Y/N shot up from bed in a cold sweat, throwing the white comforter back and racing to the bathroom. On the way there, she stubbed the heel of her foot on the edge of the bed, a painful throb shooting straight up the back of her leg. It felt cool in that area too, like blood was beginning to pool there.
With tears in her eyes and a nauseating belly, Y/N pushes open the master bathroom door, thankful she didn’t need to put the toilet seat up since Erik left it that way since last night. She hunches over, hands bracing the toilet rim, hurling in the toilet. The vomit was practically nothing since she didn’t eat anything after 7:00 pm. It could also be because she doesn’t have much of an appetite in these early stages of her pregnancy. A cramping pain in her abdominal muscles from vomiting caused her to wrap her arms around her, sweaty face staring down at the swirling contents of her stomach, kneeling on her tip-toes because of the pain in her left heel.
Y/N closes her eyes momentarily, the feeling creeping up yet again. This shit was every single day. Right before she had to go into work at a mammography office in registration.
Y/N: *vomits loudly*
She spits, cursing to herself. When was this shit going to be over?
Y/N: *yells weakly with a dry voice* ERIKKK!
She needed his presence right now. Y/N rubbed sweat from her forehead, tears falling from her eyes. She was so weak and exhausted and fatigued. Her foot was in pain and possibly bleeding, and she had to be to work in a few hours.
Y/N: ERIK GET UP BABE! PLEASE *chokes up*
Meanwhile, Erik was in a deeper sleep then he usually was. His sleep schedule finally caught up with him since he was officially back home from the Military, teaching while receiving his Master’s in Engineering. His eyes shot open on her second yell, his large intimidating body rising from the tangled sheets, rushing to the bathroom awkwardly because of the way his sweats hung low on his legs. He blinked from the bright lights of the bathroom, rubbing his eyes as much as he could before spotting his girl hunched over the toilet again.
Erik walks toward her, squatting down beside her to pull the hair that fell from her messy curly bun back behind her ear. He placed the back of his hand to her warm neck before rubbing down her back slowly. With a groggy voice, he spoke to Y/N softly.
Erik: Shit, babe. My bad. *kisses the side of your head* You need to go some more?
Y/N: *shakes head weakly*
Erik: Is it normal to have morning sickness back to back like that? *grabs fresh washcloth to wet at the sink*
Y/N: Yeah, it’s perfectly normal. Just annoying as hell. *reaches to flush the toilet weakly*
Erik places the cool rag on the back of Y/N’s neck, trailing it around to her face, dotting her forehead. She closes her eyes, the cool rag massaging her skin. Thank God for microfiber wash cloths. Erik rubs his thumbs along her warm cheeks, placing a simple kiss to her lips, uncaring of the fact that she recently vomited.
Erik: C’mere *lifts you up carefully* let’s get you in a bath-
Erik pauses, the sound of you whimpering in pain and the sight of a little blood on the bathroom floor causing him to go into defense mode.
Erik: Y/N why the hell are you bleeding from your foot, baby?!
Y/N: I hit it on the edge of the bed trying to rush to the bathroom.
Erik: *kisses teeth* I’d rather you vomit in the bed next time if you’re gonna fuck yourself up tryna get to the bathroom *shakes head* damn, girl
Y/N: Sorry.
Erik: Ain’t nobody’s fault, babe.
Erik carefully places Y/N down on the toilet while he started up her bath water. While seated, Y/N leans over to the sink, reaching with a struggle to grab the tooth paste and her toothbrush to clean her mouth out.
Erik: Nah, *grabs the toothpaste and brush* I got you, open up
Y/N: Babe, you ain’t gotta do all of that.
Erik: Girl open your mouth. And yes I do. You better start getting used to this shit, Y/N, we got a baby on the way so I have two people to look after, one grown and one small.
Y/N didn’t argue back, she knew it would be no use. With Erik’s instructions, Y/N opened her mouth, allowing Erik to clean her teeth and tongue. She weakly smiles when toothpaste spills to her chin like she was a little girl again. After that she gargled, satisfied with her fresh breath. Erik started to undress her, removing his T-shirt from her body because that’s all she wore. As far as her heel, he cleaned up as much blood with peroxide as he could, all of that for just one tiny incision.
