#oh look - DQ brothers on my dashboard

[veroinfaciem]

lil peek at doodles

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Somewhere Inside (Disuphere series #4) Chapter 28

(To listen, click here) - 16:18

Levi’s doing his best not to hyperly scan for Carla.  So far, she hasn’t shown up.  But he has seen people who look like her from a distance.  It’s enough to set his heart racing.

He’s planning to take his break at 11:30.  It’s just about then when he spots Dominique and Francesca behind one of his regulars - an elderly lady he loves - but who always wants quarters or dollars (depending) back for her smaller change.  It’s tedious.  But it makes her day, so Levi tries to be efficient.  Getting Betty what she needs and keeping the line moving.

Finally, the line is moving.  He gives Betty her change.  Checks out the grumpy guy behind Betty who’s bought out the snack cake aisle.  Then, Dominique and Francesca.  He waves.  Smiles.  But they’re both tense.  Dominique has sent Francesca ahead of her in line.

“What’s up?” Levi asks quietly.

“A store guy was following us…” Francesca warns.  “Dominique said I should go in front of her in case he’s still back there.”

Levi casually glances.  “Nope.  No store guy.”

“We didn’t break any rules,” Francesca insists as Dominique puts their bread, cereal and plastic container of donuts on the belt.

“I know,” Levi says, sympathetic.  “Listen, I’m about to take my break.  Wanna meet outside?  Maybe at the car?”

Dominique nods stiffly.  It’s not lost on Levi that she hasn’t said a word.  Just silently pays for the groceries.  She’s handing the money over when he catches sight of the tattoo on the inside of her wrist.  The date 4/26/11.  Almost ten years ago exactly.  He wonders what the significance is.

“We’ll meet you,” she says in a voice that’s eerily calm.  Her face is a practiced mask.  She smiles.  If he didn’t know her, he’d totally buy it.  “We’ll be out front.”

“Okay.”

--

Dominique’s not oblivious.  In fact, she’s the opposite.  She is painfully observant.  It’s why she noticed Levi noticing her tattoo, signifying her own baby’s approximated due date.  She’d had to wait until she was eighteen to get it - seven years after the fact.  But it was a small way to remember Taylor.

She swallows back the lump that’s risen to her throat.

“That guy called me your daughter…” Francesca points out, ogling the donuts in the bag.

Dominique blows out a breath.  “I know,” she says, forcing a smile.

“Did it hurt your feelings?  To have him say it?” Francesca wonders.

“Mm-mm,” Dominique denies.

“Then, why are you crying?” Francesca asks quietly.

Stunned, Dominique reaches up and touches her own face.  Feels her own tears there.  “It’s nothing,” she denies, smiling hard.

“Do you feel sad he said you had a kid like me?” Francesca asks bluntly.

“No, babe.  I don’t.  It’s not you, I promise.  It’s...I’m gonna tell you something that’s private.  Okay?  I had a baby once.  While it was still inside me, it died.  So, when he said daughter, I thought of her.”

“What’s her name?” Francesca asks.

“I like to keep that to myself.” Dominique insists, wiping her eyes.

She looks out at the parking lot, not forgetting to keep an eye out for Pearl’s mom.  Dominique sits still on the bench.  Francesca leans against her.

“I won’t ask her name anymore,” Francesca reassures.  “And I won’t share what you said with anybody.  I promise.  Not even Jesus or Mariana.”

“Thank you,” Dominique says, kissing her head.  “To be clear, though, I’d be lucky if my daughter had grown up to be anything like you.”

“Really?  You don’t think I’m not good enough because of CP?” Francesca asks.

“I think CP is part of what makes you good enough,” Dominique insists, kissing Francesca’s head.

“I really want a sloth,” Francesca sighs.  “Even a toy one or something.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause it’s slow like me,” Francesca says, matter-of-fact.

“Hmm.  Well, I will keep my eye out.”

By the time Levi’s outside Dominique’s tears are dry.  They walk across the parking lot to his car.

--

“I’m so sorry that guy followed you…” Levi apologizes.  “I tried to look into it, but I’m basically a peon, so…”

Francesca snickers.  “That sounds like a bad word…”

“It means, I don’t have much power,” Levi explains.  “It’s Spanish.”

“How are you doing?” Dominique asks.

“Well...I thought I saw my trauma once, from far away, but it wasn’t…” he shares.  Levi squints.  “Are you okay?” he asks Dominique.  “Your eyes are red…  Were you crying?”

“What if I was?” Dominique challenges.

“That’d be okay.  I’d wanna know if there was something I could do to help…” Levi ventures.

There’s silence until Francesca crinkles the SuperOne bag.  Levi looks in the rearview mirror.  Sees her stealthily sneaking a powdered sugar donut hole into her mouth.

He smiles.  “Can I have one?”

“Yeah, give Levi some.  It’s his lunch break,” Dominique says.

He accepts the plastic container and opens it.  Takes out a few.  Eats them.

“Does anybody want a piece of bread?  Francesca offers.  “Or some Frosted Mini Wheats?”

Dominique laughs.  “You are too much.  Levi, Francesca wants a sloth.  Did you know that?”

