Chapter 14 #2
The mullet-dipshit turned a snarl on the dad who was standing protectively between a little girl with blond hair who was the spitting image of the woman holding her hand with an equally angry expression as the dad.
To my surprise, it was the young woman tucked under mullet-dipshit’s arm, wearing cut-off shorts and a crop top, that spoke up.
“You got a problem with profanity, old man? You should have a problem with a pair of faggots getting freaky in front of your baby girl.”
The little girl looked up at her mom with obvious questions in her eyes, and the mom pulled her closer.
Meanwhile, I was trying to determine the best course of deescalation.
This was a confined space, and things could get out of hand quickly.
Clearly the young idiot had no problem throwing down, judging by the poorly concealed hunting knife hanging from his belt.
The dad looked about ready to punch a hole through the guy’s head.
And Marc… I sighed inwardly. Marc looked as if he were debating how quickly he could retrieve the sledgehammer from the flower shop.
Before I could decide on a course of action, though, the dad crossed his arms, exuding confidence and a strong sense of FAFO.
“Profanity is not my issue. Fucking ignorant bigots with disgusting habits are. And if you so much as glance at my baby girl again, you’re going to learn what I do for a living, and I promise you’ll regret it. ”
Doubt flickered in the hick’s eyes, and he tightened his hold on his girlfriend.
“Come on, Sadie, let’s get outta here. Apparently Pete’s isn’t the upstanding joint it used to be.
” He went to spit what I now realized was tobacco again, then seemed to think better of it when he saw the dad watching him.
Once the pair were gone, the dad scuffed some dirt and debris over the brown stain on the walkway and nodded to the mom, who then released the little girl’s hand.
With a squeal of joy, the little girl raced to the center of the courtyard, where a large fountain burbled happily.
Calling for her to slow down and muttering about skinned knees and torn dresses, the mom went after her.
Chuckling to himself at the kid’s antics, Marc looked over at me, and I was relieved to see that he hadn’t let the altercation keep him down.
I nodded for him to go on ahead. He looked puzzled, but shrugged and followed the pair toward the fountain.
I cleared my throat and turned to the dad as we made our way toward them at a much slower pace, though it seemed the little girl had already finished with the fountain and was ready to keep exploring. “Thanks for that. You didn’t have to.”
“Of course I did.” He looked at me with surprise.
“It’s people who stand by and do nothing who are the ones that make punks like that think they can say or do whatever they want.
Hell, I’m already sick to my stomach about what my little Rumi is going to have to deal with when she gets older.
It’s part of why I’m fighting so hard for her now. ”
“I know what you mean.” I thought about how hard my little sister Savannah had to fight for the same recognition as her male peers, who weren’t half as talented or intelligent. “It’s disgraceful how women are treated.”
He nodded knowingly. “Especially trans women.” I blinked, and he chuckled. “Didn’t see that coming, did you?”
“I did not. Not that it’s any of my business, but I've gotta ask.” He turned a skeptical look on me, and I gave him a wide grin. “What do you do for a living?” He laughed loud enough that several patrons, as well as the rest of our party, turned to look at us.
“Walked right into that. I don’t really have a super intimidating job like I implied. I’m in construction.” He pulled out a card and passed it to me. “One of my favorite things about working for HowlStone Construction is how supportive they are of LGBTQ+ rights.”
“That’s pretty damn cool, Terrence,” I said, using the name from the card and extending a hand. “This says you’re local?” I eyed his shirt dubiously.
He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah. Rumi picked it, and I can’t seem to say no to her for anything.”
“There are worse problems to have.”
“Like a mullet and breath that smells like you haven’t brushed in the last decade?” We laughed, then he tilted his head and said, “I didn’t get your name.”
“Sorry. James Gallagher, but everyone calls me JD. And my buddy is Marc Weathers.”
“Just buddy, huh? Didn’t look like that to me,” he said with a conspiratorial wink.
I huffed a laugh and ducked my head. “I’m working on it. Just maybe don’t say anything to him? It’s… complicated.”
He held up his hands. “Say no more.” Further ahead, there was another squeal of excitement followed by yet another request for Rumi to slow down. “Oh dear, Merilee is going to have a conniption if Rumi rips another dress or worse ends up needing stitches for a busted knee.”
We picked up our leisurely pace and caught up to the three in time to see Rumi hopping up and down excitedly while pointing at flowers hanging down through a trellis hung overhead that looked like grapes. “What are these called, Mama?”
“I don’t know, Rumi. But they sure are pretty.”
Rumi pouted, all of her joy bundled into a big ball of disappointment with a quivering lip. “But I wanna know.”
“I’m sure we can figure it out together, baby girl,” Terrence said, stepping forward and taking out his phone.
“I can help. May I?” Marc gestured to Rumi, and I had to smother a laugh at the relief in Merilee’s eyes as she nodded.
He promptly squatted down to Rumi’s level and pointed up to the grape flowers.
“They are really pretty. They’re called wisteria.
Did you know that in Victorian England they were a symbol of romance, beauty, and devotion?
They also meant good luck,” he finished with a smile that took my breath away.
Rumi’s eyes sparkled, and she clutched her little hands to her chest as if Marc had just told her magic was real.
“Daddums, did you hear that? Can we grow some wisteria?” She gave Terrence the biggest puppy-dog eyes I’d ever seen in my life.
Marc huffed a “whoops” under his breath.
Merilee facepalmed in the background. And poor Terrence looked as if he’d been poleaxed.
I nudged his arm and held up his card. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure Marc gets in contact with you. We’re fixing up the flower shop on the other side of town. He can get you sorted.”
Merilee perked up. “Petunia’s Petals? Oh my God, I thought you looked familiar!
” she exclaimed, rounding on Marc. “My family and I used to go there all the time. I’m so glad it’s going to re-open and I’ll be able to share the experience with my daughter.
” She hugged Rumi to herself, while red suffused Marc’s face.
“Uh, yeah. There’s still a lot of work to be done.” He darted a glance toward me, and a smile flickered across his face. “But we’re getting there.”