Y/N: I honestly think I would be a wreck if you weren’t here with me through all of this, E.
Erik: *smiles while washing you off* I feel the same way. Only lame niggas bail when they feel like the shit is too much to handle.
You couldn’t fight the grin on your face. The initial reaction to being pregnant wasn’t a happy moment for you at first. For Erik, he couldn’t shut up about it. He wanted babies, you did too but you didn’t think it would get that far with him if you were being honest. Erik was always away, up until now. Maybe having this baby will set things right. Maybe it was always meant to be with you both.
Erik: You know you gotta keep up with your fluids, right? And you need to eat I keep telling you to stop skipping meals because you don’t feel well. Your body is changing, babe.
Erik was always nagging you about this. You didn’t understand what was happening to your body. You weren’t prepared at all.
Y/N: E, I know all that.
Erik: *glares with a tilt of his head* Then why aren’t you doing it? You act like a nigga can’t cook for you.
Y/N: Babe, you’re being dramatic *rolls eyes*
Erik: You better stop rolling them pretty brown eyes at me. I can be dramatic for my girl.
He was so cute. You let him have that since it made you blush and now your tummy felt better and your mood was lifted.
Erik: Call out of work too, you staying home.
You were already on it. The level of exhaustion you felt would get you through an eight hour shift. It was Friday too so now you could have a three day weekend.
Erik: I can cook you breakfast, we can lay in bed and I can rub your belly. Later on you can go through the sweats I bought your spoiled ass since your belly getting all swole on me.
Y/N: *shoves Erik* Swole?! Really?!
Erik laughs, grabbing your dainty hands to kiss before leaning over in the tub to kiss your wet four month pregnant belly. It wasn’t even there yet but he kissed it no matter what.
Erik: Tomorrow, if you feel nauseous wake me up so I can go with you.
You simply nod your head, standing in the tub while he wraps your favorite towel around you. He lifts you up, carrying you to the room with his eyes on you. The heat of lust that you felt gave you enough fuel to at least return the favor to your man.
summary: it's finally time for dallas and terry to catch up just like old times. but with new information about the dubois clan being shared and old memories arising. where will this leave the pair now?
pairing: terry richmond x dallas dubois (oc!)
content: language, crude remarks, allusions to a eating disorder, ANGST, mentions of death and pregnancy related death, mentions of mortuary practices, LOTS OF LORE Y'ALL. allusions to non sexual acts. pda.
note: be advised that while this installment is considered a main part, there may be references or connections made to weekly interludes that may contain information important to the storyline.
a/n: evening! it feels good to be back! i hope everyone enjoys this one, because i for sure enjoyed writing it!
p.s: please feel free to comment, like, reblog, or send a letter with any rambles, hit my dm for questions, and more. i enjoy hearing from you all - arie ✨
p.p.s: i tried to get the song link as a pandora one but it wouldn’t work! ☹️
song inspo:
The drive to the local diner was nothing short of quiet and squeamish as Dallas Dubois and Terry Richmond arrived for a dinner the ex-marine felt was long overdue on many different fronts.
It was there that you’d find the ex-friends sitting across from each other at a booth while Dallas answered questions and queries about topics he never got to ask. Like the parameters of the Dubois family dynamic.
“ I can’t for the life of me understand why Devin acts the way he does. When I look at him and then look at y’alls daddy. It’s like night and day. If I didn’t grow up here, I’d find it hard to believe that’s his son–that’s he’s your brother. Wild, man.” Terry shook his head, taking a sip of his lemonade.
“ Half-Brother.” Dallas pointed out, making Terry quick to frown. He never did like it when people did that. Made distinctions like half or whole when referring to having siblings. He personally didn’t believe in any of that. Blood was Blood, whether it’s a drop or a liter. Which also meant family was family.
Period.