“I did not know that,” Levi answers.  It hasn’t escaped him that Dominique has dodged his question about helping...unless this is her answer.  Carrying on.  Not getting stuck in whatever happened.  He checks the clock on the dashboard.  “Listen, I gotta go back to work for another hour and fifteen.  He tosses the keys to Dominique.  “If you wanna drive around.”

“No, we’re staying…” Dominique insists.

“But the peon hates us…” Francesca points out.

“Hey!” Levi laughs.

“I meant the mean guy is the peon.  Because it sounds like pee on…” Francesca clarifies.

“Here.  Let me have your phone.  Can you keep it on you?” Dominique asks.

“On the DL…” Levi says, perplexed.

“Okay, so we’re in town.  That means I have service.  So we will text you.  Text me back if you need anything.”

“Can I have your phone?  I wanna add my number,” Francesca asks.

“Can you tell it to me fast?” Levi asks.

Francesca rattles off her number.  Then, Levi has to run to make it back to Lane 4 before he gets in major trouble.

--

The rest of his shift passes in a blur.  When he gets off at 1, he finds Dominique and Francesca still in the car out in the lot.  He checks his phone as he walks.  Finds silent videos of them smiling and waving.  Selfies.  And one text that reads:  we are still out side love francesca

“Thanks for these, guys,” Levi says, scooting into the driver’s side.

“No problem.” Francesca answers.

“Uh, are we still on for ice cream?  Somebody wants to know…” Dominique casts her gaze furtively behind them.

“Oh yeah.  Definitely still on for DQ.  It has food, too.  So we can pick up actual lunch.”

Honestly, all Levi wants is a large vanilla ice cream cone.  It’s simple, but it screams childhood to him.  And good memories.  They drive thru and Francesca gets a dilly bar.  Dominique gets a vanilla cone, too, but a small.  She offers money.  Levi notices how her hand trembles.

“I got it.  You got the groceries.  And we still have life jacket shopping.” Levi reassures.

“Are you sure?” Dominique checks.  “I don’t, like, owe you anything?”

“This is friendship stuff.  Debt doesn’t accumulate over friendship stuff,” Levi says simply.  Everybody gets their ice cream.  He pays. Then he tries to drive one-handed, while willing his ice cream not to melt all over him.

“This is a great lunch,” Francesca enthuses.

“Right?  Don’t tell your brother and sister,” Levi cautions, smiling.

“Except we don’t keep secrets.  Unless it’s like for respect.  Like if a person trusts you with their trauma stuff, you don’t go blab it.  But ice cream shouldn’t be a secret.” Francesca explains.

“I guess you’re right.  Tell them if you want,” Levi shrugs.  He can see Dominique passing napkins back to Francesca.

It’s a quiet ride out to Target in Baxter.  Levi pulls into the only open space he can see.  It’s a long way away from the door.

“Can I just stay in the car and wait?” Francesca asks.  Levi checks out the rearview mirror.  She’s half-lying on his backseat.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Dominique asks.

“Nothing, I just wanna stay here,” Francesca insists.

“You can tell us.  We won’t get mad.  I was really hoping to get you a life jacket you wanted.  Don’t you want that still?” Dominique checks.

“I do,” she sighs.  “But my legs are really tired,” she comments softly.

“You guys wait here,” Levi insists.  “I’ll be right back.”

--

“I don’t want a hospital wheelchair!” Francesca calls at Levi’s back.  She’s still lying down, practicing being a sloth.

“Hey,” Dominique reprimands.

“What?  I don’t.  They’re old.  And big.  And I can barely push them,” she complains.

“Okay, but don’t yell at Levi,” Dominique reasons.

“But I just did it ‘cause he was already far away…”

Just then, Levi’s back.  Francesca sits up.  He opens her door.  She looks out. Sees the thing.  For people with disabilities and also grandmas and grandpas that can’t walk long distances.

“That’s a Caroline’s Cart…” Francesca says, wary.

“Yeah, I was hoping it’d be free with how many people there are inside today.  Looks like we lucked out.”

“No,” Francesca denies.  

She sees Dominique look at her and cross her arms, like Francesca said something rude.  

“I mean, no thank you,” Francesca remembers.  “I’ll just wait for you guys out here.”

“Babe, we are not leaving you out here in the car alone.  Talk to us.” Dominique says, turned in her seat.  (Because Dominique probably knows if Moms ever found out Francesca got left in a car by herself, they’d get all angry about it.  And blame Francesca, probably.  Because that’s what always happens.)

“I can’t!  I can’t use that!  I’m not allowed!” Francesca screams, her voice breaking.  (She always talks too loud when she’s emotional.  It’s annoying but she can’t help it.)

“Who says?” Dominique asks, gentle.  Kind.  Her usual way, even though Francesca doesn’t deserve it.

“Moms…” Francesca pouts.  “They say I can walk, so it’s not for me.  I have to not use it so somebody else with a real disability will get to…”

“Babe, you have a real disability.  It means you get tired quicker because you use more energy for the same stuff we do.  Just because you can walk doesn’t mean you should exhaust yourself doing that, or wait in the car instead of coming inside with us.”

