Chapter 39
The traffic from downtown Dallas to Grand Prairie, Texas, was unusually light for this hour of the morning. Dallas hoped that was some sort of foreshadowing of how this might play out for him. Who was he trying to kid? No way his parents were going to be anything other than pissed off.
He nervously gripped the steering wheel of his old Camry a little tighter than necessary as he forced measured breaths from his lungs to keep from hyperventilating. He took the curve onto his parents’ street and let go of a steadying exhale as he pulled to the curb in front of their house.
Dallas hadn’t yet told his parents about his new car. They’d think it was flashy and unnecessary, a waste of perfectly good money. Looking for two approvals in one day might be pressing his luck. Dallas flipped down the visor, checked his hair in the tiny mirror, then stared himself in the eyes.
He was nervous.
What did he hope would happen?
Maybe that should have been his running mantra for the ride over instead so he could rein in any good karma he may have earned over the course of his life.
Honestly, he didn’t know what he wanted. He wasn’t the same man he used to be. The idea of putting himself last and living by everyone else’s rules was no longer an option.
Those were hard lines for him. No compromise.
His confidence built, but it honestly wasn’t that shaky to begin with. He no longer sought his parents’ approval. Especially his father’s. He wanted to be viewed as his own man. One living his own life, asking nothing from anyone.
He also wanted to be respectful and be respected in return.
The beep on his cell phone drew his attention down to the console. With a flip of the hand, he closed the visor then picked up the phone. Greer had sent a message.
“I’m sending you all my good thoughts. Call me when you’re done.”
Dallas pushed call in lieu of sending a return text and reached for the door handle, pushing open the car door.
“Hello.” Greer sounded pleasant yet unsure which brought a smile to Dallas.
“Before I rock my parents’ world, are you sure you don’t have plans to leave me at the altar?” Dallas asked teasingly, putting a foot on the pavement while taking in the clear fresh morning air and almost cloudless sky. What a beautiful day. That had to mean something.
“Not on your life. I’m not sure I can be any more certain. You’re the one for me,” Greer drawled in that fun way he had.
“Hmm.” Dallas’s gaze cut back through the window toward the small house. The opposition to his complete happiness sat like a heavy cloud over his childhood home.
The insecurity was back in waves.
“Let’s see. No, we’re not rushing it. Of course, I really love you. Yes, you’re the perfect man for me. Did I hit any of the doubts you’re suddenly having?”
“Maybe,” Dallas said, getting to his feet. Greer did make him stronger.
“You should have let me come with you. Or better, sent our parents a joint email on Sunday morning.” Greer chuckled. “We could have done a group message so they could all get to know one another.”
“I’m telling them more than we’re getting married. This is my official coming out. I need to do it in person.” Dallas took slow strides around the hood of the car to the curb of the sidewalk.
“There are no rules that say you need to do this face to face. Get in your car, come back home, and we’ll do it together the coward’s way.”
Dallas lifted a foot to the curb with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips when his parents’ front door burst open.
“Andy! Don’t do this!”
Dallas’s gaze jerked to his angry father barreling forward with a newspaper in hand. His father looked tired, but that was the third shift wearing on his face. The anger though was a surprise.
“What the fuck is this?” his father bellowed.
Dallas lowered the phone and stopped dead in his tracks. He could feel a sick calm descending over him. His normal defense mechanisms shielding him from his irate father stalking toward him.
“Dallas, just go,” his mother yelled, holding her robe closed as she ran after his father. “Give us time, honey.”
“Time for what?” Dallas asked, refusing to take the small step backward as his father charged at him.
“Dammit, I knew it.”
Dallas braced for a slap or a punch when his father hurled the newspaper at him. It wasn’t the small bundle that Dallas thought when he started to duck. Instead it was one page that fluttered in his face. Dallas caught it with his free hand but never took his eyes off his father.
“You make me a goddamn laughingstock.” His father’s hand flew out, missing Dallas by a few inches as he cast a menacing glare over his shoulder at his mother. “I told you he needed something stricter. We’re not standing for this. I’m not standing for this.”