“ Hey! Don’t scrunch those bushy brows at me. I’m just repeating the same thing he tells everyone anyway.” She playfully scolded as Terry was swift to fix his face at her request,“ He’s quick to correct anybody that Ramsey and I are his half siblings. So why shouldn’t I get to.”
“ I’m aware.” Terry noted, remembering actively hearing Devin make the distinction very clear on the rare occasions they found themselves intermingled in the same social settings. “ But I guess I just can’t wrap my head around why? I mean it’s not like you and Ramsey run around calling each other half of anything.”
Which was true. The bond that Dallas carried with her oldest brother was one that couldn’t be defined as half anything, or nothing less than wholesome. In moments of triumph and tragedy, Ramsey remained Dallas’s closest confidant for things that she found herself not even being able to share with her mother or Anora. And in return Dallas found herself being the soundboard for the most important and curious moments in Ramsey’s life. They had always supported each other in these ways and she had been thankful to have him all this time.
“ Well that’s because to Ramsey and I we don’t see each other as anything else. Blood is Blood, no matter the quantity of what shared cells may run through our veins. He’s my brother, plain as that.” Dallas explained. “ Besides, we were raised by the same mother and father. Grew up with the same values and lessons instilled in us. The only main thing that would make us differ is the age gap. But even still I’ve always felt he and I were of the same wave length. So…” She shrugged, leaning over the table and reaching a hand over to Terry’s basket of food to snag another cajun fry to dip into the delectable orange sauce on her plate.
“ If you don’t mind me asking…” Terry started, slightly pushing the basket more toward the center of the table, “ What happened to Ramsey’s mother? Do you know? Because I’ve never heard any of you talk about her before. Just about your mama or Evaline.”
Dallas nods, “ Ramsey’s mother, Lydia, was Daddy’s first wife. They were college sweethearts and fell in love during undergrad when he was in mortuary school and she was studying nursing.”
“ After they got married their junior year, she switched to accounting to learn how to help Daddy manage the business after she got fascinated with the idea of opening up their practice.”
“ Long story short they both graduated, and Daddy got an offer from a professor of his to buy the professor’s family’s older and outdated mortuary that needed a bit of work but was otherwise good. The only thing was that the mortuary building was here in the professor’s home town of Savannah. Which meant they would have to leave Oklahoma and move here.”
“ Of course they decided to do it. And when they got here they convinced Seymour Flemming’s son, remember him? He was the old white guy who struck all that oil in Alabama. Well, Daddy negotiated with his son, Wallace, who he knew had a black wife, to invest in the business for the repair costs and such. While promising to give him a stake in the company.”
“ Once that deal was sealed they started renovations on the place and they opened up in spring of 1985. And by that time Lydia had gotten pregnant with Ramsey but unfortunately she died giving birth to him in early 86’.”
Dallas sighed, “ Doctors missed her having severe hemorrhaging after she kept complaining of abdominal pain post delivery.”
Terry felt a wave of sympathy flash through his chest for Ramsey and Mr. Dubois both, “Damn. I’m sorry.”
“ Yeah. After that Daddy decided to raise Ramsey by himself with the help of other people at the home like Anora’s mama and Mr. Ducane, who have both been there since the home started.”
“ That was until he met Evaline at an old juke joint in Knoxville she was singing out of during one of the times Uncle Amos, Daddy’s twin brother, had a gig there that night. And had asked Daddy to come and fill in for their sax player who was out sick.”
At this piece of information being divulged, Terry found his eyebrows touching a bit in shock. Because while it had been a known fact around town that L.T Dubois once had a fondness for music and could be seen frequenting the local jazz clubs with his third wife on a good night, Terry still had never heard of him being a player himself, “ Yo’ daddy on the sax? Really? I know he liked music. But I never knew he played.”
Dallas gave a short laugh, “ Hmmph. I don’t even think ‘play’ is the right word, to be honest.” A smile danced on her face at the memory of being a young girl, sneaking out of bed, and following the hum of the music all the way to the garage where she could find her Daddy working his Sax to the sound of a reference track in the back. And never did he scold her or shoo her away. Instead he indulged her curiosity by allowing her to be his devoted audience member until her eyes shut and his music became a background music to her sweet dreams.
