“I can’t, Mick,” Dylan said. “My boys have been home all evening without me.”
“All right. I give. I’ll come to your house. What do you want on the pizza?”
“Mick, I can’t. Not tonight.”
“Dylan, you’re killing me. Why not?”
Dylan hesitated then answered as she shut off the register. “Sam is probably there.”
“Sam? Sam?” With a slight jerk of his head, Mick rolled his eyes. “Ah, now, see, for sure I’m coming over.”
“Don’t you dare. You know how he’s being, how he’ll react.”
“We aren’t doing anything wrong. I don’t want to hide this,” Mick argued calmly. “You’re broke up.”
“We’re still married.”
“Only because he’s contesting the divorce he initially wanted.” Mick took a breath. “Look, I refuse to have a repeat of the senior prom.”
“Oh my God,” Dylan chuckled. “Here we go again. How many times do you have to bring this up?”
“As many as needed. I’m emotionally scarred over that.”
Dylan continued to laugh.
“No. He breaks up with you two weeks before senior prom all because he thinks he’s going with Suzie-what’s-her name. I ask you. You accept. He changes his mind. I’m in the cold. Same thing.”
“It is not.”
“Yes, it is.” Mick held up a finger. “Sort of. Same-old same-old. A million times he breaks up with you…”
“Oh, now, stop. You’re exaggerating.” Dylan pulled forward a little cart. “And I’m arranging these while we argue.” She fussed with the movies.
“Ok, maybe not a million times. But bet me it’s a hundred,” Mick rattled. “All these years. He breaks up with you. Grass is always greener, relationship is stale, I don’t feel it anymore. All those cockamamie reasons he gives you. He flies the coop, returns, sings a sappy ‘I love you take me back’ and you buy it. Always. You’re doing it again.”
“I am not. It was different this time, Mick.” Dylan softened her voice and faced him. “You know he was going through a rough time. His parents both died at the same time.”
“Life’s tough, Dylan. It was bad what happened. But you don’t turn your back on the one person that can pull you through. You just don’t. You deal with it. You move on. You don’t disappear from the face of the earth for three months. Three months he was gone.”
“And he’s been back for months, too.” She placed her hand on her hip. “Who am I with?”
“I don’t know. Who?”
Dylan rolled her eyes. “Stop it.”
“I can’t publicly date you. Have to hide it.” Mick lifted his movie. “One of these years, Dylan, I’m gonna stop chasing you around so much. Have a good night with Sam.” He moved to the door. “I’m just gonna go home… watch my Bruce Willis woman-enticing film while eating a pizza all by myself.”
“Mick…”
Mick hid his smirk as he stopped before leaving and peered over his shoulder. “Yes?”
“Give me a half hour, get the pizza, come on over.”
“Are you sure now?” he asked innocently.
“Mick, go. See ya soon.”
With a flash of a grin, Mick darted from the store.
After shaking her head, Dylan returned to her video cart and the un-alphabetized movies she knew she had better get in order before her father wrote her up again. She knew the rules, three write-ups in one month meant termination, and low paying or not, she didn’t want to lose her job.
Deadhorse, Alaska
How quickly Inez developed the cough surprised his wife, Delia, but not as much as how deep the cough had suddenly become. She had been a volunteer health aide in her community and others for some time, and had never witnessed such a rumbling in such a short span of time. Her only explanation was that she had been busy with the children and hadn’t noticed the illness creeping up on Inez.
But it had, and Inez had failed to open his eyes in his struggle to fight the fever and cough that assaulted him. His way of getting well, she supposed, was resting a lot. Of course, Inez, in the late hours was the only one who could sleep. The silence of the home was broken by the loud coughing spells that seemed to wrack the children as well as herself.
She was sponge-bathing him for the fifth time, wiping off the dirty sweat that didn’t accompany a breaking fever. He smelled sour to her, an odor of a sort she had never smelled before. He didn’t speak much all day, mumbling occasionally to Delia that he was ill and he was sorry for being so useless. Inez also murmured something to her about the science station he often visited, making no sense in his mention of his last visit and the people who lived there. Delia knew what he meant. He wanted their technology to help him. But that was something she couldn’t do. It was too cold and the journey too long to make on her own while leaving the children with him. So she did the best she could do. Aside from administering her own help, she crossed the river to the next village and sought the help of their medicine woman.
Delia was hopeful. The medicine woman gave care to her husband, and offered some prayers, as well. He was strong and Delia knew it wouldn’t be long before he beat whatever had overtaken him so rapidly.
CHAPTER THREE
Lodi, Ohio
August 20th
About the time of day that most parents complained that all their children did was sleep all day, Dylan closed Dustin and Christian’s bedroom doors. Aside from an uninterrupted morning while they slept, she wouldn’t have to view the unsightly danger zones of their rooms.
Happy that her newly-introduced rule of, ‘if it isn’t in the hamper, it doesn’t get washed’ seemed to be working, Dylan carried the small armful of items with her down the stairs en route to what would be an easy laundry day.
Annoyed, wondering who was knocking on her door at ten in the morning, Dylan dropped the clothes on the floor and answered it.
She didn’t recognize the Hispanic gentleman who smiled at her. Early to mid-thirties, he stood tall, the jeans and crisp tee shirt accenting the perfect body that matched an even better face. He was topped off with one of the best haircuts Dylan had ever seen on a man in Lodi. Obviously, he wasn’t from around there.
She returned his smile as she thanked God that she had showered and dressed presentably. “Can I help you?” she asked.
“Mrs. Hughes?”
After thinking, ‘cool, he’s looking for me’, Dylan nodded. “Yes.”
“Hi.” He extended his hand. “I’m Patrick McCaffrey.”
Dylan’s face must have shown her shock. Patrick? Patrick? Not that she was prejudiced, and not that she would have immediately labeled him a Raul, but the name Patrick McCaffrey was the last name she would have given him.
“You don’t recognize the name?” he asked.
“No.” She shook her head.
“I’m the new first grade teacher over at Lodi Elementary.”
With a long ‘oh’, Dylan opened the door wider. “Come in.”
“Thanks.” Patrick stepped inside. “Mrs. Hughes…”
“Dylan. Call me Dylan.”
Patrick snickered. “As in… Bob?”
“You got it. My parents had a sick sense of humor. My maiden name is Roberts. Imagine growing up like that.” She took a deep breath. “So, what can I do for you?”
“Well…” he paused, “did you get my letter last week?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“Then you know I’m new to these parts and… I really wanted to take this next month to get to know my students. You know, on a different level. So their first real year of school isn’t so difficult. I had a ‘meet me’ donut gathering this morning at the library. You and Anthony didn’t show.”