Color of Forgiveness (19 page)

* * *

Myra looks at the unopened letter in her
hand. “Yes, I have your card, but I’m not going to open it,” she
says to Susie.

“What? You
have
to open it. I made it
especially for you. I’ll be completely offended if you don’t, and
I’ll hold a grudge against you for the rest of eternity.”

“Well, you’re going to have to hold a
grudge.”

“Ugh, you’re such a stick in the mud. Okay,
let me at least tell you about it. I worked really hard on it, and
I want you to appreciate my efforts.”

Myra rolls her eyes. “Fine…”

“Okay. I put ‘You Got Dicked’ in bright red
letters on the front of it and put a picture of a giant weenie
right in the middle. Then I put two pics of various sized wieners
on each side – one that was short and stumpy, one that was long and
I do mean
long…
and a couple that were just like
oh my
god, where did that thing come from
. Then on the inside of the
card I put something like:
Today is a day to celebrate. You got
dicked by Dylan’s Dick. May you continue to get dicked by Dylan’s
Dick daily. I love you and I’m horrifically jealous. Love, Your
Virtual Best Bud, Susie
.”

“I’m glad I didn’t open it,” Myra says with
a laugh, shocked that Susie has somehow managed to embarrass her
from two thousand miles away. “You’re completely crazy.”

“Ah, you’re no fun. So what happened with
the stalker stuff today? Did Dylan take you to the grocery store?
That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard of, by the way. I can’t
believe he wouldn’t let you go to the store by yourself. There is
something seriously hot about a guy getting all protective over his
woman like that. Did he kick that creepy dude’s ass again?”

“No, thankfully Derek wasn’t there. I’m glad
he wasn’t because Dylan was really amped up; I don’t know what he
would’ve done if he’d seen him. I think Dylan’s just overreacting
to the whole situation. He even changed all of the locks on my
doors today. I think it was probably just some kids that we
saw.”

“Well, I’m with Dylan on this one. Let him
be all caveman-like and protective of you; it’s better to be safe
than sorry.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“I still can’t believe that scruffy Greek
god hunkawunkaman replaced your sidewalk. Do you know what I find
to be really weird about the whole thing? Replacing a sidewalk is
completely and totally not a sexy thing for a man to do yet I find
it to be completely and incredibly sexy that he did that. But maybe
it’s only because I keep picturing him all sweaty and wearing that
sexy as heck tool belt while he lifted those heavy pieces of
concrete and flexed his fine muscles. I bet he had a little
plumber’s crack going on too. Normally, that would make me gag and
want to pluck my eyeballs out, but the thought of Dylan showing a
little ass crack?
Oh yeah
…” Susie says before cackling
loudly.

“Quit talking about him like he’s a piece of
meat.”

“I’d like to eat that meat,” Susie says in a
low voice.

“Susie!”

“Okay, okay. I’m just kidding,” she says
before giggling crazily. “I promise to not say anything perverted
about your hunky tool man for at least the next five minutes. Wow,
it feels so good to laugh again. I’ve been so down lately with
losing dad and especially after you told me Dylan’s story. Guess
what I decided to do to cheer myself up?”

“What?”

“I got back to plotting my revenge on Trent
the Turd for going through my purse. I’ve got a few minor details
to iron out, but hopefully project Torment the Trent will be
launched on Monday.”

“What are you going to do? Don’t do anything
that’s going to get you into trouble or put your job in
jeopardy.”

“Oh, no, I’m not sharing my secrets with you
just yet. You’ll find out all the gory details afterwards. Besides,
I’m just going to have a little bit of fun with him.”

“Don’t do anything crazy…”

Susie laughs. “I promise to keep it tame. Or
I’ll at least I’ll
try
to.”

“All right… well, I better get going. I need
to go see how Dylan’s doing. He decided to tear everything out of
the upstairs bathroom today except for the tub.”

“Okay. Call me later, hon.”

“I will.”

* * *

Dylan glances up one more time at Myra as
she stands in her doorway before he takes off down the street. She
asked him to stay and eat dinner with her, but he couldn’t because
he has to go see Elaina and stop by someone’s house to give them an
estimate on a job.