“ He was absolutely extraordinary with a sax. Never heard anything quite like it.” Dallas beamed, “He’s one of the reasons I still like listening to Jazz music when I need to fall asleep. It’s comforting.”
Terry watched the admiration on her face with a small smile of his own, happy to know that despite the years Dallas had to watch the unfortunate demise of her father, that in the end she was able to hold onto images and memories of them together in a happier time.
“ Anyway, he and Evaline met, hit it off, and he married her after six months of knowing her. Then she moved up here. But she never worked anywhere unless it was at one of the local clubs singing. Never helped with the funeral home and barely looked after Ramsey or Devin once they had him.”
“ Which may explain where Devin gets his spirit of laziness from.” Terry commented, beginning to piece together the similarities of what he knew of Evaline to then compare them to present day Devin.
“ Right. But eventually after a while, and against Daddy’s many protests, Evaline decided she wanted to get back on the road and decided to get a gig singing back up for a blues band touring up north. And she left my Daddy to figure out how to juggle a seven year old and a baby under two by himself, while still trying to run a business.”
“ But like many other unfortunate young singers during the height of the Reagan administration, Evaline went out on the road and got hooked on crack, bad, after a band member laced a cigarette he gave her with it.” Dallas explained.
“ When she came back home. She was just never the same. Just really erratic all the time, impulsive, and even started abusing both crack and alcohol.”
“ Daddy tried his best a couple of times to take her to rehab. But it never stuck. And the final straw was when she almost burned the house down with her, Devin, and Ramsey in it.”
“ What?!” Terry’s voice unintentionally carried over the confines of the booth as a few patrons looked to catch a glimpse of the slight disbelief spreading on his face.
“ Mhmm.” Dallas confirmed, “ They said she had been trying to make a pot of greens and left it on by itself. It caught on fire and by the time the fire department got there after Ramsey managed to call 911, half the kitchen was in flames.”
“ Once they put out the fire, they found her in the basement laundry room strung out. Pipe in one hand with an unfolded bed sheet in the other.”
“ Daddy made the decision then to press charges and she ended up going to county jail for six years on different charges of child endangerment and drug possession. He divorced her and got full custody of Devin too.”
“ Fuck. He couldn’t catch a break.” Terry slid a hand across his back of his neck as he tried to imagine the absolute strain L.T must have been under to endure all those events occurring on-top of each other like that.
“ Yeah, it seems like he couldn’t. When in actuality the truth is my Daddy was just someone who always found himself in the oddest of cases. Whether they’d be on purpose or not.” Another small smile appeared on the young mortician’s face as she prepared to tell Terry another fact that she knew he wouldn’t be able to believe.
“ Case in point, after everything that had happened to him during that time, including his first wife dying, his second wife being a drug addict with the marriage ending in divorce, and him now having two young children to see about on his own. It wasn’t until about a year later that Daddy found himself in another curious predicament when he met my Mama at a funeral in Dallas, Texas mind you…for her late husband.”
Immediately Dallas stifled her laughter when she watched Terry’s face drop as he began shaking his head in rightful disbelief, “ Just stop it. Forreal, stop. Cause ion’ even wanna hear anymore at this point. Cause this the most messy Tyler Perry bullshit you’ve said thus far. And I don’t think I can keep listening.”
“ Oh yeah. It’s messy for sure, No doubt.” She laughed, “ But you have to let me finish since I done started now.”
“ Well then go ahead.” With a smirk, Terry dropped his napkin on his plate before leaning back against the booth with his arms crossed giving her his undivided attention, “ Finish telling me how your nosy ass spawned from all these messy ass events with this name too. Dallas.”
At his remark she frowned, opting to throw a regular fry from her plate at a quietly chuckling Terry who she called a jackass before she continued, “ Like I was saying before you rudely interrupted me. This incident occurred when they had just opened the Dallas location under Uncle Amo’s leadership back then.”
" Wait, I thought your Uncle Beau was over the Dallas location?" Terry questioned, mentioning the baby of the three Dubois brothers.
