Wait for It

by Mariana Zapata

I was in the middle of sprinkling cheese when Dallas slipped my plate out from in front of me and started adding food onto it. “You want more?” he asked me just as I set the plate in front of his grandmother. “Yes, please,” I said before telling him when to stop. No one, besides my mom, had ever served me food before. No one. His wife was an idiot. His wife was a giant, fucking idiot with a little crazy sprinkled in.

Trust felt a whole lot like love. You were giving someone a part of you, if you really thought about it.

And Josh and Lou had never told me anything about the clothes I wore—except for this one red dress I’d put on to go out with some friends from my going-out days that pretty much made me look like a prostitute. “No” was the one and only thing Josh had told me that night a year and a half ago before pointing in the direction of my room. “No, no, no,” he’d repeated again, shaking his head. “No, Aunt Di.”

And in that way that Josh and I had—my oldest nephew, my first real love—we hugged each other, side to side, by the car. While Louie might be the sun, Josh was the moon and the stars. He was my gravity, my tide, my ride or die. He was more like my little brother than my nephew, and in some ways, we had grown up together. I had loved him from the moment I laid eyes on him. Loved him from the moment I knew he was a spark of life, and I was going to love him every day of my life.

His body smacked into mine so hard, my spine hit the wall again. Josh hugged me like his life depended on it. He hugged me like he hadn’t since his dad died. The side of his cheek went right along my chest as he held me tight. “You’re better than my real mom, better than Mandy—” “Jesus, Josh. Don’t say stuff like that.” “Why? You always tell me not to lie,” he said into my chest as he hugged me. “I don’t like you crying. Don’t do it anymore.”

“I’ll quit,” he stated. “I can join another team,” my nephew offered, cracking my heart in half. “Joshy—” I started to say before I got cut off.

Real love was gritty. The real kind of love never quit. Someone who loved you would do what’s best for you; they’d stand up for you and sacrifice. Someone who loved you would face any inconvenience willingly. You didn’t know what love was until someone was willing to give up what they loved the most for you.

“Please, Josh.” “Why? So you can make her cry too?” my defender asked. “No. I’m not going to make her cry. I swear. You know me better than that,”

“Josh? Please?” was Dallas’s reply. “Don’t make her cry again,” my eleven-going-on-twenty-year-old nephew demanded. “She never cries.” That was a lie, but I appreciated why he’d gone with it.

I didn’t want Josh to think I couldn’t handle my own battles, even as I bled my feelings all over the place.

In the words of my abuela, que todos se vayan a la chingada.

I swallowed, my throat muscles bobbing hard, making me feel like I was trying to pass an egg, but really it was just my pride.

“I’m gonna hug you as long as you promise not to grab my ass, okay?” I almost laughed, but it sounded more like a broken croak.

“Go watch your boy.” When I didn’t say anything, he tipped his head to the side and lowered his face until it was inches from mine, his expression so tight I swore he looked furious. “Where’s that person who gave me a stare down and asked me if I wanted to be friends with her or if she should fuck off, hmm?”

He blinked and told me in that bossy, military voice, “Don’t leave.” I swallowed and couldn’t help but duck my head for a moment. “Don’t leave,” he repeated. One of those hands I’d admired a time or two came up and gently brushed my neck before dropping away. “I’ll talk to Josh after the game, but if you guys wanna quit, I can’t stop you. I’ll talk to Christy. We don’t treat each other like that here.” His thumb moved up to touch right beneath my chin. “I don’t want you to go anywhere if that means anything, Peach.”

But Dallas and Josh stayed off to the side, talking. From the looks on both of their faces—so, so serious—it was some deep shit. Some deep shit that involved me. I could tell from Josh’s initial body language that he was angry, but I could also tell from Dallas’s that the man had the patience of a saint.

“You sure?” he asked. “I’m positive. I want you to be happy.” I could come, mind my own business, not talk to anyone, and go home. For him, I could. He gave me that narrow side-eye I knew damn well he’d inherited from me. “I want you to be happy too.”

“You’ll tell me if you’re not happy?” “You of all people can tell when I’m not happy, J.” “Yeah,” he answered easily as if there was no other answer he could have possibly given.

“Fine then. One day you’ll find some poor idiot to love you.” She smiled at me, reaching her hand across the bed, and I took it. “If you don’t, we’ll pay someone to pretend they do.”

He wasn’t casually looking; he was definitely staring. I waved, and I was pretty sure he smiled.

Louie had come out of his room and invited Dallas to sit with him while I told him his daily Rodrigo story.

“I don’t think all those tattoos are good to have around kids, no?”

Officially dont like her

“You can be friends, but nothing else.”

The fuck bitch you are not the boss of her fuck off

Louie was holding on to one hand and Josh was next to me with his bag trailing behind him. The smile that came over Dallas’s face as he took us in was genuine.

I started to open my mouth and tell him he didn’t have to do that, but he frowned and gave me an exasperated expression. “I know you can do it by yourself, but I’m here. Let’s do it.”

“Do you do this for all the single parents on the team?” He smiled weakly, but more than likely it was just exhaustion. “Only the ones who feed me.

Fuck. My. Life. In. Half.

You don’t know anything about love if you aren’t willing to wait for it. Wait for it.

I don’t mind helping somebody out, and I never will, but I don’t want to be taken advantage of. It’s easier to do things on your terms than on someone else’s. I don’t want to give anyone the power over my life any more than I’ve already given her.

The knees on the side of my shoulders seemed to close in on me a little. “I’m ready to move on with my life with someone who doesn’t want to be with anyone else but me.”

His hand was gentle in my hair and on my ear as he moved one to the side. “I’m waiting until the divorce is official. I’ve never gone back on my word or my vows, even with someone who didn’t deserve it. I’d want that person I end up with to know they don’t ever have to doubt me.”