Pulling up in front of Elaina’s, he groans
as he gets out of his truck. He
has
to start seeing her more
often. His back hurts like hell. His phone rings and when he digs
it out of his pocket, he mutters, “
Fuck
,” under his breath
when he sees the caller ID.

He flips open his phone. “Yeah?”

“Why the hell didn’t you call me back?” Ray
yells.

“Jesus. I was busy today and forgot. Did you
get a look at that disposal?”

“Yeah, I had to change it out. You owe me
some money.”

“I know and I’ll pay you. Look, Myra’s
cabinets are in and I need another truck to help me pick them up.
Can you run to Boise with me on Monday?”

“Yeah, but it’s going to cost you.”

Dylan closes his eyes and rubs his
temple.

“What time?” Ray asks. “I can’t wait to see
Myra again.”

“Eight,” Dylan says through clenched teeth,
“… at my house.”

“See you then, girlfriend.”

Dylan flips his phone shut and shoves it
angrily into his pocket. Stepping into Elaina’s, he takes off his
coat and hangs it up just as she bustles in. “Dylan! How are you,
mi querido
?” she asks, grinning happily as she picks up her
glasses that are hanging from a chain around her neck and slips
them on.

“Not good.”

“Oh, I don’t like hearing that. Come on in
and let’s take a look. You can leave your shirt on. What’s your
pain level today?”

Dylan grimaces when he lies down on the
table. “Probably a seven… nah, closer to an eight.”

“Oh, that is definitely not good. Have you
been doing your exercises?”

“Yeah, but I tore out a bathroom today. And
that damn airplane just about killed me.”

“I can only imagine. I would say don’t tear
out any more bathrooms, but considering your profession, I don’t
think that would be such wise advice. Were you at least able to get
up and move around the cabin during your flight?”

Dylan snorts. “No. There’s not much room to
move around on those damn things.”

“True. But next time try to get up and
stretch your back out as often as you can even if all you do is
walk to the back of the airplane. Any movement will help.

“Your back is definitely a mess. I’ll get
you re-aligned, and then we’ll do the heat and ice treatment at the
end,” she says as she presses her elbow into his back.

Dylan groans, his eyes rolling into the back
of his head.

“So where did you go on your trip?” she
asks.

“Philadelphia.”

“For business…?”

“I went there to see a… friend.”

“Oh. Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah...”

“That’s nice. Was it a lady friend?”

“Uh, yeah...”

“That’s even better,” Elaina says.

The conversation goes quiet, and Dylan
begins to think about his ‘lady friend’. He starts to panic when he
realizes he still hasn’t come up with anything to do for their date
tomorrow night. He
has
to come up with something. Maybe
Elaina would know. She is a woman after all.

He clears his throat. “I have this friend
who’s gonna take this woman out, on a date. But there’s nothing to
do here in Nyssa. What do you think he should do?”

“A date…? Oh,
mi querido
, a date only
needs to come from the heart. A man doesn’t have to spend lots of
money on a woman or take her somewhere fancy. My Luis…? God rest
his soul. Our first date was a picnic in a park under a sprawling
oak tree. I fell in love with my Luis that day. Tell your friend
that all he needs to do is follow his heart and make his lady
friend feel special, and he’ll do just fine.”

Dylan’s brows furrow as he thinks about her
words. He has some work to do.

* * *

After stopping by some old guy’s house to
give him an estimate to add a deck onto his house, Dylan drops by
Marshall’s to pick up a few things for his date. He hopes like hell
he runs into that asshole. He was incredibly disappointed when he
took Myra earlier in the day and he wasn’t there.

Standing in the frozen food section of the
store, he groans. Since there isn’t anywhere decent to take Myra in
Nyssa and he doesn’t want to drive all the way to Boise, he’s just
decided to have her over to his house for dinner. But he can’t cook
so he’ll have to find some kind of pre-made meal that he can throw
in the oven. Nothing looks even remotely good. But then his eyes
land on a box of frozen lasagna. Surely he can’t fuck that up. He
grabs one along with a loaf of frozen garlic bread to go with
it.