" Mmm. Mmm. No! Uncle Beau would NEVER, ever, ever, EVER..." Dallas found the need for dramatics in her words important, " Take over leadership of either home. He draws the line at sitting on the board of trustees for the business. And that was a task Daddy had to practically tackle him into."
" No, instead he prefers keeping to himself up in Philadelphia, teaching and living his life. He always sends a card around the holidays though, or he may call on a birthday for a quick catch up. But that's it and that's all. He sort of disappeared after Daddy died. And I know for a fact him and Uncle Amos don't talk." Dallas explained.
" And I don't blame him either. Uncle Amos is a piece of work..." Dallas dryly laughed.
But before Terry could probe furthered she continued,“ Uncle Amos had called Daddy and told him of the husband’s passing since they knew him. And Daddy went to Texas for the funeral so he could pay his respects to her late husband who he’d played football with way back in college at OKS.”
“ I remember that he once said that from the minute he saw her sitting on the front row in front of the congregation, she was the prettiest thing in black he’d ever seen.” Dallas always found it funny to think that in the midst of grieving and crying people Dallas had somehow made this out to be like it was a scene pulled straight from LoveBoat regardless of the fact of its setting.
“ But he knew it was inappropriate to pursue a woman after her husband had just died, so he left it alone and went back home. Plus he was still getting over what had happened with Evaline.”
“ It wasn’t until a couple months later that he was back here in Savannah and stopped to get a drink after work one evening down at Viola’s. That low and behold who was the first person he saw when stepped in the door…”
“ You have gotta be fucking kidding me.” A sarcastic laugh passed his lips , “ What was she even doing down here?!”
“ Visiting her sister, My Aunt Tootie, here in Savannah. Who at the time had followed her now ex-husband up here who came to work for your Uncle at the construction company funnily enough.”
“ Wow. Just goes to show you that the south is too gotdamn small.” Terry concluded.
“ Indeed it is.” Dallas agreed before continuing, “ Yet, he found himself practically tripping over his feet trying to get her. And tried to play it off like he wasn’t ready to fly through the roof at seeing her.”
“ So, he sat down, bought her a drink, and they hit it off. Next thing you know four months later they got married, she moved down here, and they had me. The end.” Dallas clapped, leaning over to take a sip of the half melted strawberry milkshake she’d impulsively ordered off the menu.
And as Terry began trying to process the Dubois family crash course Dallas had so eagerly given up, there was only one thought pressing against the forefront of his mind, “ Damn, yo’ Daddy moved quick. I mean that nigga didn’t waste anytime calling the preist and jumping that broom. Cause that’s three wives in ten years is crazyyyy.” He laughed.
“ Yep! And he dared anybody to comment on it too. Especially to his face. Because even though he always knew people talked shit about it behind his back. He also knew that nobody would have the balls to say anything to the Undertaker of all people, to his face about his affinity for marriage.”
“ Undertaker.” Terry snorted, “ I remember him having that nickname. And I also remember you starting it and him hating it.” Terry recalled the alter-ego that the children of Savannah had made up for L.T, that was accompanied by a town legend that said if he ever caught you staring at him long enough, you’d be faced with a tombstone. And whether that meant the wwe move or him actually hitting up you upside the head with an inscribed cement slab would be left up to your own imagination.
“ Me too. But it just fits! I mean they’re both big, tall, intimidating, and have a knack for keeping a collection of ridiculous ass hats.” She shrugged, snagging another fry from Terry’s plate, “ What can I say. Besides I think he secretly liked it. I remember hearing him jokingly refer to himself as the Undertaker once to Mr. Ducane in the staff office. So I think he was just frontin’ is all.”
“ The same way you front about people callin’ you, Precious?” Terry said, noting the way his words snatched the playfulness out of the air around them as Dallas tensed her body, angling it away from him to stare off toward the front of the building.
“ It’s not a front, Terry.” Dallas arms found a home crossed against her chest, “ I don’t typically like people calling me that. You know that, and you know why too.
“ No, I don’t know that.” Terry countered, leaning forward on clasped hands, “ What I do know though, is that yes, you don’t like certain people calling you that. But I’ve seen when some people have called you that and a smile a mile wide has stretched across your face.”
