Chapter 4 #3
Pumpkin knew from Sissy that Frankie was estranged from her parents.
They kicked her transgender brother out when he came out at sixteen.
Frankie had been twelve at the time, and never heard from her brother again.
She never forgave her parents, either, and left as soon as she graduated high school.
Even put herself through college. It was one of the reasons Sissy had brought Frankie to the VDMC when she started having problems with her boyfriend, rather than Frankie seeking out her parents’ help.
Pumpkin nodded sadly. “She would have loved being a grandma too.”
“How did she die?” she asked softly.
“Drunk driver hit the city bus she was on.” His heart ached and he had a hard time breathing for a moment. “I was overseas when I got the news.”
“I’m sorry.”
Pumpkin shrugged. “Tried to convince her to buy a car. Told her that I had money now, she didn’t need to work, but the woman was set in her ways.
Took a long time to stop blaming myself.
I kept thinking that if I’d pushed her harder, or if I had been there, I could have saved her.
But she had the right to choose. At the end of the day, free will is a blessing and a curse. ”
Frankie turned on the road that would lead them to the steakhouse. “It is that.”
Pumpkin cleared his throat and quickly wiped at his eyes. “Anyway, on to a happier topic, think I can eat that sixty-four ounce steak they have that challenge for?”
Frankie laughed. “God, no! You do realize, you have to eat all the sides too, right?”
Pumpkin ran a hand down his flat, muscular belly. “Hell yeah! Although,” he added pointedly, “I’m not wearing the right pants for this. Would you judge me if I rode home pants-less?”
Frankie pulled into the parking lot and quickly found a spot. “Definitely,” she smiled at him after throwing the vehicle into Park. “And even more so when you throw up and I get to say, ‘I told you so’.”
Pumpkin made a face. “You’re no fun,” he grumbled, though he thought perhaps she had a point.
What the fuck had Calliope been thinking? Had she lost her ever loving mind ? Dosia had never, ever doubted her aunt before, but man, was she going to be looking up the nearest loony bins for her later. If she survived this god-awful date.
Bart the Banker was actually Bart ley the Banker. And he made sure Dosia knew it. When he’d come to her grandparents’ to pick her up, she’d put her hand out to greet him with a smile, saying, “It’s nice to meet you, Bart.”
To which, he’d stuck his nose up at her as he shook her hand and proclaimed his name was Bart ley before going into a five minute long rant about how ‘Bart ley ’ was more distinguished than ‘Bart’.
Dosia was ready to call it quits right then and there, but Calliope had pulled her aside and told her that she needed to go.
Then in a mystical voice, she added, “The man who buys you dinner will win your hand in marriage and your heart for life… ” Before she cracked up laughing and walked into the other room.
Not happy about it, but trying her hardest to remember not to be such a pessimist, Dosia headed back over to Bart ley and let him guide her to his car.
Once seated, she asked where they were going.
Since he’d picked her up and Calliope knew him, she hadn’t taken the usual first-date precautions she had done in the past.
That was when Dosia discovered that Bart ley was taking her to a restaurant almost an hour away from her grandparents’ house.
She’d balked, saying that she needed to be back by eight-thirty to tuck her daughter into bed, but Bart ley assured her that she’d be back in time.
Apparently, he wasn’t planning on this being a very long date.
Which, honestly, after that fucking awkward car ride, Dosia was completely okay with.
Whenever she’d tried to start up a new topic of conversation, somehow Bart ley always managed to bring it back to the fact that he was a banker, made two-hundred and ten thousand dollars a year, and was in line for a promotion.
Every. Single. Fucking. Time.
Dosia had decided to order the most expensive meal on the menu. She didn’t care what it was. She was getting it and an entire bottle of their most expensive wine.
Because she didn’t have to pay for it. As the breadwinner in a relationship, Bart ley had made it very clear that a woman’s place was at home. No doubt, barefoot and pregnant, though he hadn’t said that.
Because Bart ley automatically assumed she wasn’t making two-hundred and ten thousand dollars a year. Which she wasn’t, but still… The assumption irked her.
The only reason Dosia hadn’t called an Uber for herself to take her home as soon as they’d arrived was for that free meal.
Petty? Most definitely. But who the fuck did Bart ley think he was?
So what if Dosia wasn’t bringing in six figures?
She’d done well for herself. She was a good mom and she lived within her means.
Would it have been nice if she had the money to upgrade her car? Absolutely, but it wasn’t like her car didn’t work. Other cars just worked better . And there was nothing wrong with putting her daughter’s needs above her own. Some might even consider that admirable.
