Page 28 of Hello Trouble
DELLA
I walked into my house after work Monday, hanging my keys on the hook by the door—it was a row of golden cats with their tales looping to form hooks. Seeing it brought a smile to my face. Swinging my gaze around my home, I noticed something out of place: a neat stack of boxes on my coffee table.
A pink sticky note stood out against the brown cardboard, and I went to get it, recognizing my mom’s perfect cursive handwriting.
Let’s fill these up on Wednesday. We need to get started, or it’s going to be way harder come moving time. Love you. - Mom
The back of the note stuck to my fingers. I could practically hear her stress through the note, see the way her head would tilt with concern and a little furrow would form between her pale-brown eyebrows.
Sighing heavily and shoving the note in my pocket, I picked up the boxes and brought them to my guest room. I didn’t want to think about moving right now. I wanted to think of my date with Hayes tonight. It was a simple meal at the diner, but my heart was soaring with so much hope.
Going to the spring festival with him had made the annual event infinitely more special than years before.
Especially with that kiss in the rain. I found myself wanting to experience even more of Cottonwood Falls through his unique lens.
How special would a trip to the diner be with him sitting across from me?
A small smile crossed my lips as I brushed my hands together to rid the dust from the boxes.
Hayes would be here in an hour. But since I couldn’t speed up the clock, I spent some time scrolling through unique sourdough recipes online.
And then I went to my bathroom and touched up my makeup, hoping Hayes would like what he saw when he picked me up.
That cliché about women always being late was totally false, because I was ready ten minutes early, sitting on my couch with my phone on my lap. It was taking just about all my strength not to peer out the crack in the curtains to watch his truck drive up.
A message in the group chat with my girlfriends interrupted my scrolling, and I switched over, seeing more texts coming in.
Henrietta: Good luck on your date tonight, Del! :)
Maggie: Send us a pic of your ‘fit! Bet you look gorgeous!
Larkin: Hoping you have a great time! Knox says Hayes is nervous! Hayes! Nervous! *mind blown emoji*
I smiled at that message, then held up the phone to snap a selfie. As the image was loading, a new message came through.
Liv: He better be nervous. He’s going out with the best catch in Cottonwood Falls. 3
I smiled at the thread, my eyes threatening to water. I had the best friends ever. The thought of leaving them made a lump form in my throat. Swallowing it down, I tapped a response on the screen.
Della: Thank you all 3 I’ll let you know how it goes!
I was about to click away to social media, but in a separate text thread, a new message came through.
Liv: Can you call me?
My eyebrows drew together as I tapped on her name to make the call. After a few rings, she answered, and I said, “Hey, everything okay?”
She seemed to hesitate for a moment. While I usually would have heard her children playing in the background, it was silent, like she’d stepped out just for this call.
“What?” I asked, growing more concerned. Was there something she wasn’t telling me?
“I know you’re excited to go out with Hayes...” She trailed off.
“But?” I prompted.
“He’s a great uncle and a good friend. He’d do anything for his brothers.” She hesitated again.
“What, Liv?” I pressed. “Just tell me.”
“I’m just not sure he’ll be a good boyfriend for you. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
My heart sank at her words. She knew Hayes better than I did.
But at the same time, going out with him the other night was the best date I’d had in a long time.
Something inside deflated. Was there something I was missing when it came to Hayes?
I always thought what you saw was what you got when it came to him, but Liv’s warning made me worry there was something darker hiding in the shadows.
“Just be careful, okay?” she asked.
I let out a soft sigh. “I will.”
But as I hung up, I thought, I didn’t want to be cautious. I wanted to go into something with hope, not with trepidation. Still, Liv’s words were ringing in my ear when the doorbell rang. Just moments ago, I might have rushed to the front door to greet him.
Now I had to take a deep breath and try to shake my worry before going to answer the door. Hayes stood on my porch, holding a white giftbag. Pasting a smile on my face, I said, “Come in.”
As he walked past me into my living room, I caught a hint of his cologne. It sent my ovaries standing to attention. Damn, he smelled amazing . “This is for you,” he said, passing me the gift bag.
“Thank you,” I said, taking it from him. I looked down at the tissue hiding its contents. “You really didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I wanted to. I got you flowers on Saturday, so I figured you didn’t need new ones yet, and chocolates seemed cliché.” He scratched the back of his neck shyly. It was adorable .
I smiled at him, saying, “You can never go wrong with chocolates. But I’m excited to see what this is. Can I open it?”
“Of course,” he replied, an eager but anxious cast to his gaze.
I pulled back the layers of white tissue paper and chuckled at the bag’s contents. “Really?” I looked up at him, finding a shit-eating grin on his face.
“It’s something I knew you’d like,” he teased.
I pulled out the cream-colored throw pillow and cackled at the design sublimated to the fabric. It was a perfect replica of his motorcycle helmet, middle finger sticker and all. He must have gotten Larkin to make the design for him because it looked like something she’d make on her Cricut.
“Way better than chocolates,” I said, still laughing.
“Come on,” he said. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“I sure am. But first...” I went to my couch, setting the throw pillow right in the middle. “Perfect.”
We walked outside, and he drove us to Woody’s.
When we got out, I noticed the parking lot was packed, with barely a spare space for his truck.
Hayes wasn’t soft launching our relationship one bit—but I suppose that had already happened at the festival.
Even my boss, Edna, had asked me about my “new beau” at work today.
“Ready?” Hayes asked.
I nodded, and he came around to get the door for me.
He even held my hand on the way inside, not letting go until we were tucked safely into a booth.
I settled into the pleather seat, taking in the familiar sights and sounds.
Agatha expertly flitting around to serve everyone, grease sizzling in the fryers, silverware clinking on plates, conversation, laughter. It felt better than home.
I smiled as I glanced around at so many familiar faces, then froze. Farther down the diner, I saw Bennett sitting at the counter, his back to us.
I expected to feel guilty, being here with Hayes in front of Bennett, considering how things ended, but... I didn’t. Even though I’d thought of Bennett as a “good guy,” he’d walked away without waiting for an explanation. And I was happy to be here with Hayes.
If he noticed me looking at Bennett, he didn’t show it. He passed me a menu across the table, and I looked it over, even though I could probably read it from memory. “Is it bad I always order the same thing?” I asked him.
He glanced over the menu at me. “Not if it tastes good every time.”
I laughed. “It does. It really does.”
“Then let’s get two of them,” he suggested with a smile. He tucked our menus back in the holder and said, “How was your day at work?”
I shrugged. “More or less the same.” Except the part where Edna offered me yet another raise to stay, but I couldn’t tell him that. Not yet. “You?”
He ran his fingers through his hair in a way that made me want to copy him. “Got to work on a European car today. Don’t see many of those around here.”
I quirked my lips into a teasing smile. “So you got to speak to a hubcap in French today?”
He snorted, like he was surprised at the joke. “Italian, actually.”
“Have you seen ‘Cars’? I watched it with Maya one time, and now I give all the cars I see voices.”
He raised his eyebrows at me. “You’re shitting me.”
“No. Look at that hunk of junk out there.” I pointed at an older truck with a smashed-in bumper and rust working its way over the hood. Making my voice sound old and haggard, I said, “These old wheels just don’t turn like they used to... Stay off my asphalt!”
He chuckled low.
And then I pointed at a cute yellow electric car, putting on a vocal fry. “I’m like, so happy summer is coming! I am over all this spring rain. It totally messes with my wax job.”
Hayes laughed again. “My motorcycle probably sounds like Magic Mike, then? It’s sexy as hell.”
I bit my bottom lip, deciding to be brave. “In that case, I think it sounds like you.”