“ Like…”
“ Well for one, your Daddy.” Terry noted, watching as her face softened, “ I remember that he could have called that name out to you in the middle of a crowd and you would’ve heard it clear as day with a grin on your face.”
“ Then I heard your mom call you it a couple of times, even though I know she prefers to call you her dumplin.” At the mention of Terry knowing that, Dallas turned her head even further away to try and hide the flushed cheeks she now sported; that was evidence of embarrassment at the fact that he even knew that was a thing.
“ I also know that Ramsey sometimes calls you Precious even though he prefers to call you Pinky.”
“ And I call him Brain right back.” Dallas noted the silly nicknames she and brother had for each other based on the comical rodents as seen in episodes of the Animaniacs cartoons he’d watch with her on Saturday mornings over a bowl of cereal. See, Ramsey even in his youth could have always been described as an academic, preferring to always have some kind of older literature Dallas couldn’t pronounce in his hand as he always was being carted off by their mother to attend young writer’s conferences and guilds. Which in turn made Dallas compare him to Brain, due to their shared intellectual abilities. With Ramsey then calling Dallas, Pinky, to give reference to the young girl’s silly personality.
“ Right. But my point, is that even though in the past people have used this nickname in an ill fitted way. And you claim that nowadays you hate hearing it. I just don’t think that’s true.” Terry resolved.
“ Because I think that if said by the right people, it’s something you actually love hearing.” He offered.
“ Yeah? And you may have been right about that once. But none of that matters now, because after years of having peers call me that only to throw things at me or hurl hateful comments my way about my weight as a young teenage girl or other...issues…I was having. You have to know that hearing the nickname, no matter who says it, doesn’t give me the same joy you’re talking about.”
“ And you can partially thank your little teammate and your fiance for that.” Dallas turned to him now taking in the seriousness that had seeped into his face.
“ Right, well hopefully things have changed since then." Terry's eyes narrowed.
“ Because I don’t like the way he treats you.” Terry states, “ At all.”
“ And you know if I’m around I’m going to tolerate him or anybody else’s shit when it comes to you at this point. So keep that in mind. Cause I mean that.” At his declaration Dallas felt a small flutter occur in her chest, a familiar movement that she still felt foreign to have after all these years. Especially here…with him.
But one tiny passing flashback to a time before was enough to let the feeling flee away and bring her back to the present, “ Well those are pretty words, Terry. I appreciate that.”
“ But.” She sighed, “ Not much I can do about it, that’s my brother. Whether I like it or not.”
“ Although it hasn’t always been this bad. I mean, yeah, he was terrible when we were younger. But I remember a time right before y’all graduated he became half-way decent to me.”
“ I think maybe it’s because Daddy died and he felt some kind of way. Grief can do that to a person, make them more compassionate I guess.”
Ass whoopings can do that too.
I can still remember when I hemmed him up senior year and threatened to beat his ass in the locker room after a game once in front of everybody when I caught him call you a—
Terry didn’t wanna finish the thought, but he’d made it clear then that if he heard of Devin disrespecting or mistreating Dallas whether he was around or not, he’d rearrange his face into one only a mother could love. And for the rest of the year, he hadn’t heard a peep from Devin other than a play being called on a field.
“ Yeah, death can sometimes bring people together that way.” He agreed, taking a sip of his lemonade, “ Y’all getting along better now? ”
“ Sure.” Dallas put on a smile as real as a counterfeit bill.
Which prompted Terry’s eyebrows to take on that famous frow in them that she secretly loved,“ Sure? What does that mean, Dallas?”
“ Sure. That’s what that means, Terry. That it’s neither here nor there on any given day. The end.” She squeamishly attempted to dismiss his concern.
“ Dallas—”
“ Stop.” She held up a hand, “ I don’t wanna talk about him right now. Especially not while I’m having a good time dishing out the family lore here.”
