Crashing into Dane.

3

I didn't get any painting done on Thursday, no guess there. Those frigid freaks ruined my evening, and my mood.

It's Saturday. The last one of the month, Dad and I will barbecue tonight and I'm looking forward to it. My mind's going through the new recipes I saw last night on TV. I need to buy a case of beers. I'm playing with my braid, kicking my feet beneath the little stool.

I know my Saturday customers, Mrs. Mapanzura, the man from the corner store in town, a few Indian women. The mosque was not too far from the market, in the direction of town. They were few, but regular and they bought quite a lot.

I was going to close up early today, Dad didn't want me walking home after sunset with those men lurking about the streets. I let my customers know that I'd be unavailable at dusk.

Today I brought my phone. Mr. Michaels hasn't been in for a few days, he's out of town. I need to be reachable.

I'm reading a book on not being a wife to a boyfriend. I keep rolling my eyes at every single page. Its not my go-to genre, I prefer wild romances and thrillers, but the WiFi was cut off this month. This was the only thing in my phone available offline. Tipey was offline completely this holiday, she wouldn't be sending me anything soon.

Tipey is my one true friend. I hung out with a number of people at school, but she has always gotten me. She doesn't make me anxious or uncomfortable, and she's pretty determined to get to heaven, it brings out the gentleness in her abundantly, but her personality is loud and carefree.

I smile at myself like an idiot as I think about her. She is such an amazing person.

Its almost four in the evening, its unusual that Mrs. Mapanzura hasn't come to get her special order on cabbages, butternuts and asparagus. I wonder if something might have come up, maybe she got sick. Maybe she found a better offer somewhere else...maybe she just doesn't want to eat nature today.

I'll just finish off this chapter and pack up.

"Hello."

An unfamiliar but male voice.

I look up. He's not a pestering drunkard. He doesn't even smell bad. He has sparkling dark brown eyes, almost black.

I don't know how to react. He's looking straight at me.

"Hi."

I sit up straight and stop slouching. Damnit. The sun is in my eyes.

"Hi. What would you like to get?"

He's tall. So tall. Brilliant brown eyes. A piercing gaze.

My armpits are starting to itch.

He pierces into my eyes and smiles.

"My mom sent me to get her "special order"?" He lifts his hands and gestures the quote, then smiles.

Beautiful. Beautiful teeth. Dark gums. Dark hands, beautiful dark skin. Coffee.

"Your mom?" I repeat.

He nods.

"Oh yeah!"

I grab the little purple bags and put them in two big black bags.

"Here you go." I try to smile. But it's sheepish.

As I hand him the bags I feel his hands. Warm.... sweaty. He's nervous too. I look at him and ask.

"Will that be all?"

He nods.

I don't want to nod back, that would be awkwardly misplaced.

I nod back. Slowly with a little wrinkle on my chin, then I awkwardly smile back.

He turns and walks away, after resuming whatever music he'd been listening to in those earphones.

He's beautiful.
So, that's the son she brags about huh.

I think I'd brag too.

***

Dad's firing up the grill. It smells heavenly in the back yard.

"Hi Dad!" I rub the wetness from the beer bottles on my jeans and walk outside after placing them in the fridge.

"Hi Cher. How was your day?"
He rarely asks that if I'm not coming from school.

I slowly reply, "it was ...okay...." I narrow my eyes suspiciously at him.
"What's up?"

He raises his hands in surrender.

"Just asking."

"Mmmmhm. It was pretty normal. I told my people that I'll be closing up earlier for the rest of-" I pause mid-sentence.

Oh, snap. I didn't tell Dane to tell his mom.

"...the holiday. After this batch" I add quickly before he picks up anything.

"Well you're the suspicious one here. What's up?"

"Just didn't see some of my peeps." I grab a beer from the bucket, and peer onto the grill.

"Smells good daddio!"

I sit beside him on the little wooden bench. And notice a little box on the table.

"What's that?" I nod at the box.

"Open it." He can't hide his wide grin.

I look at him narrow eyed and open the little box.

A key.

I raise an eyebrow. A key to the truck!!!!

"Dad!" I exclaim wide eyed and grinning.

"Thank you! Thank you thank you! " I hug him tightly and take in his minty scent till he let's out a little whimper in pain.

The smile on his face doesn't wear off.

"I just thought, you'd like to visit the stadium without me one of these days, and also those street urchins won't get to bother you so much. I know you don't like the walks."

I look at him with absolute love, and appreciation, then it hits me.

Is he giving me the truck because he thinks he won't be around to take me to the stadium?

A sudden pout on my face, "Dad, are you giving me these because-" he raises his hand to my face.

"You're 19 now. I don't want you walking all over town, getting into people's cars. You're responsible. And you're too adventurous not to own a car." A little glint sparkling in his eyes.
"This is not a licence to go MIA. I just want to see you live your best."

Awww dad.

My cheeks heat up. My eyes tear up a little and I hug him again.

"Thank you, Dad. I love you" I whisper as I pull away and get up to flip the steaks.

Lord. He's super awesome. Please let him live.