“I have to ask permission,” Francesca wipes her eyes.  “If Moms find out I’ll probably get yelled at.  If I asked first, maybe it won’t be so bad.  Can I call Mari? Or text her a picture of that with your phone and ask?

Dominique gives Francesca her phone, the code already put in.  Francesca takes a picture of the cart.  Types: Moms say no but can I use this?  My legs are really tired from walking.  This is Francesca.  Bye.

“Oh.  She might not get the text right away,” Levi says, worried.  “You guys don’t have cell service at your Grandpa’s right?”

Francesca’s shoulders slump.

“Can I forward this to Pearl?  Ask her to show Mariana?” Levi asks.

Francesa nods.  Dominique forwards  the text and the picture to Levi.  Levi sends it to Pearl.  In seconds there is a ping back:

Mariana’s face is there.  It’s a video.  “Don’t listen to Moms on this.  Use the thing.  It’s an accommodation.  We get to have those because we’re humans.  Love you.  Have fun with Dominique and Levi.  Bye.”

Slowly, Francesca gets out of the car.  The seat of the cart looks very high, but Levi says he can lift her if she’s okay with it.  She is.  Once she’s in, she buckles the one seatbelt across her lap just like in the car.

“Dominique can you push?” she asks.  Being in the cart means you’re breathing the same air, practically, as the person pushing.  Like almost face to face.  She trusts Levi.  But not as much as Dominique.

She nods and starts pushing.  It helps having Dominique right here to look at, because it distracts Francesca from anybody pointing or staring.  Francesca feels one person do it.  But she ignores them.

Levi leads the way to the kids’ section.

They find the life jackets.  And the size that fits Francesca.  There’s a gross red and yellow one.  A pink and purple one that’s too girly, Mom would say.  And a light green and light blue one.  “Can I have that last one?” she asks.

“Here.  Lean forward,” Dominique says helping her slip it on and zip it.  “How does it feel?”

“Like I can’t move very good.  It’s awkward.”

“Well, it has to be secure.  If it’s too big, you could slip out of it.” Dominique explains.  “Does it hurt anywhere?”

“No.” Francesca says.

“Okay.  This is the one you want then?” Dominique double checks.

Francesca nods.

“Wow, you definitely know what you want,” Levi sounds impressed.  He keeps looking over Francesca’s head and back and forth.

“What are you looking for?” she asks.

“Nothing,” he reassures, but it doesn’t look like nothing.

They don’t give her the money in the checkout and make her pay.  Dominique does.  When Francesca hears that the life jacket is $40, she almost tips over.  That would take her months to earn in allowance.

“It’s too expensive,” she whispers to Levi.  

“It’s fine.  What do you guys say?  It’s a basic need, right?  You need to be safe.  More than just on this trip.”

When Dominique doesn’t quite have enough money, Levi offers some, and Francesca feels terrible for being such a baby about the ugly life jacket at the cabin.  She shouldn’t have made a big deal.  Should have just worn it.

Francesca’s quiet as Dominique pushes the cart to the doors, and outside.  

“It belongs inside,” Francesca protests.

“I know.  I’ll run it back in,” Levi reassures.

He does.  There are a million things about this trip that Dominique and Levi act like are no big deal, but back at home?  They would be The Biggest Deal Ever.  

“What’s wrong, Francesca?” Dominique asks once they’re driving again.

“It’s too much…” she protests quietly.

“It’s not.  I wanted to do this for you.  Levi did, too, right?” Dominique asks.

“Definitely,” Levi says.  “You guys were there for me.  Now we wanna be there for you.”

“But I can’t ever pay you back.  I’d have to save every bit of my allowance until summer, and Moms always forget to give it to me anyway.”

“Remember what Levi said to me about the ice cream money?” Dominique reminds.

But Francesca can’t remember.  Her brain is too full of stress.  

“This is friendship stuff.  Friendship stuff means you don’t have to pay anything back…”

“But that’s so much money!” Francesca insists.  “It’s probably why Moms never got me one in the first place.”

“Babe, your safety matters.” Dominique insists.  “I’d buy you 100 life jackets, no question, if they’d keep you safe.”

Francesca blinks.  “That’s like… $400!”

“$4,000,” Levi corrects, but not in a mean way.

Dominique elbows him.  “Don’t tell her that!” she whispers, smiling.

Francesca’s eyes almost fall out of her head they are so wide.  That’s how shocked she is.

“You’re worth any price,” Dominique says, turning and looking Francesca right in the eyes.

“Thank you,” Francesca says softly.  “For buying me this.  I’ll take good care of it.”

“I know you will.  Thanks for coming with us today.” Dominique tells her.  “It was fun talking about sloths with you.”

Levi looks so confused.  “Did I miss something?  Are sloths a thing now?”

“You missed a lot about cute sloths,” Francesca insists.  “But don’t worry.  We’ll tell you everything.  First, there’s this really cute baby sloth…” she says.

And Francesca gets comfortable, talking.  Realizes that today with her friends was stressful, but it was also pretty great.