14. Mae: Dylan Said What?

Mae – Dylan Said What?

Chapter fourteen

"Mina? Can I talk with you, please?" I hear Dean say. I turn to see Mina stomp into the kitchen. Her face is bright red, and her eyes look like she's been crying. "What's wrong?" I ask, instantly on edge. It's not the bees, is it? I race over to one of the drawers and grab her EpiPen.

She breathes in and out a few times, and it seems as though she's too angry to speak. Not her allergies, then, thankfully. I guide her to one of the chairs. Then, I bring her a glass of water. I rub soothing circles on her back as she drinks it.

When the crimson on her cheeks dies down a bit, I ask again, "What's wrong, love?"

My phone buzzes on the table. It's a notice from my bank.

Miss M. Dale, we are contacting you to notify you that the bank account ending in 4432 has insufficient…

Dang.

"Mom?" Mina asks. She looks worried, and I run a hand down her hair.

"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry. I'm listening." I put the phone in my pocket and look at her.

"Dylan just told me that he and his father are going to try and buy our land."

Her words aren't what I was expecting, and it takes me a moment to process them.

"What?" I smile nervously. "No, that can't be right." I look at Mina and then out the window to Dean and Dylan, arguing in the yard, and then back at Mina.

"I swear that's what he said." Mina sounds so sure, and my heart begins to race. "They're planning to build condos or something."

"No," I repeat. "That doesn't make any sense." This can't be true.

"Doesn't it, though?" Mina wipes a stray tear from her face with a fist. "Dean was so obsessed with owning a plot on this land, and when Grandpa beat him to the punch, he jumped to the next best thing and got the property next door. Why do you think that is? Because he wanted a foot in the game when it came to buying up everything else."

"But—"

Mina cuts me off. "And you've said it yourself how strange it is that they never seemed to fully move in. They're obviously only in this for the short-term gain of tearing all of our beautiful homes and farms down to build a bunch of tacky buildings for rich people to live in."

"Are you sure you didn't hear him wrong?" But dread is already forming in my gut.

"Pretty sure," Mina says, sniffling.

I squeeze her shoulder. "I'll go talk to Dean." Because this can't be right, Mina must have misunderstood. What kind of man would sweet talk his way into my—into our lives, only to tear it down around us?

I head outside and see Dean standing in front of the barn. He's running his hand through his hair, and from the looks of it, it isn't the first time. Dylan is nowhere to be seen.

"Hey," I say from behind him, with one arm crossed over my chest and supporting the other as I use my hand to keep the sun out of my eyes.

Dean turns his face towards me.

I haven't seen him since the whole girlfriend debacle. And he looks good in a white t-shirt that looks painted to his muscular chest, and jeans that highlight his slim waist and thick thighs. I mentally grab myself by the shoulders and shake. Now is not the time to be thinking about how handsome this guy looks.

"We need to talk," I say.

"I know." He doesn't look happy, and the dread inside me grows. "Shall we go over to mine?"

"Fine." It's best we don't do this in front of Grandpa Bob or Mina.

"I'll be right back," I holler.

Grandpa holds up a gloved hand and waves, smiling. "Sounds good."

I follow Dean into his house.

"So, I'm assuming Mina told you what Dylan said," Dean says, as soon as the door is shut.

"Yes," I admit, crossing my arms over my chest again. "How did you know?"

"I overheard them," he says. He's looking everywhere—at the faded green stove, at the rustic wood table, at the fridge humming away in the corner. Everywhere except at me.

"Okay," I say, my voice starting to get angry. "Well, is it all true?"

"Part of it," Dean admits.

"Which. Part?" I ask, the words coming through clenched teeth.

"The one about me buying this place as an investment."

"Okay…" So maybe Mina did misunderstand. Maybe Dean isn't out to buy our land.

"We haven't fully moved in because I don't know how long we're going to hold onto it."

I run a hand through my hair. "Why didn't you just tell me that?"

"I don't know. My explanation seemed easier."