At the notion that Dallas was actually enjoying the two of them being in the space together, Terry found himself relaxing for a moment with a small smile, “ Speaking of…I don’t think you’ve ever told me how your parents met.” Dallas shifted, “ I think after my yapping it’s only fair I get to hear how Terry Richmond came to be.”
When a small silence took a space with them in the booth, Dallas mentally kicked herself for becoming comfortable enough to let her curiosity sour the content mood they’d built over the course of the last two hours. She could especially tell by the way Terry had suddenly gone quiet, opting to send her a small tight lipped smile before he said, “ It’s getting late, D. And I wanna make sure you get back home before it gets too dark.. So, how about I tell you another time, yeah.” Terry quickly explained before motioning for the young waitress to return to the table for their tab.
From there returning to the car had been even more awkward then the actual drive there.
It wasn’t much to be said under the guise of the setting sun who so graciously painted a picture on its surface using hues of pinks, oranges, and blues that Dallas focused on through the windshield, instead of paying attention to the many racing thoughts she had in her mind.
Whereas all Terry could try to do in addition to watching the road in front of him, was to try and sort the many thoughts floating into his brain into a variety of different categories that were already filled to the brim with previous things he’d put there in a promise to himself to sort later.
The only thing was, now just couldn’t be later.
Instead now , just needed to be now.
And at that moment he needed to figure out how to rejuvenate the atmosphere between them that his involuntary shut down at the restaurant had induced. Because while he hadn’t meant to recede into himself in that way at the innocent question posed by her, he still couldn’t help that it was as if he had felt every vein in his body calcify into stone as his chest began to weigh down with an eerie feeling of grief…and anger… at the thought of his parents.
But whatever personal shit that he needed to work out between himself and the unfamiliar person he’s seen in the mirror every morning for the last eighteen years would have to wait.
Because he didn’t want anything to taint his time alone with her while he had.
Not even himself.
“ Dallas, look... I’m sorry.” His voice broke over the low sound hum of the radio, “ I didn’t mean to brush you off like that it’s just that–
“ It’s fine, Terry. Really.” Dallas quickly turned, offering a sympathetic, “ I should’ve known better. I just forgot that that’s a sensitive topic for you. So it’s my fault for talking too much.” She apologized, returning her gaze back out of the passenger window.
“ Hey.” He softly called, “Hey.”
When attempts failed he pushed forward,“ Lorraine.”
At the sound of her actual name, Terry succeeded in grabbing her attention once more before speaking, “ Dallas, you weren’t talking too much. You talking is never too much, alright?” He did his best to watch the near vacant road while still trying to hold the seriousness of her eyes.
“ If anything…” He paused, “ It’s really just about me learning how to talk more about stuff. Even things that’s a little sore for me…”
“ So you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” He spoke, “ If anything I’m sorry for cutting it short. Cause I really didn’t want us to stop talking.”
“ I like us talking.” The words coming out small but meaningful across his hips.
“ I like it, too.” Dallas quietly quietly, allowing a somber smile to take residence on her face once again.
Then there was another silence that took to the air, only this time it felt…comfortable.
That was until the universe decided to reveal a gesture to the two of them, as that song began to plan on the radio...
We were holding hands in the park
We had to hurry home before it's dark
I can't wait to see your smile again
And I love the time we spend...
Out of the corner of his eye he caught the slight turn of her head she did, more than likely wanting to gage what his reaction to it would be.
“ You can turn it if you want.” He spoke, timid in a way meant to not scare her off.
“ No, it’s alright…I like this song.” She whispered, feeling a long forgotten fleet within her stomach she hadn't in she couldn't recall when.
“ Me too.”
I just wanna be alone with you
(I just wanna be alone with you)
And there's nothing else I'd rather do
(There's nothing else I'd rather do)
I just want the chance I had again…
Though neither of them would acknowledge why.
The same way neither of them would acknowledge how their hands had found their way to clasping together on top of the console just as Terry hit the side street leading back to the back parking lot. And with each turn of the wheel, another thought seemed to turn in the back of Dallas’s mind. Thoughts that she knew were being brought on by the better part of her conscience whom she usually always listened to without failure…at least until now.
