“Is that him over there?” She quietly asked, pointing out Dalton. Of course he stood out, dressed as nicely as he was.
“Yeah, that’s him alright,” I replied with some regret. “What, do you want me to get his number for you?”
“Oh my god, could you?”
She looked absolutely ecstatic over the idea. Luckily, before I could respond, Arnold appeared in the distance, waving both of us over.
“Beth, I’m going to need you to be more attentive to the guests, and not specific ones,” he admonished her. “And you… stop distracting my employees, Clara.”
We both apologized profusely.
Our boss sent her away but kept me near. “It’s fortuitous that I see you here, because I’ve been meaning to reach out to you. I couldn’t help but notice that you failed to indicate any premier call shifts.”
“I’m sorry, there was a distraction that night, with the wedding and all that…”
“Perfectly acceptable, given the circumstances,” he replied nonchalantly. “But if you wish to retain those privileges, you’re going to have to take them a little more seriously. I was under the impression that you were happy to be given that status. Did I make a mistake?”
“No, not at all!” I reassured him. “I’m sorry, Arnold. You’ll forgive me for being a little, you know, preoccupied with the arrangements here.”
He glanced around, unimpressed.
Of course he was unimpressed. Arnold was used to catering large wedding receptions, football games, banquets, and hotel galas… not little rinky-dink, makeshift post-marriage document reunions.
“See to it that you do not become unreliable,” he replied quietly before banishing me from his side. “I have work to do. I’ll see you tomorrow night at Prince Hall.”
“Prince Hall?”
Arnold raised an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah! Prince Hall!” It was one of the shifts I’d picked up. Thanks to missing my chances both Saturday night and early Sunday morning, I’d lost the opportunity to snag anything meaningful in the week. Joining the six-member crew working at Prince Hall for Wednesday and Thursday had been pretty much the only decent shifts left.
I just hoped my homework wouldn’t be too bad with my time eaten up like that.
Arnold looked at me sourly as I left, apparently unconvinced in my commitment to his catering and serving team. Today has just been a complete pain in my ass, I thought to myself.
At least Dalton caught the hint and left me alone after my quick little retort outside the front door. He stayed out there a while – long enough to make me wonder how much I’d affected him.
A sneak peak out the window earlier in the reception had shown me that he was talking to his grandparents before they came inside, so I felt assured.
I knew that he wanted things to continue between us. That much was obvious from just the way he looked at me, although the texts really underlined the point.
Luckily, between family and friends coming by to join the festivities, the catering staff making polite conversation during small lulls, and Dalton’s clearly intentional distance.
I wondered all night if I’d made the wrong choice after all.
It was true. I couldn’t deny the energy that I felt, crackling between us any time we were close. When our parents were giving their vows and we couldn’t take my eyes off of each other, I was imagining doing the same thing with him one day.
Such a stupid thought.
No, I needed to focus on what was important. Dalton and I were stepbrother and stepsister now, and although the taboo was sort of artificial – we weren’t related, after all – there was still the sort of lingering wrongness to it.
What we had done together the other night had been absolutely magical, and I wouldn’t trade it away for a single thing.
But it had been just that:
Wrong.
Yet… it felt so absolutely right.
After a couple of hours, it was time that we went our separate ways. I was halfway expecting a small string of text messages from him. Almost disappointingly, he had obeyed my wishes.
So, why was I unhappy about that?
I climbed into my ancient car and turned the ignition. To my complete lack of surprise, the engine failed to roll over, so I tried it again.
And again.
And again.
“Come on, now. Don’t do this to me.”
The ignition continued to do nothing. I muttered obscenities under my breath and tried it one more time, putting every little ounce of magic in my body behind it…
Nothing.
My car had apparently broken down, stranding me here at this awful place, with both the parents who had inadvertently ruined my love life, and the lover whom I could never have.
Well, this is just fucking fantastic.
“You’re having engine issues again, aren’t you?” Dalton asked, almost aloofly.
“Yeah,” I groaned, climbing out of the cabin.
“Want me to take a look?”
“Only if you can be bothered.”
Dalton reached inside, popped open the hood, and took a look at the engine. He came back around and tried the ignition again, then checked some of my fluids.
“Hmm. I can’t really tell what’s going on with this. Maybe it’s just old age by now. Listen, do you have a reliable mechanic?”
I groaned. “I have neither that, nor the money to replace this stupid thing, or anything that breaks on it. This is just my fucking luck.”
“Well, when’s the last time you took this thing for an oil change? A tune-up?”
“I don’t remember. Ages ago.”
“Wait, you’ve been skipping oil changes?”
“Hey, don’t give me the third degree here,” I grumbled. “So what if I missed a few of them? They’re optional, anyway.”
Dalton closed the hood and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thinking that oil changes are optional is exactly what got you into this mess,” he told me in exasperation. “No wonder this thing’s giving you trouble. You’ve probably totally fucked the engine up.”
“Well, that’s just perfect,” I threw my hands up in disgust. “I rely on this thing to get home, to get to work… what the fuck am I going to do now? This piece of junk car is all I had left!”
“Listen, this might be salvageable. I know a guy in town who works at a reputable auto shop. I can have this towed there, and you can assess the damage after he takes a look. Sound good?”
“Do you remember the bit where I don’t have any money?” I reminded him tersely.
“Forget about the money. It’s on me.”
“Oh, no it’s fucking not.”
He flashed me an angry look. “Clara. You can suck up whatever bullshit is running through your head, accept my help, and get back on your feet… or you can cling to your pride and watch your life crumble around you.
“Personally? It’s your choice.”
I was livid, but he was right.
“You know what? Fine.”
“Fine is not how you convince me to shell out for towing fees and an estimate on repairs,” Dalton told me, crossing his arms angrily.
“…Would you please help me?” I relinquished.
“Of course,” he replied, letting his crossed arms sag against his chest. “I’ll make a couple of calls now, and get you set up.”
“Alright,” I nodded. “And… thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” he shrugged.
With that, he stepped aside and pulled out his phone. I decided to venture back towards the festivities, pretending to have changed my mind from a “lack of plans.”
About twenty minutes after I’d rejoined the group of people, Dalton pulled me aside with the good news.
“Tow truck’s on the way. Your car’s being left in good hands. It’s late on a Tuesday, so you’re going to have to wait until later tomorrow afternoon to find out the damage.”
“But… what about school?” I muttered. “How the fuck a
m I supposed to get to school like this? And I’ve already signed up for banquet shifts, out of town…”
“You’ll need to consider cancelling those,” he answered. “No telling what the consensus will be, thanks to your maintenance plan… or lack thereof. But I can get you to school and back.”
“With what, your motorcycle?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged. “I keep a spare helmet around that’ll probably fit you. We have the same first-hour class anyway. How late in the day do you stay?”
“Until about 4 o’clock.”