Color of Forgiveness (41 page)

* * *

“We got a lot done today,” Dennis says. His
dad helped him measure and cut all of the molding pieces; he can
install them later. Dylan nods as he starts packing his tools
up.

“Don’t wait until it’s too late to figure
things out with Myra, okay? I know you’re tired of hearing me say
this, but I’m going to keep saying it because I care about you. I
really think you need to see a doctor. It’s not good to hold
everything inside.”

“I know,” Dylan reluctantly agrees. “I
actually talked to that therapist today. I’m gonna start talking to
her again.”

“Really…?” Dennis asks, a huge smile
spreading across his face. “I’m so proud of you. You’re doing the
right thing, son. It takes courage to do what you’re doing. This is
good.”

Dylan nods as Dennis pulls him into a tight
hug.

“I’m going to go tell Myra goodbye and then
I’ll send her over to Jackie’s. Chad texted me and should be here
anytime.”

Dylan nods and takes his tools out to the
truck. He climbs into the driver’s seat and lights up again. He’s
still shocked as hell that Dr. Mitchum was willing to do phone
sessions with him. He does feel a little better after talking to
her. He was glad to hear from her that his panic attack and
blacking out were actually not unusual considering the news he’d
just received. She explained to him that it was his body’s way of
protecting itself.

He sits up when Chad pulls in behind him.
Chad jumps out of his truck and marches up to Dylan’s window. He
makes a motion with his hand for him to roll the window down. Dylan
rolls his eyes and shoves the key in the ignition, flipping it on
enough to get it to roll down.

“You better start calling me back, fucker.
Why are you sitting in your truck?”

“I’m smoking,” Dylan mumbles with the
cigarette still in his mouth.

“And you have to do that in your truck?”

Dylan shrugs. They both look up when the
door opens and Myra and his dad step out.

Chad reaches a hand in the truck and
squeezes Dylan’s shoulder. “Get it together, man, get it together,”
he says before walking over to where Myra and his dad are
standing.

Dylan rolls up his window and watches them
talk for a few minutes. His dad and brother both give Myra a hug
before walking back over to his truck. He frowns when he watches
Myra go back into her house. Dylan rolls his window down again.

“Jackie’s not home yet so Myra’s just going
to stay at her house for now,” his dad tells him. “Well, we’re
going to head out. Make sure you answer our calls, especially from
your mom and Natalie. They love you and it hurts their feelings
when you ignore them like that.”

“It hurts my feelings too, bro, so you gotta
put a stop to that shit,” Chad says.

Dylan works hard not to roll his eyes and
manages to nod.

They talk a little more before saying their
goodbyes. As they leave, Dylan pulls out another cigarette and
lights it. Taking in a deep draw, he leans his head back, closes
his eyes, and blows the smoke out slowly. A few minutes later, he
startles when he hears a door slam. Sitting up, he watches as Myra
walks down the steps. He figures maybe she decided to go on over to
Jackie’s. But instead of going to her house, she walks straight
down the driveway and past his truck, never once looking in his
direction. His brows pull together sharply as he turns his head to
see where the hell she’s going and his cigarette falls out of his
mouth, landing in his lap.

“
Jesus Christ,”
he mumbles in
irritation as he snatches it up, ash landing all over his jeans. He
shoves the smoke back in his mouth, opens the truck and climbs out,
quickly wiping the shit off his pants. He has to practically jog to
catch up with her. “Where the hell are you going?” he asks in a
harsh voice.

She ignores him and continues walking,
staring straight ahead.

He drops his cigarette on the ground and
jabs his fingers in his hair. “What are you doing?” he demands,
trying to keep up with her. He wants to grab her and shake her.

She seems to hold her head a little higher
in the air and starts walking faster.

“Goddamn it!” he shouts. He turns and jogs
back to his truck and starts it, squealing the tires as he backs
out of Myra’s driveway. He pulls up alongside her and rolls the
window down on the passenger side.

“Get in the goddamn truck, Myra, or I swear
to god, I’ll physically put you in the truck.”

She continues to stare straight ahead, but
finally starts talking. “I need to go to the grocery and since I
don’t have a car and you won’t speak to me and Jackie’s working
late, I figured I’d just walk there myself.”

