somehow even less desirable because I wasn’t this pristine white baby born into wedlock like my grandparents would’ve liked.”
“That’s disgusting,” Dane said vehemently.
“Yeah, my mom has two sisters, and they both got married and had babies. All my other cousins are white. I was the outlier. And they’ll never admit it, but they treated me differently. I got more hand-me-downs and the worst seat at family dinners. My grandpa wouldn’t put me on his lap, and my grandma didn’t give me any heirlooms when I eloped. Things like that.”
“So you’ve always felt like an outsider?”
“A little bit, in my family at least. I’ve always had friends. I knew I had to patchwork my own community. I had a softball coach that really showed up for me in middle school.” I felt a smile tug at my face. “And things got a lot easier once I met Kaylee. She was also a misfit.”
“I remember you telling me about living with her grandma while you guys went to college in Florida. That’s so random but wholesome.”
I’d told him that clear back in September when we’d first met. He remembered, which was flattering.
“Did I ever mention my mom hates Kaylee? I find it funny. I went no contact with her after my divorce. I haven’t regretted it.”
“What was the final straw?”
I leaned forward conspiratorially. “I had an abortion.”
His eyes shot wide for a second.
“Listen, my ex was trying to trap me with a baby. I had my reasons.”
He leaned forward, too, joining me. “I respect your choice. I just wasn’t expecting that. What did he do?”
I looked around the diner, ensuring we were mostly alone. The next group of patrons were three booths over, so I felt safe to continue. “He stealthed me.”
His eyes danced upward as he searched his memory. “I don’t think I’ve heard of that.”
“When I wasn’t looking, he slipped the condom off. All stealthily. He didn’t even admit it until a month later.”
“As in . . .”
“I was late.”
His nostrils flared ever so slightly. “Maisie, that’s rape.”
“I know.” All I could do was let out a sad laugh. “He didn’t see it that way. He acted like the second we got married, he gained access to my body, like he owned me or something. He would bitch and moan about wearing condoms. I remember he would whine, ‘What’s the perk of getting hitched if I don’t get to fuck you raw?’ Like the marriage certificate canceled out my autonomy. Plus, I really needed condoms as a backup plan because I was trying out all different kinds of birth control medication, thinking they were making me sick, when really it was my breast implants.”
He leaned in even farther, his tone nothing short of fervent. “Even if you were into the whole sex part, doing that without you knowing is wrong. You know that, right? He took the choice away from you.”
“I know. At the time, I beat myself up for not catching it. I showered right after so I really couldn’t tell.” I fought a panicked sensation, recalling the dreaded moment I’d taken a pregnancy test alone and almost blacked out.
He grabbed my hand. “You trusted someone who you thought loved you. You were in a very vulnerable situation. There’s no reason that should’ve even been on your mind.”
I blinked back unexpected tears. “Yeah, I know.”
“He sounds like a real dick.”
“He was. When I told him what I was doing, he called me a whore and wouldn’t even go with me to the doctor. Thank God for Kaylee. She went with me, let me stay at her place. Her mom, who is a nurse, checked in on me and brought me food and flowers. I was just so mad that my own husband wasn’t there for me. I couldn’t stop thinking about how he directly caused me all that pain. He made the choice, but I suffered the consequences.”
“It’s not fair. I’m so sorry.” He squeezed my hand.
I looked down at my fork covered in syrup, recalling that entire cloud of time. “A couple days later, when Kaylee knew he was going to be at the ranch all day, she pulled up with an ice-cold Diet Coke for me along with a U-Haul and some of the high school football players she’d roped into helping. Within a matter of hours, she moved me out and into her place, no questions asked.”
“Moose killer knows how to move without notice. I’ve seen it in action.” We both chuckled, thinking about Kaylee and her loose cannon antics. “So that’s when you filed for divorce?”
“Yeah, that was the final straw for me. I told my mom what happened, and she picked his side, called me an abomination. I hung up on her, never looked back. It’s been almost three years. I wouldn’t reserve the word cunt for that many women, but I will say with my full chest that my mom is a fucking cunt .”
Dane nodded. “I mean, even if she didn’t agree with your choice, she had to know that living with a man like that wasn’t safe for you, let alone a child.”
I squeezed his hand one more time before pulling away to sit back up. “Anyways, now that you know all my trauma, would you like to get the check?”
“Mm-hmm,” he said, pulling out his wallet. “And Maisie . . .”
“Yeah?”
“This doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
“I’m glad.”
After he threw a couple of bills on the table, he stood up and knocked on it.
“Why do you do that?” I asked in mild amusement.
He looked at the table in confusion. “Do what?”
“Knock on the table. You did that at the rehearsal dinner as well. Each time you’re done with your meal, you knock on the table when you stand up to leave.”
His lips twitched so quickly, I barely caught it, but I was so obsessed with him that I noticed everything at this point. “Guess it’s subconscious.” He placed his hand on my lower back as we walked out. “How do you feel about cheesy roadside attractions?”