Between Then & Now || Currently Editing for Wattys 2022

28.

There was no way in hell coffee was going to happen.

As much as I wanted to, I definitely couldn't go out with this pounding headache and nausea. I ended up texting Dante to tell him and, fortunately, he was understanding. But, man, that sucks.

Just when I found a good one.

There's a knock at my door, and I freeze where I stand in front of my sink, filling up my water jug for the fiftieth time that morning. Shit. Was I not supposed to park here? Am I technically loitering? And which two people in this town actually care enough about my stupid van to report me?

The knock comes again, and I sigh, turning off the water. Fortunately, I had managed to shower and get my shit together, so at least I wouldn't run into someone with a hatred for homeless people. Or at least not one who would take their prejudice out on me.

With a sigh, I slide the door open. "Hello?" My voice is irritated, and I stop, freezing in place as Dante smiles back up at me, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.

"Well, good morning to you, too." He chuckles, then lifts his phone up and glances down at the screen. "Or good afternoon. Thought I'd bring you your coffee." He holds the paper cup out to me, and I lean down to take it, smiling.

"Oh my god, I look like shit, I'm so sorry–" I start, and he turns his head, frowning and wrinkling his eyebrows.

"I don't think you look much different." His frown paints wrinkles across his forehead, and I drop my shoulders, aware that he's just being nice but relieved nonetheless.

"Thanks," I smile, then realize I've just let him stand outside. I glance over my shoulder, making sure the van was still presentable. "Um, you can come in for a bit if you want."

"Ah, a look into the great Mystery Machine?" His eyes brighten and he smiles, the silver earring in his ear dangling a bit. He claps his hands together and does a little bow. "I would be honored."

I chuckle and turn away, walking back over to the sink to continue filling the jug. "Don't get too excited," I add over my shoulder. "It's really nothing special."

"Ah, hell." I can hear him as he steps into the van. I let him take in the van in all its glory and smile. "No, this is sick. I get what Jo was saying now."

I turn the sink off and take the jug out of it. Dante is looking around the van, eyes studying the wooden paneling, the unmade bed, the counters. Thelma jumps off the bed, and, immediately, he crouches down onto his knees and holds a hand out for her to smell. "Hey, there, Scoob."

"God," I wrinkle my nose and chuckle. "Enough with the Scooby Doo jokes."

He laughs and pets Thelma as she jumps up, putting her front paws on his knees and licking his face. He makes a face, pulling away, but still pets her nonetheless. "Okay, okay." He stands up. "What's his name?"

"Her name is Thelma," I smile, setting my filled jug on the counter next to the sink. "Um, I actually found her behind a dumpster in Arizona."

"Thelma," he repeats, then grins. "Like Thelma and Louise?"

I blink. How did he know that? And why would he know that? A man? Watching a feminist film? And actually catching onto something that I had thought of in my freshly-graduated-film-nerd state of mind? "Um, yeah." I cross my arms and lean against the counter, looking at him as he puts his hands into the pockets of his black jeans. "How'd you know that? I mean, how do you know that movie?"

"It's a classic," he smirks. "Why wouldn't I know it?"

For a second, I think, and I realize he's right. Dumbfounded, I nod and step to the side. "You don't have to stand by the door, ya know? All awkward-like."

"Oh, no, it's okay." He smiles and nods over out the door to the Tavern. "I actually have to get to work in five. I just wanted to stop by and say bye before you left."

"Oh," I step forward and study him. My eyes trace his hairline, and I noticed a scar near his eyebrow I hadn't before. The way his eyes turn up a bit at the corner. A beauty mark on his chin. After a moment, I nod. "Right."

He nods and steps to his right then out the door of the van onto the ground below. Leaning against the door frame, I look down at him, arms crossed over my chest. He looks back up at me, one hand on either side of the door frame. "Sure you can't stay just a bit longer?"

A breeze catches the strands of my hair, fluttering them about, and I tilt my head. The gold flecks in his eyes dance about as my mind stops on a question I hadn't even considered.

One of Dante's dark eyebrows cocks up as he realizes that I'm genuinely contemplating. It's almost as though his whole face grins a bit, ears, eyebrows, eyes, cheeks, as he continues. "It's not like you have anywhere specific to be, right?"

"Right." I draw the word out, the corners of my own mouth pulling up, my eyes meeting his below. Thelma nudges my leg and, when I glance down at her, she's sitting patiently, tongue out, looking up at me, then back down to Dante. I follow her lead and meet his eyes again. With a grin, I say, "See you when you get off, Fawkes."

As I step back and begin sliding the door shut, Dante walking away, I can hear him giggle and, just loud enough for me to hear, "And I thought I had a good one with the Mystery Machine."