“Myra, just
please
get in the truck,”
he begs. “I’ll take you to Marshall’s, all right?”

His words don’t seem to have any effect on
her since she keeps on walking and staring straight ahead. But
before he can begin plotting his next strategy, she slows her pace
and stops. He slams on the brakes.

She stares at him for a long minute and then
nods, her shoulders sagging a little. She opens the door and climbs
in.

He flips the heat on high and rolls the
windows down in the back to let all of the cigarette smoke out.

Neither of them says a word during the short
drive to Marshall’s. Dylan pulls into a parking spot and turns the
truck off. Myra’s hand reaches for the door handle.

“Hang on,” he says. He clears his throat.
“I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole today. Those shoes just scared the
hell out of me.”

“I wanted to explain, but you never gave me
a chance.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll listen now.”

“I’m sorry you saw those last night. The
other day, I mentioned to Susie that I wasn’t feeling well, and she
immediately suspected I was pregnant. Remember that big box that I
got from FedEx?”

He nods.

“Well, Susie is a little crazy so she sent
me a few baby things,
very
prematurely. I couldn’t sleep
last night, and I really liked those little slippers so I was
holding them when I fell asleep. I never meant for you to see
them.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know where they
came from and my mind was just, I don’t know…”

“It’s okay. Just talk to me next time and
don’t shut me out, all right?”

He nods and takes in a deep breath. “I
talked to my therapist today.”

Myra’s mouth drops open. “You did?”

“Yeah… we’re gonna do phone sessions for a
while. That way I don’t have to leave you.”

“Wow. I think that’s great. I’m so happy for
you,” she says, her eyes tearing up.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I
am
trying. I want to get all of my shit straightened out. I
just don’t know how yet.”

Myra wipes at her eyes. “I’ll wait for you,”
she whispers. “I’ll wait for you as long as it takes.” A tear
streaks down her cheek, and Dylan’s heart cracks wide open.

He feels his eyes watering.
Thank
you,
he mouths the words because he can’t speak them right now.
She smiles softly and nods, while quickly wiping at her face.

She clears her throat. “I’m going to go in
and do my shopping. I would tell you that you can just stay in the
truck, but I know you won’t,” she says with a small smile.

He gives her a small smile back and nods,
watching as she gets out of the truck.

Once she gets inside, he jumps out of his
truck and lights up a smoke. Standing in front of the store, he
smokes for a few minutes to give her enough time to get her cart
and shit. Using his boot, he stomps on his cigarette and enters the
store, looking around carefully. He cringes when the first person
he sees is Lucia sitting at the register.

He checks the first few aisles but doesn’t
see Myra. He finally finds her on the third aisle and is relieved
to find her alone and engrossed in her shopping.

He slowly follows her, keeping her in his
sight at all times. When she gets to the dairy section, she bends
over to pick up a gallon of milk, and Marshall comes barreling out
from the stock room. Dylan’s fists clench in fury when he sees
Marshall’s filthy eyes ogling her ass like a dog in heat. An
all-consuming rage fills him as his eyes narrow, and he stomps down
the aisle ready to beat the shit out of him.

“Hey, Myra… Oh.” Derek stops talking when he
sees Dylan, his eyes widening in fear.

Dylan steps up in Marshall’s face. “Keep
your filthy fucking eyeballs off of my woman and don’t speak to
her, do you understand? If I find out that you’re the one that’s
doing this shit to her house, I will hurt you. I will cause you
pain, intense pain.”

“Dylan,” Myra begs as she puts her hand on
his arm. “Calm down.”

“Go stock some shelves or some shit and get
the fuck away from us,” he growls at Derek. He practically runs
back into the stock room.

“Are you okay?” Myra asks.

“No. I hate that fucker. The way he was
looking at you…” He grinds his teeth, his jaw tightening.

“Well, he’s gone so you can relax. I
shouldn’t be much longer.”

Dylan nods.

“What are you doing?” Myra asks, frowning at
him.

He looks down at his hands gripping the cart
and back up at her. “I’ll push the cart.”

