ten
While I wait outside for Danny to pick me up the next morning, I realize that it’s unusual that I didn’t struggle over my outfit. Nor did I think about it much. And now, I’m feeling like an asshole for wearing boring jeans and a white T-shirt and not even doing my hair. The messy bun I made without thinking feels unfamiliar, but it’s too late to do anything about it now. At least Shallots clearly doesn’t care because he bounds out of the truck the second that Danny’s truck reaches a full stop.
As I rub giant basset hound ears and laugh, Danny steps from his truck. I glance up. Only enough to see his work boots leaving tracks in the gravel but my heart pounds at an embarrassing speed. So, I stay focused on the dog, Danny notices my outfit too.
“You’re not wearing full Los Angeles gear?” he asks playfully.
It’s a full twenty more seconds of fussing over Shallots before I can look at him. At least I know I chose right when I got dressed. “I thought about it, and while I wanted to wear Chanel ankle boots, these seem to make more sense.” I stand and kick up a foot to show him my sensible sneakers. These are about the only sensible part of me right now.
The hints of hazel in his brown eyes catch sunlight as he laughs. “Good girl. Let’s go!”
As soon as I open the side door, Shallots attempts to climb in, but his short legs don’t lend themselves to a smooth transition.
“Do you mind giving him a boost?” Danny asks.
“No problem.” I help the dog into the truck, and he settles into the passenger seat, leaving me to wonder where I should sit.
“Sorry!” Danny pats the middle seat and tries to coax his buddy over. “He likes that spot. Hanging his head out of an open window is sort of his thing. Give him a little nudge.”
“Gotcha.”
That doesn’t work as Shallots is clearly not keen on sliding into the middle, but he does eventually let me scoop him into my lap while I take the passenger seat. For a small-looking dog, he weighs more than I would think, but I don’t mind the snuggly lump in my lap. I roll down the window, and immediately, he sticks his head out.
Danny cocks his head in surprise. “Well, that’s new. Not a dog who usually loves up to someone he’s just me. He clearly likes you.”
The truck revs away from the house, and I cannot help but giggle when we pick up a bit of speed and the dog’s ears flap in the wind.
“Do you ever worry that he’ll, you know, take off? Start flying away?”
“It has occurred to me.Shallots in the Skysounds like a movie title, right?” He waves a hand. “But I think he knows that I’d miss him too much, so he restrains himself.”
We bounce over winding dirt roads, and the feel of driving in this terrain is slowly coming back to me. The way it rips through my body so wonderfully. I hide my smile.
“Did you have Shallots when I lived here? Is he a family dog?”
“Nah. I rescued him from a shelter a few years ago.”
“Sorry. I’ve forgotten so much. About Wake, my life here…”
Shallots gives me an excuse to not look at Danny, so I fuss over the pup for a bit.
“Did I know your parents? Are they still here? Do you live at home? I mean, not that it would be a bad thing,” I stammer. “Obviously, I live at home, so no judgment.”My coolness is overwhelming.
Danny lifts his baseball hat and runs a hand through his hair. “My dad was never part of the picture, and I don’t even know who he is. I don’t think my mom even knows who he is. Which is disturbing but whatever. I guess I haven’t thought about him much because he’s never been in my life.” His feigned laugh is not lost on me. “But I don’t mind because my mom is cool as hell. She’s an artist. Mostly glassblowing work but some painting and other stuff on the side. Her work has been in such high demand, and it’s crazy. Teaching requests, magazine shoots and interviews, an invitation to a reality show even. It’s been nuts, but I’m so proud of her.”
“I’m not sure that I ever realized you didn’t have a father around. I guess as kids, we didn’t even question stuff like that. I’m sorry though. That can’t be easy. But your mom sounds awesome.”
However, now that I’m thinking about it, I can’t think of any time that I’ve seen or met Danny’s mother. Scrambling to remember her is scrambling my brain. As far as I can recall, Danny was always at birthday parties and school events by himself, but I might be forgetting a ton again.
“My mom has been in and out of town forever,” he continues. “Traveling for gallery showings and stuff. It’s always been like that. So, yeah, she isn’t always there for stuff, but I get it.”
“Glassblowing though, huh? That’s pretty obscure but so unique.” It takes me a second, but I remember something. “Oh, I went on a tour years ago! I’ve seen this. It’s, like, when an artist takes globs of molten glass at the end of a long pipe, blows into that lava stuff, and creates glass creations. Vases, bowls, glasses, sculptures.”
“That’s her!”
Suddenly, the truck bounces up and down, and I grab on to Shallots.
Danny laughs. “Sorry. A ditch that hasn’t been filled.”