Because as of now it had seemed that the finicky little organ beating rapidly in her chest had begun to take over, and it seemed that all Dallad could do was say a silent prayer that the man next to her would mistake the sound of her loudly beating heart for the bass of the song they both knew they loved.
From there it only took a moment before the car became stationary in the lone back parking lot beside the black Audi A5 that sat close to the garage door.
His grip never seemed to slip on her hand.
“ Thanks for going with me.” He spoke first, looking to her.
“ No, thank you for offering.” She countered, “ It felt nice to talk over dinner for a change. Usually we if I don’t visit Nory & Ethan or go visit my Mama, It’s just me, some meal prep, and a stack of paperwork.”
“ Mmm. Well maybe we'll have to start changing that more often.” He shot out into the air, hoping she’d receive it.
“ Yeah, maybe.” She hummed in agreement, “ Not too often. But every once in a while wouldn’t–Ah—mmm.” She winced out in slight pain.
“ What? What’s wrong.” The concern in his voice was prominent as he lowered the radio, ready to hear whatever discomfort he was sure to try and remedy.
“ Nothing stupid eyelash.” Dallas waved him off, reaching up blindly for the visor.
“ Let me see—
“ No, Terry, it's fine. It’ll come out on its own in just a minute. I got I–”
“ Dallas.”She felt her body slightly jolt when she heard her name come across his lips again that way.
There goes that tone again, she thought to herself.
“ Move your hand and let me see.” He beckoned her over.
Reluctantly complying to his request with a small huff of protest and pain, she let go of his hand and released herself from her seat belt before clambering to somewhat lean in his direction, careful to steady her shaking hand back on the console.
When he noticed she stopped short he encouraged her further, “ Come closer.”
Alarms going off in her head at the prospect of being almost face to face with him if she moved a couple inches more to the left, Dallas fixed her mouth to protest again, but found the words falter once she seen the stern set of his own mouth out of the current good eye she had.
So now she had moved so close she could feel his minty breath gently blow against her cheek as he attempted to get the eyelash, and in turn made her eyelashes and heart all in one sick synced movement.
“ There.” He said, “ Got it.”
“ Thank you.” She whispered, drawing back some, but not completely.
“ You’re welcome.” He whispered back, the air stilling between them.
“ I should go.” She practically had to force the words to tumble out, seeing as it was a declaration that was the complete antonym of what she actually felt.
“ Yeah, you should.” He paused, “ But I don’t want you to.”
Girl, don't leave me, don't leave me
Don't leave me, baby (Ooh)
Girl, don't leave me, don't leave me
You know I'll be here for you (Oh)
Girl, don't leave me, don't leave me
Just me and you (Mmm)
“ I don’t really want to either.” She returned, this time letting honesty coat her words.
“ Then don’t.”
She didn’t have time to blink or be confused about his last statement because all the working power her brain had left was zapped with the quick shock that inhibited her body at the feel of his hand on her cheek and the taste of his lips on hers.
The moment his lips touched hers she should’ve pushed him away, but instead her hands desperately grasped at the flex of his back to draw him closer into her.
With only one thing being whispered into the cool Savannah air against each other’s lips.
Guess he’s not quite the English gent after all 😂. The way he went about this whole situation was distasteful, but then again I don’t know this man fr, so I’m indifferent 🤷🏽♀️.
Is there solace for the black woman in the arms of a black man? She’s revered for being so strong in times when she’s needed and yet in the same breath criticized for being angry, accused of being bitter, even jealous. But let’s consider all things from her perspective. She understands, black man, your plight. She’s aware of the difficulties you face because she too faces them. She’s there, trying to console you and defend you. She has your back when all hell breaks loose. She prays on her hands and knees for you. She gives her body to satisfy and pacify you and to carry your legacy. But yet, often times, she is betrayed. She becomes the butt of your jokes; the punching bag for your frustrations; the victim of your indiscretions. You are dismissive and irresponsible with her emotions. Careless with her body. You push her out, then pull her back in. So, I suppose the answer is no. But if there is such a black woman that feels like me, there is no way to ever stop loving the black man that is he.
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