After loading his cart with the remainder of
the items he needs for his date, he heads for the checkout. He’s
been on the constant look-out for Marshall, but so far, he hasn’t
seen the fucker. When he gets to the cash register, he cringes.

“Hi, Dylan,” Lucia says in a nasally voice.
She bats her thickly mascaraed eyelashes at him, trying to look
seductive. He ignores her.

“Where’s Marshall?” he asks gruffly.

“He’s not here. He told me what happened,
about how Myra came onto him and that you showed up and got all
jealous and hit him. Derek and I have an open relationship, but I
don’t want Myra anywhere near my husband. You tell her to stay away
from him and that I have my eye on her.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
Have you been following her?”

“Following her? Of course not, I’m just
saying that she needs to watch herself.”

Dylan’s eyes narrow as he leans closer to
her. “Don’t you dare threaten her,” he says in a low and menacing
voice. “That fucker you have for a husband put his hands on Myra.
Against. Her. Will. You tell him that if he ever gets near her
again, he’ll be spending a month in the hospital after I’m done
with him. And
you
stay the hell away from her as well.”

“Whatever…” Lucia mumbles, rolling her
eyes.

Dylan’s blood boils as he puts his groceries
in his truck. Maybe Marshall isn’t the one he should be focusing.
Maybe it’s his wife. But no matter what, he still needs to have a
little talk with Marshall… and soon.

* * *

Myra checks her reflection one last time in
the mirror surprised at how anxious she feels about this date.
Tonight feels significant somehow, like it’s a fresh start for the
both of them. She frowns as she stares at her outfit. Dylan told
her to dress casually so she chose a pair of jeans and a brown
cashmere sweater. She hopes he likes it. She also put on a little
makeup and even curled her hair. Her stomach does an excited little
flip when she hears a knock on the door.

With a smile on her face, she flings open
the door, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of him.
She doesn’t understand how he can make something so casual – a
white V-neck T, jeans and a brown leather jacket – look so
unbelievably sexy. His attractiveness leaves her a little
staggered.

“You look…” he says, a half-grin on his lips
as his eyes slowly trail up and down her body, “… so fucking
beautiful.”

She smiles shyly at him. “Thank you… so do
you,” she says before shaking her head. “I mean, not beautiful.
Handsome.”

He grins. “You ready?”

“Yeah, let me grab my bag and coat.” She
can’t stop smiling when he helps her put her coat on.

His hand stays on the small of her back as
he walks her out to his truck. He opens the door and helps her up
into it.

“Thanks,” she says softly.

He grins at her before closing the door.
Quickly walking around the truck, he climbs in. He starts it then
clears his throat and looks at her. “I thought we’d just go to my
house to eat. Is that okay?” he asks, looking nervous.

“That sounds perfect.”

Other than the radio playing softly in the
background, the short ride to his house is quiet as Myra fidgets
with her hands in her lap. When he pulls into the driveway, he
mutters, “Don’t move. I’ll get your door,” before hopping out of
the truck.

She smiles as she watches him rush around
the truck and open the door for her, taking her hand to help her
out. He entwines his fingers with hers and grins at her as they
walk towards his front door.

“Well, this is where I live,” he says as he
helps her off with her coat and lays it with his on the couch.

“It’s really nice,” she says as she looks
around his living room. The walls are white with nothing on them
other than a flat screen TV. The furniture consists of an
overstuffed beige couch and matching loveseat along with a
well-worn black leather chair in the corner.

“Come on, I’ll show you around. There’s a
bathroom there,” he says, motioning his hand towards a door, “and
here’s the kitchen.”

Myra follows him into the kitchen and her
mouth drops open. The kitchen table has two place settings on it,
and in the center sits two candles and a vase with a single red
rose in it.

“It’s beautiful,” she says.

He grins from ear to ear before motioning
with his hand. “Here’s my room…” he says as he opens a door. A king
sized bed sits in the center of the room with black sheets and a
matching comforter on it. A dresser sits in the corner and once
again the walls are white with nothing on them.

“There are two other bedrooms full of junk,
and I have a basement but you don’t get to see it,” he says with a
chuckle. “I had to do a lot of cleaning before I could have you
over. My house was fucking disgusting so I threw the majority of
the shit downstairs.”