And it wasn’t that Dosia minded the idea of a man she was dating earning more than she did.
It was the fact that there wasn’t a humble bone in Bart ley ’s body.
There was a difference between being chivalrous and being misogynistic, and Bart ley needed a new dictionary if he thought for one second he was being chivalrous.
Dosia was going to kill her aunt. She’d already sent her a text with the emojis for wood, rope, and fire. To which, Calliope had just laughed. What the fuck was she playing at?
“…country club? ”
Dosia jumped, realizing that she’d been half asleep while sitting back sipping her wine. “I’m sorry, what?”
Bart ley ’s right eye twitched, but he held onto his smile that was actually more of a sneer.
“I am playing golf tomorrow at my country club,” he told her with enough attitude for her to know he was repeating himself.
“The only reason we are not there tonight is because it’s closed on a Sunday and your niece said today was the only day you were available. ”
Clearly that annoyed him too.
“Aunt,” Dosia corrected automatically.
“Pardon?”
“Calliope’s my aunt, not my niece. She’s two years younger than me, and yes, I know how that sounds, but it’s true.”
Bart ley looked like that information was the least exciting thing he’d ever heard. Maybe she should try talking about how sand was formed, see if that interested him more. She certainly might find it more interesting.
The awkward silence was worse than the car ride. Dosia cleared her throat. “Um, sorry, tomorrow won’t work for me.” Or any day. She had no intention of going to a country club to watch this narcissistic jerk play golf.
She took a big gulp of her wine. Calliope, if you can hear me, I’m making witch’s stew tomorrow for lunch and you’re the main ingredient! Dosia thought as loud as she could into the cosmos.
“Yes, your, uh, bookstore. I’ve seen the records. Doesn’t bring in much revenue.”
Dosia stiffened. “Not everything’s about money, Bart . There’s such a thing as a love of reading.”
“Bart ley ,” he emphasized.
Dosia chugged back the remainder of her wine.
They hadn’t even ordered yet because Bart ley had insisted the server give them time to look at the menu.
Dosia had read it. In its entirety. Twice .
Frankly, Dosia was a bit surprised Bart ley would be caught dead in a place like this.
It didn’t seem fancy enough for his country-club standards.
“Look, Bart ley , let’s just have a nice meal and call it a night. I think we both made a mistake agreeing to this date. I honestly don’t know what Calliope was thinking.”
His manicured eyebrows drew downward. “I don’t understand.”
Really? Did he think this was going well ? “I just…” Dosia stumbled over the nicest way to say this. “I don’t think we’re compatible. Look, we can just eat and I’ll pay for my meal, you pay for yours, and we call it a night. Okay?”
He leaned across the table. “Are you fucking serious? You are dumping me ? I easily make five times as much as you. You’ll never do better than me. I was doing you a favor by taking you out tonight.”
By the end of his spiel, his voice had started to rise. Dosia’s eyes flitted about as she realized patrons around them were starting to turn and stare.
She straightened. She was not about to sit here and be ridiculed like being on a date with her was some sort of charity case.
She pulled out her phone to call for an Uber.
At least she had enough cash on her to cover the glass of wine she’d already had.
Thankfully the waiter hadn’t been back, so she hadn’t ordered anything else yet. Like the rest of the bottle.
Dosia went to walk around the table, but Bart ley grabbed her upper arm. “Where do you think you’re going?” he sneered, his grip tightening. “You wanted steak, I brought you to a fucking steakhouse. It’s not my fault it was over an hour away with traffic!”
Dosia had no idea what he was talking about. “Why would you think I wanted steak— Ow, you’re hurting me! Let go!”
“I will not be humiliated like this!”
Dosia opened her mouth to tell him that he was humiliating himself, not her, when suddenly his grip on her arm was gone.
Dosia jumped as Bart ley ’s upper body was slammed down onto the table, spilling his water glass and tonic water, knocking his utensils to the floor, and making her empty wine glass fall into the salt and pepper shakers. Thankfully it didn’t break.
“Not so tough, now, are you?” the man holding Bart ley down asked. He had his arm bent up behind his back, and though Bart ley fought, the man didn’t even appear to be straining to incapacitate him .
But Dosia wasn’t looking at Bart ley all that closely anymore. Her eyes widened and her breath hitched as she stood within mere feet of her daughter’s father for the first time in six years.
“Oh shit,” escaped her mouth.
At her voice, the man looked up and his brown eyes widened. She knew the moment he recognized her as his eyes traveled slowly up and down her body.
And then he gasped out, “ You! I fucking knew it! You are real!”