AAAAAAAHHHH

His next words didn’t make me like his imaginary next wife any more either. “I always figured I’d grow old with someone, so I need to make the next one count since it’s for keeps.”

“She wouldn’t be my first, but she’d be the only one who ever mattered. I think she could wait for the time to be right. I’d make sure she never regretted it.”

Dyingggggggg

“Diana, come ride up here so he can ride in the back with the boys,” Dallas suggested as he put the truck into park.

“Why doesn’t he want you to build it?” “A few years ago, I ordered him a bed online and built it for him. Tried building it for him. He jumped on it once and it collapsed. He hasn’t forgotten about it, and no matter how many times I tried to explain that the bed sucked, he still thinks I did something wrong and that’s why it broke,”

When I’d gone for the bill, Dallas had swept my hand to the side and said, “That’s cute.”

“He… hurt me toward the end of our relationship—” If Dallas was tall every day of his life, on this day, he seemed to grow half a foot taller. His spine extended, his posture turning into one that would belong perfectly on a statue. His Adam’s apple bobbed and his nostrils flared. And in the deepest voice I’d ever heard, he asked, “He hit you?” His question was pulled out like each word was its own sentence. “Yeah—” Those big hands fisted at his sides, and his neck went pink. “Which one is he?” “Dallas, stop, it isn’t him,” I said, reaching for his shirt and grabbing a handful of it. “It was a long time ago.” “A lifetime wouldn’t be long enough,” he ground out. “Which one is he, Diana?” “Please don’t. I’m not lying. I swear it’s not him. He doesn’t even live in Austin. That happened back when I lived in Fort Worth.” “Is it the guy over there in the green shirt?” “No—” “In the red shirt?” “Dallas, listen to me—” Was he shaking? “Stop being stubborn. It isn’t him. And even if it was, I pressed charges against him. He went to jail for a few months—” “Jail?” He turned around slowly to face me. His face… I’d never seen anything like it before, and I hoped I never did again. He was shaking. “Tell me what his name is, and I’ll put him six feet in the ground.”

Omggggg

“It’s like you’re purposely trying to get me to love you, Dallas. I swear to God. You don’t even want me to stick my hand down your pants. You want me to want it all,” I laughed, trying to make a joke but failing awfully.

he dipped his face closer to mine, his fingers going to my wrist in the same way I had gone for his, but he didn’t move away or let go of me. Our eyes were locked on each other, staring, intense, as he said, “Tell me what his name is, and I won’t say another word about it.” Trip was even closer. Shit. I whispered his name. “Jeremy.” And then his last name as Trip’s voice reached us.

The exhaled, “Jesus fucking Christ,” had me frowning at Dallas. I watched as both his hands went up to his head and he cupped each side of his skull, interlacing his fingers at the top. “What is it?” I asked, suddenly getting a little frustrated at his reaction. He didn’t seem to hear me as he sighed, the sound distraught and almost furious. “What the hell did I do?” I asked him, not understanding but wanting to. Dallas was still focused on the toolbox when he answered me, his voice thick and strained. “I can’t do this tonight, Diana. I can’t fucking do this right now.” “Do what?” “You’re—” He closed his eyes and covered them with his palms for a moment before dropping his arms at his sides. He finally raised his gaze to mine, something in those hazel irises looking pained as he said, “I’ll help you build it. Don’t ask your dad. I just can’t do it right now. Okay?” “That’s all right.” I took in his stricken features all over again. “Are you okay?” He lifted a hand but didn’t confirm yes or no. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He took a step back and eyed my toolbox one more time, his chest taking a big inhale and a bigger exhale. “Night.”

You can’t always wait for someone else to do the right thing when you can do it yourself.”

“And like my grandma used to tell me, the devil will probably kick me out of hell the day I die. I won’t go anywhere without a fight.” He eyed me quietly for a moment before asking, “You swear?” “I swear.” I touched his head, and he didn’t move away from me that time. “I’m sorry, okay?” “Me too. You’re not really dumb.”

“If something had happened….” He trailed off, the sound in his throat anguished. I reached toward his forearm. “You said your nana’s fine. You can’t think about what might have happened—” “It’s not Nana I’m thinking about, Diana!” he exploded, his entire body leaning toward me. “You don’t have to save the entire fucking world!” The breath left my lungs in a sharp inhale and I blinked up at the man radiating so much fucking fury, I didn’t know what to say or how to react. “If something had happened to you—” I choked. Me? He’d been worried about me too?

His fingers went to my chin, cupping it as he looked directly into my eyes. “If something happened to you, I wouldn’t be okay. I would never be okay,” he practically hissed.

“You didn’t have to do anything—” He stood up to his full height and stared me down. “Accept the help, Diana.”

“Fine, but I don’t want to make you feel weird either.” His reply was low and steady. “I’ve seen you in your underwear and combed nits out of your hair, baby. I think we’re past that.”

“You are so fucking stubborn,” I said. “Pot meet your kettle.”

“Thank you,” I said to Dallas. His blink was the second most innocent thing I’d ever seen after Louie’s. The corners of his mouth went up just a little as he said, “Anything for you.”

“I know. Me neither. I’m just busting your balls,” I told him, reaching over with my bad hand to touch the top of his. His eyes met mine; we were both smiling at each other. And in that moment, it was the most connected I’d ever felt to anyone. Anyone ever. God help me. It hit me. It hit me right then. I was crazy in love with this motherfucker. I really, really was.

“Jackson, back up now,” Dallas growled, already shoving his chair back. He didn’t move and neither did I. “Jack,” Dallas repeated in that bossy voice of his, getting to his feet.