Killing Me Softly(A Broken Souls Series)

“Thank you. Your family has always been so kind to me. If Tate works out, I’ll be sure to bring him over. He and I have to date a month before I’ll consider it though.” We laugh at the month mention. Andy was a stickler about her rules and boys. We weren’t allowed to tell the parents or anyone else that they were a boyfriend until a month passed. Most relationships don’t last a month so we find it a good rule to live by. We FOUND it. I remind myself that she’s no longer here. No longer in the present tense. Forever and always, she’ll be past tense.

We carry the boxes downstairs and load up my car. Our goodbye is easier than I expected, I think to myself as I drive away.

***



Chapter Five. Sweet Dreams

Going through Andy’s clothes wasn’t as depressing as I thought it would be. If I’m honest with myself, it brought back so many happy memories. It didn’t take long for me to find the perfect outfit for tonight. It’s classy enough for such a fancy restaurant. Cadiddlehopper’s is the nicest place to eat in Midwest City, the neighboring town to Del City and the town Tinker AFB is located. One of the gates to get on base, and closest to the dorms is two blocks away from where I live. Tate is only two blocks away!

***

Dad was asleep on the couch when I got back from hanging out with Bethany. I ran to my room to get ready for my date before he wakes up. It takes me less than thirty minutes to get ready, thanks to picking out my outfit earlier today. I grab my purse, a fancy designer one that was in the box of Andy’s things, and I go out to the living room. He’s awake but he’s pacing the floor. This isn’t a good sign.

“Hi Dad, are you ready for dinner? I picked up a nice and greasy burger and fries for you. I’ll heat them up.” I barely say the words before he’s standing in front of me. I take a deep breath and brace myself for the next ten minutes of my life.

“Who is he?” Dad demands. Paranoia.

“What are you talking about?” I keep my words steady, knowing he’s on the edge of freaking out.

“You know damn well who I’m talking about!” Spittle flings from his mouth as he screams in my face. Anger. He grabs me by the arms and pushes me against the wall. “You’ve been sneaking around seeing him. Who is he?” Hatred.

“Daddy, stop, you’re hurting me.” The tears are threatening to come but I refuse to give in to them. He’s just having one of his spells. “I met Tate this weekend. We’re going to dinner and a movie, nothing else.”

He squeezes my arms and give me an extra shove before letting go. “I’m not allowing you to get married until you’re twenty-five. If he comes to ask for your hand, I’m saying no.” He growls out every single word. Hostility.

I throw my arms around him, pulling him to me in a hug. “Daddy, it is just a date, not a proposal. I just met him, I promise. If he asks for my hand, please say no, because I’m not getting married, ever.” His body is shaking in my embrace so I hold on to him for a little longer, until he relaxes in my arms.

“You promise?” Remorse.

“Pinky swear,” I hold up my pinky and he takes it with him hooking them together. His shoulders relax and his troubled mind settles down.

The restaurant is five minutes away from the house. There’s no such thing as traffic in town on the weekends. Weekdays are different though, especially when it’s shift change on the base. There’s not any large businesses around other than the big box stores and seven hundred pawn shops. The rumors are that when airmen run out of money, they pawn off their video game consoles. The building isn’t fancy, but it doesn’t matter, it houses a Food Network award winning chef William Roloff. Rumor has it if you return a dinner to the kitchen, Chef Roloff will throw a tantrum and cuss like a sailor. The chef will take it out to you and wait for you take a bite. I’ve had dinner here once, it was before homecoming. Everything I don’t cook tastes good to me.

I try to think of anything but the outburst from my Dad or it will show all over my face. It has been so nice for him to be semi-normal and then his illness makes an appearance to remind me that he’s not normal.

I’m wearing a pair of heels that are higher than I normally pick to wear. I figure I can’t break my neck walking in them if I’m sitting in a movie theater. My white skirt is short and tight, maybe too tight for a second date but it looks so cute with the silver sequin tank top I picked. When Andy bought it last summer, I looked at her like she was crazy. The top was almost two hundred dollars and the shoes were three hundred. The skirt was on clearance for five dollars.

Tate walks over to my car and holds the door open for me as I get out. His eyes go straight to my legs and back up to my face.

“I didn’t think it was possible, but you’ve proven me wrong. In a good way, of course,” Tate says appreciatively.

“Oh yeah? What did I prove?”

“You were so pretty yesterday, but today, you’re exquisite,” he leans over and whispers in my ear. I’m not sure how, but the whole whispering thing he does, makes everything sound so much better.

I blush at my reaction and whisper thank you back to him.

The décor is simple and elegant. No booths, just tables with white tablecloths and linen napkins. It’s the first place I’ve ever been that didn’t have a children’s menu and chicken bites. Andy always said when in doubt, order the meal listed above the one my date orders. I tried that theory once, I ended up with hives and realized I’m allergic to oysters. If I weren’t afraid of kissing him, I’d order shrimp. Nothing says sexy like rotten seafood breath. Sounds like I’ll be a true Okie and order a steak and salad.

“How was your day?” Tate asks and takes a sip of his ice water.

“For the most part, it was good. What did you do today?”

“I went over to Don and Tracy’s and helped him build his back patio. He’s been building a fire-pit area and extending his deck for a hot tub he’s having installed next week. They’re pretty funny when they’ve spent too much time together. Most couples argue or go crazy, not them, they play practical jokes on each other. If Don can’t find anything to do, he will find a random bug and chase her around making her scream profanities.” Tate has a freckle over his eyebrow that gets lost when his forehead wrinkles. I’m sitting at dinner with the most beautiful person in the room and I’m paying attention to his freckle. Not his piercing eyes, or even his bright white teeth. No, silly me, is watching his freckle. “What are you thinking?” Tate asks.

“Don’t make me answer that question, please.” I give my pleading face but he just shakes his head.

“Spit it out.”

“Ugh. I was admiring your freckle over your eyebrow.”

“My freckle put that sweet look on your face? You’re easy to impress. Wait until you see my birthmark.” His eyebrow arches and I’m at a loss for words.

My hand goes to my mouth to hide my grin. “Birthmark huh? Where is it?”

“Maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you go exploring and find it yourself.”

My thoughts are written all over my face. I know it. I don’t have to guess how many shades of red I’ve turned. I know. “Good?”

“Beyond good,” he whispers.

Shit. He’s killing me.

The waiter comes over to take our order, we both order steak. I don’t know the difference in the cut of a steak so I picked the cheapest one. Tate didn’t, he ordered the most expensive steak that wasn’t surf and turf.