Here we go. I nodded but didn’t look at him. “I believe you.” I just didn’t want to carry around this fear that Dex would eventually get bored. He wasn’t my father, and every day I knew him better and better, that fact was cemented in place more firmly.
He plucked the fork from my hand before pulling it beneath the counter of the diner, setting it palm down right next to his groin. “Babe, you got me as much as I got you, and that shit’s not changin’, you understand? Not today, tomorrow, not ever.” He slid his hand over mine, cupping it firmly to the shape of his thigh. “Got it?”
“Dex,” I sighed.
“Ritz.”
“You can’t say stuff like that. You might get tired of me at some point.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I know exactly what I’m sayin’. I know exactly what I mean. Yeah?”
He wasn’t really asking, I knew that. So I also knew it was pointless to argue with him, and at the same time, it was pointless to make excuses as to why he couldn’t care for me like that. I’d never know unless I let him. I squeezed his thigh and nodded. “Yeah, I got it.” For good measure, I smiled. “Cutie.”
“Ritz,” he groaned, but I could tell by the look in his eye he didn’t care.
“Just kidding.” Taking my hand off his leg, I cut a neat triangle out of my blueberry pancakes before muttering under my breath, “Not really.”
That got a snort out of him.
The younger waitress that had been harassing Dex before made an appearance right then at a table on the opposite side of the diner. So I took the opportunity to make Dex laugh again. I think I enjoyed the sound way too much. “Dex?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“She’s back,” I whispered, and then paused. “I think I’m going to need your keys.”
And as always, he didn’t disappoint me with the loud, loud laugh that burst out of my reserved, broody man.
~ * ~ *
Three days passed and nothing.
No trace of him.
That son of a friggin' gun had disappeared and my irritation had reached a level never before seen courtesy of my short-lived period. That's how pissed off and stressed I was—my period had lasted half the time it normally did.
"We'll find him," Dex had assured me about a dozen times a day.
The problem was that it was incredibly hard to hold out hope of finding a man that excelled at disappearing. We'd met with Luther's friend the day before but the older man hadn't seen him either. Luckily for me and everyone else, the normally moody man that drove us from Delray to Boca to Deerfield Beach, was optimistic enough for the both of us.
There's no way he knew we were in Florida, of that I was certain. Luther's friend had promised us he'd been discreet, so it just had to be a coincidence he'd gone somewhere else.
At least that's what I really hoped.
~ * ~ *
"Never heard of 'im," the older biker drawled from over the rim of his highball glass, drinking something that was all amber and no ice.
I felt like a balloon that had gotten stabbed with a needle. Deflated. Completely deflated.
Dex shot me a look before extending his hand out to the crazy bearded man. "Thanks, brother."
Another bust. Again. How many was that today? Eight different bars in and around Hollywood? Who the hell even knew there was that many kind of bars here?
I shook the man's hand just like Dex had, and followed him back out. The man had been the last of the three we'd made an effort to zero in on at the bar. Follow his lead, he'd said, and I had. But we were coming up with nothing. Four days in my home state and nothing.
This sucked.
The moment I'd climbed into the truck and shut the door, Dex cut me a glance before reaching over to grab my hand. "You feel like doin' somethin’ else?"
I was too old to pout and cry about how unfair this crap was, so instead, I threaded my fingers through Dex's and sighed. I want to find my dad. But that wasn't happening. This entire trip had so far been a dead end. No dad. Painful memories. And food from places I'd gone to with Will hundreds of times that suddenly didn't seem anywhere near as delicious as they had months before.
All this driving around did was make me miss my mom and yia-yia more. That was probably what led me to open my mouth and suggest something for the first time since we'd started our search.
It was still early in the day. Only about six, so there should have been an hour of sunlight left...
"Do you mind if we go to the cemetery?" I asked Dex hesitantly.
"Why the hell would I mind, babe?" he asked, already putting the truck into reverse. "Tell me how to get there."
The cemetery was pretty close to where we were at. It seemed like I'd just been there yesterday. I didn't need a map or directions to instruct Dex on where to go. In no time, he was pulling into the long, winding drive through the grounds.
Until he wasn't.
He parked the truck along the ultra familiar drive. I could recognize the slight slope of the grounds even if I were blind. I got out and looked around, watching as Dex climbed out as well, his eyes wary and uncomfortable as they flitted over tombstone and tombstone.
"Are you okay?" I asked him after he'd taken a long gulp. He didn't look well.
"Yeah," was his simple answer.
Was he...uncomfortable? From what I could remember, his grandfather had died when he was a baby. All of his family members seemed to still be kicking, so the only thing I could come up with was that cemeteries freaked him out. There was nothing wrong with that.
But I kept my mouth shut and appreciated the gesture instead. "You can stay if you want, I won't be long," I told him,
Those dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You sure?"
I could see it on his face. Please be sure.
"Yeah, it's fine. Fifteen minutes tops."
It took him a second to agree but once he'd fed me a nod, I blew him a smile and started making my way toward the large tree that served as a marker to where my mom and yia-yia were buried together.
Months had done nothing to the lush grasses or the classy tombstones that my grandmother had paid for years in advance of her death. She had never found anything ironic about planning for her passing before she was even close to the day. I found the spot almost immediately, taking in the side by side headstones beckoning me forward.
In some sweet, romantic movie, there would be flowers from my dad on the grave with promises of love that could survive an apocalypse. Of a love that had no value for time and no understanding of death.
But there wasn't.
Not a weed. Not a live flower. Not even a dead flower. Or an old love note.
Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Grass and more perfectly manicured grass.
To say that it was disappointing would be the understatement of the week. Then again, what did I expect from a reigning disappointment of a human being?
I should know better.
It was almost an afterthought lowering myself to my knees when I came up to my mom and yia-yia's grave. Sweet but incredibly bitter. How many times had I sat here in the years after yia-yia had died asking for her moral and mental help with Will? Dozens?
Raising a brother was hard. It had always been hard, but after yia-yia died, it got even more difficult. Yet, somehow we'd found a way.
My hands brushed over the sticky green blades, feeling how closely cropped they were. Immaculate and untrodden. I suddenly wished, more than the hope of finding my dad, that I'd have either one of them around to tell me what I should do with this situation.