Page 42 of The Way We Touch
“Are you going to give it a try?” Garrett sits across the table from me, and it’s the night of Dylan’s Dare dish.
“Aunt Deedee said Oliver Duck is going to pee his pants tonight!” Kimmie Joy jumps to her feet on the bench beside her uncle, climbing onto his back as he explodes with a laugh.
“Dylan said that?” Garrett squints over his shoulder at his niece.
The little girl’s lips press together. “I wasn’t supposed to repeat it. Aunt Dylan said, ‘Kimmie Joy! Don’t you dare repeat that!’”
She does a pretty good imitation of Dylan’s voice in her little-girl scold, and her uncle lets out another big laugh. Then he points at me.
“You’d better sit this one out, Buttercup. Don’t want to melt your face off again.”
“Don’t call me Buttercup,” I clap back. “Speaking of, what’s Dylan’s middle name?”
“Why?” Garrett frowns.
“Kimmie keeps calling her Deedee, and I was wondering…”
“Lynn.”
“So the extra D is for Danger?”
“Dylan Danger?” Garrett laughs more. “I love it.”
“Danger Dylan!” Kimmie shouts, hopping off her uncle and taking off in the direction of the kitchen.
I imagine she’s going to tell Dylan what I said, and I watch where she goes, hoping to catch a glimpse of her aunt. I’m starting to feel like Deedee might be avoiding me after our late-night near-kiss. She’s gone every morning before we get up.
I know she’s helping Jack with his daughter during camp, but I haven’t even seen her in the evenings.
Garrett gave me her number a few days ago—so I could text her to get him some Icy Hot from the store. I’ve thought about using it again to apologize. The only problem is, I don’t want to apologize. I’m only sorry for not kissing her.
Kimmie disappears around a corner, and my eyes go to the bar, where Craig is popping the tops off of longneck beers as fast as he can. It’s a busy night, and everyone seems to be humming with excitement over the new dish.
I’m about to say fuck it and just ask Garrett if he knows where his sister is when rainbow disco lights flash above the bar, and Craig pulls out a mic I didn’t know existed.
“Are you readyyy to get heated?” he announces in a Michael-Buffer, pro-wrestling style.
Whistles rip across the room, and some people shout. The door to the patio where the pool tables are located opens, and patrons stream into the diner as a line of waitresses in cutoffs and tank tops carry out large bowls of what looks like mac & cheese with an orangey crust.
“I love that guy.” Garrett laughs as Allie takes over on the mic.
“Tonight’s dish is experts-only, folks. Dylan brought the heat with a special Carolina Reaper mac & cheese!” A low roar ripples through the crowd. “In case you missed it, the Reaper is listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as the hottest pepper in the world. But if you still want more, Oliver Duck, she made this special sauce of pure Reaper to shake on top.”
Everybody laughs as Kimmie takes the bottle from Allie and marches with it to a table in the middle of the room where a teenage boy sits with his arms crossed and an obstinate expression on his face.
“We’ve mixed it with heavy whipping cream and cheese, but that doesn’t kill the burn,” she continues. “As always we have ice cream cups and tomato juice. Don’t use water or beer to put out the flames. Let’s do this!”
My chest tightens as Dylan emerges from the kitchen, and I feel like a kid seeing his favorite toy on Christmas morning. My jaw clenches, and I’m on my feet. Then the music changes to The Red Hot Chili Peppers’ classic “Give it Away.”
“Aw, shit,” Garrett growls from behind me, getting out of his seat. “Let’s do this!”
I think he’s going to get us a bowl of the fiery dish, which the waitresses are scooping as fast as they can into plastic cups, while wearing plastic gloves.
What I don’t expect is half of them to drop the utensils, remove the gloves, and climb onto the bar led by Craig now wearing a blond wig, horns, and metallic lipstick.
They’re all dancing to the music like some kind of sexy Coyote Ugly dance line, and I shout with a laugh when Garrett stomps out of the kitchen in his own platinum-blond wig. He hops onto the bar behind Craig and starts grinding along with them.
I make my way closer to the commotion, unable to hide my laughter. “What the hell?”