The corner of her mouth turns up slightly
and she nods. She intently studies her shopping list and scratches
off a few things. He follows her around, pushing the cart until
she’s done with her shopping.

“I’ll check out for you,” he tells her.
“Lucia’s at the register.” He pulls out his keys and hands them to
her. “Go sit in the truck, lock the doors and wait on me, all
right?”

She takes the keys from him. “I’m not afraid
of her, Dylan. I can’t hide from everyone in this town.”

He holds so tight to the cart that his
knuckles turn white. “Just go wait on me. I don’t want you to be
stressed or anything. That shit isn’t good for the baby.” His gaze
drops to her stomach and back up.

“All right, but let me give you some
money…”

“I’ve got it. It’s the least I can do with
all the cooking and shit you’ve been doing for me.”

She stares at him for a minute and then
nods. He pushes the cart, following her to the front of the store.
He watches her through the window until she’s safely in the truck
before he gets in line.

“Dylan, you’re looking good.
Very
good, actually,” Lucia says in a suggestive voice, wiggling her
bushy eyebrows. She bats her eyelashes at him, and it literally
makes his skin crawl. He ignores her and starts putting the
groceries on the belt.

“You know, I was really upset when Porter
questioned us about Myra’s car; as if we had anything to do with
that.”

Dylan continues to ignore her and unloads
the groceries.

“I heard that you and Myra broke up.” Dylan
almost drops the milk in his hand.

“What did you just say?”

“I heard you guys broke up. If you get
lonely, feel free to give me a call, anytime.”

“Who the hell did you hear that from?”

“I don’t know. It’s a small town. You can’t
take a shit without someone knowing about it,” she says with a
laugh, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

Dylan almost growls as he roughly grabs his
cart. But before he can get the fuck outta there, someone calls out
his name. Frowning, he turns around.

“Oh my goodness… I can’t believe I’m running
into you like this. What an amazing coincidence.” He rolls his eyes
and snarls when he sees that Rhonda woman grinning happily. “You
and Myra broke up? I
really
hate to hear that…”

Dylan doesn’t respond and turns around,
stomping out of the store. He’s just so sick of this town. He wants
everyone to stay out of his damn business. He’s annoyed from seeing
Derek, disgusted by Lucia, revolted from seeing Rhonda, pissed at
Sabrina, and upset at all the shit happening with Myra. He can only
think of one way to take his mind off of everything, and now that
his dad’s gone, and not breathing down his neck every second, he
plans to do just that.

* * *

“What’s he doing out there?” Jackie says as
she looks out the window for the twentieth time. “I worked twelve
hours today, and I’m exhausted. It’s late and I need to go to bed.
Go out there and tell him to get his ass inside.”

Myra nods and grabs her coat. “I’ll be right
back,” she mumbles as she closes the door behind her. Dylan’s been
out in his truck for hours. She just figured he needed some time
away from her as usual, but this is getting a little ridiculous. As
she gets closer to the truck, she frowns and starts to panic. The
front windows are both rolled down about halfway, but she doesn’t
see Dylan anywhere. Walking up to the driver’s side window, she
peers inside. A startled gasp leaves her mouth when she sees Dylan
lying on his back in the front seat with beer cans littering the
floorboard.

“Dylan? What’s going on?”

He lifts his head, his eyes droopy and
smiles widely. “It’s you. Hi, you…”

His hair is standing up all over his head,
and he looks like such an adorable mess that she can’t help but
smile back.

She hangs her fingers over the edge of the
window and leans in. “Have you been drinking?” she asks in an
accusing voice.

He smirks. “A little… You want some?” He
looks around then frowns. “Well, shit. I drank it all.”

She tries opening the door, but it’s locked.
She sticks her arm down through the open window, but can’t reach
it. “Dylan? Can you unlock the door?”

Slowly, he sits up. He looks at the buttons
on the door and then back up at her and snorts. “Which button?”

She tries not to snicker. “See the keys in
the ignition?” she says, pointing. “Press the button that says
unlock…”

He presses the lock button twice. “No. Not
that button, the other one.”

He finally presses the right button and
unlocks the door. She opens it and climbs in the driver’s side.