I look at Dean. His silver eyes gaze back at me for a second and then shift away again. I knew there was something off about him from the start. He was hiding something then, and I can't say why, but I feel like he's still hiding something.

"But it also raised way more questions than it needed to," I argue.

"I guess," Dean shrugs. "I'm sorry. I didn't think it through." He doesn't sound very sorry.

"So, you aren't scheming behind our backs to somehow snatch our property from us?" I ask.

"N—no." He trips over the word, and I frown.

"No," he repeats more clearly.

"Why would Dylan say that then?" I ask.

I need to get to the bottom of this. Not just for my family and my daughter, but for myself. I trusted Dean. I was beginning to, though I hate to admit it, fall for him. If he was just using us…

"I don't know." Dean shrugs, moving further into the kitchen. He grabs a dirty plate from the table and turns his back on me so he can put it in the dishwasher. "He's a hormonal teenager. He says a lot of things that don't make sense. I'm not sure what he was even mad at Mina for."

"I'm not sure either. I'm just trying to figure out the truth behind what Dylan said to her."

My heart aches for Mina, though. I was so angry about what she told me that I didn't even realize why Dylan had told her this to begin with. Or what that would mean for their relationship.

"I already told you," Dean says. He's facing me, his arms crossed.

"I know. But it doesn't make sense," I say. "It's not like you've taken any care or time to update the place. How much money are you expecting to make off of the sale?"

"You're right." Dean's silver eyes flash in the kitchen light. "I haven't done anything yet. I'm still figuring all of that out."

"I don't know…" Something still seems off.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Dean says. His expression doesn't look very sorry.

This is the first exchange we've had where he's treating me like I'm a business associate instead of a person. His tone has remained neutral the entire time, and he hasn't tried to make a single joke—which isn't like him, even in stressful situations.

It's making me uncomfortable, so I change subjects.

"Are you done yet?" I ask, nodding toward his studio.

"I finished the first one. This is the second."

"Really? That's great." I try to sound cheerful, but my voice comes out flat.

Dean shrugs his shoulders. "Yeah, I guess. It has been fun."

"Well, that's really good. I'm glad."

We used to joke, but now we just sound like…well, I guess like neighbors.

"How's that blanket coming along?" he asks.

"Oh, fine. I'm not in a huge rush to make it. It's not like Mina will use it until the winter anyway." I don't know why I'm still here. Neither of us is smiling, and we're both standing in our own little corners of the kitchen.

"Right."

We both look to the driveway as the same car from yesterday pulls up.

"Well, I better leave you and your girlfriend…" I open the door.

"Wait," Dean's voice makes me pause. "What did you say? Did you say ‘girlfriend?'"

"Yeah," I smile at him. I know it probably looks forced.

He laughs. His genuine, deep laugh, and a shiver, runs through me. "Oh, no, no, no. She's my assistant."

"But—" I pause for a second. "But the two of you seem so comfortable around each other."

"Yeah, you tend to act that way around someone you've known and trusted for decades." Dean is smiling at me again. A smile that makes his silver eyes crinkle in pleasure.

"What about the paint on her hand and your face?" I ask. I spent all night crying over this man. If I were wrong, that would make me seem so silly.

"Uh…well, she insisted on helping put my paints away. She's kind of anal like that. And as far as the handprint goes, I'm pretty sure it was my own." He then demonstrates how he usually observes his paintings, with his left hand resting palm up on the right side of his face. "I know it's weird. But it's just always how I've stood. I think it helps me think."

"Hmm." Everything he's said does make sense, but there's still something he isn't telling me.

"Come on," Dean puts a hand on my lower back and pushes me out the door. The warmth of it sends a fiery heat through my body. "Come meet her. See for yourself."

We both go outside to greet the woman I mistook for his girlfriend.

"You'll never believe it, Coral," Dean says, with his arm around my shoulders. My face must be as red as a tomato right now.

"What?" She asks. She turns to look at me, and I give her a weak smile. She's beautiful, and a part of me doesn't believe they can't just be friends. I know, of course, that women and men can just be friends, but they look so good together. And there's still something Dean is hiding from me…

"Mae thought you were my lover."

"Eww. What?" Coral's face scrunches in disgust.

"Well…" I murmur.

"Oh gosh, no. I've been married for almost twenty-five years, and we have five children."

"Wow," I laugh, feeling like a massive weight has been lifted from my shoulders. "That sounds stressful."

"It is," Coral nods. "Especially since I basically have six counting this dummy." She takes her hip and bumps it against Dean's.

"Hey!" Dean shouts at her.

"I'm just kidding. But I do sometimes feel like your mother. Especially when I have to remind you about your doctor and dentist appointments."

"Hey, what's the hold-up!" Gramp yells from our garden. He's standing with one hand raised to block out the sun.

Dean waves at him and pulls a pair of tan gloves from the back of his jeans. "I should probably get back to helping Bob," he suggests.

The three of us walk back over to the garden.

"Are you okay?" I ask. Grandpa Bob's sweating, and I worry that the heat and exertion might be affecting his heart.

"I'm fine, sweetheart." He waves me off.

"You sure?" I ask. "Why don't you let me go get you some water."

"No need. I have a Thermos right here." He bends down and picks up a canteen.

"Is it full?" I ask.

"There's enough. Don't worry."

I can't help but worry. What would I do if something happened to Grandpa?

"Okay, let me know."

"So, you also know what it feels like to look over a grown man," Coral jokes—bumping her shoulder against mine in a friendly way.

"Yeah," I say with a little laugh. "But he deserves it. He raised me."

"Really?" she asks. "That explains why you're so close."

"Yeah, I guess. So, listen," the wind blows my hair in my face, and I have to push it away. "Dean told me all about his plan."

She looks surprised. "He did?"

"Yeah. It's nice to finally know the truth. It makes some of his odd behavior a little more understandable."

"I see…" She's looking at me with an unreadable expression. Was I right? Is there something else Dean isn't telling me?

"So, yeah," I press on. "I just wanted to let you know that the secret's out there. I assume you know about it."

"Well, of course. It's my job to know things like that," Coral says.

"Right." I search her face for some kind of hint, but she's totally composed.

"Okay, maybe you were right," Grandpa Bob comes over and rests on a nearby wooden fence. "I could use a little rest."

"Thank you. That makes me feel better."

"I'll let the young guy do most of the work," Grandpa says, pointing toward Dean, who's still bent over, clearing out the weeds. I have to admit, it's a pretty nice view.

"Helloooo," Coral says, bringing me back to the conversation at hand.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Where are my manners? Grandpa, this is Coral, Dean's assistant." I emphasize the last word so he gets the picture.

"Ah! Okay." Grandpa gives me a knowing grin.

"And Coral, this is my handsome grandfather, Bob."

They shake hands.

"It's very nice to meet you," he tells Coral, with a sweet smile. With that expression, it's easy to believe his stories about being a lady's man. Until he met my grandmother, that is.

"You as well," Coral says. "So, how much are you thinking of selling for?

The question catches me off guard. Grandpa Bob and I look at each other in confusion.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Hey, Coral!" Dean calls out at the same time. "Do you want to give me a hand? You said you wanted to learn a little bit about owning a garden. And Bob's is the best." He has a bright smile on his face that looks a little forced.

"I never—"

"Just please come here," he calls out again, cutting Coral off.

She pouts her bottom lip in protest but compiles and walks over.

"What the heck was that all about?" Grandpa asks.

"I truly have no idea." I watch them talk to each other. "Dean just assured me they weren't planning to take our house and land."

"What?" I forgot he doesn't know what's been happening in the last hour. "Maybe the wires are crossed, and she's mistaken?"

"Or he's lying?" As I say it, I feel the truth in the words.

"Or that," he agrees.

"I just don't know what to make of him. There seem to be so many secrets." And yet, he's talked about things with me that he says he hasn't spoken to anyone else about. I don't think I've met a man who's confused me more than Dean Cornel.

"I feel that too."

"What do you think we should do?" I ask my grandpa, who takes another sip of his canteen.

"I don't know," he says after pausing to think momentarily.

"Mina said that Dylan told her they were going to build condominiums," I tell him.

"Well, in that case, we'll have to pay close attention to city and other local meetings. Make sure that if someone petitions to rezone our area, we'll be there to object." Grandpa Bob has a frown on his face. I know how important buying this land was to him. How important it's become to our small family.

"They could just do that?" I ask.

"Men with money have the power to do just about anything they want."

"Ugh." As frustrating as it is, I know he's right. I only worked with corporate law at the firm, but maybe it's time I expand my knowledge, just in case.

"But the good news is that he doesn't have a girlfriend, right?" He gives me a smile and waggles his eyebrows.

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, right. Like I'd go for him now anyway."

"Well, let's hope that whatever he isn't telling us isn't too nefarious. Then maybe you kids can work things out."

"What?" I laugh. "How can you say that?"

Dean might be as hot as the sun, but how could I ever trust him after all this? I glance at him and Coral. They still look like they're talking about something serious.

Grandpa takes a seat on the porch steps, so I join him. He grabs my hand and asks, "Have I ever told you how I met your grandmother?"

"Yes," I say with a laugh. I've heard the story so many times I could probably recite it by heart. But I know he wants to tell me again. "But it's been a while," I say. "Remind me?"

"Well, your grandmother was living in an apartment with her friends. It was right next to the one I shared with my buddies. One night, we were throwing a party, and your grandma and her friends knocked on our door and complained that we were being too loud. We accused them of being prudes and said we had every right to keep partying. We even turned up the music."

"Grandpa!" I shout. I didn't know about the last part.

"I know. I was a smart aleck back then. It took her to straighten me out. Anyway, they threatened to call the police. Somehow, we charmed them into the party and got them dancing. Luck just so had it that the woman dancing with me would end up being my future bride."

"So, how did things go from you being hostile neighbors to falling in love?"

"Oh, Mae," he says with a shake of his head. "Have you never danced with a man?"

"I mean, sure. I went to prom with Carlos." Of course, I was also pregnant with Mina at the time, so it was more uncomfortable than fun.

"I don't mean the little kiddy shifting and swaying. I mean real dancing."

"I guess not…"

"Figures." He's dusting the hay and leaves off his pants. "Otherwise, you'd never have to ask me that question."

We lapse into an easy silence after that. My grandpa closes his eyes for a little cat nap, and I gaze out across our land.

What would it be like to dance with Dean? To have his body pressed against mine? His strong arms wrapped around my waist as he guides me across the dance floor. Our chests heaving, our faces getting closer and closer until our lips brush against each other.

"What do you think, Bob?" Dean calls through a labored breath.

Grandpa opens one eye and then stands, walking over to Dean. "Looks good. Thanks," Grandpa Bob says, upon inspection of the area. He fishes a quarter out of his pocket and hands it to Dean. "Don't spend it all at once."

Dean takes it out of his palm and laughs. "What a livable wage!"

I do my best to smile, but I really want to get in Dean's face and confront him about his continual lies. Something may be sizzling between us, but Dean's hiding something. I know he is. I just don't have enough evidence to call him out on it…yet.

I leave the boys to their conversation and head back inside to get started on dinner.

"Well?" Mina asks when I enter the kitchen. She looks much better now. Her eyes are dry and not nearly as red.

"He denied trying to get his hands on our property," I say, grabbing some chicken thighs from the fridge.

"But Dylan said—"

"I know," I say to Mina. "I know. Don't worry, honey. Whatever he's up to, I won't let him get away with it." I wrap her in my arms. "Dean Cornel has met his match. You can trust and believe that."

As I speak, I'm wringing my hands together like some kind of cartoon villain, making her laugh.