Chapter

“I’m sorry I didn’t visit you Sunday,” Dove said, patting her mother’s hand.

“I’m just glad you called. I would’ve been afraid something was wrong.”

“To be honest, something was wrong. And I didn’t want to tell you till it was taken care of.”

“What is it, honey, honey, honey?”

“Well, I was being stalked. But they found the guy who did it, and he’s going to jail. I just didn’t want to bring him here. He’d be following me, after all.”

“Your bike was never stolen, was it?”

“I don’t even have a bike, Mom.”

“A bike? That’s what I figured.”

Dove felt slightly bad for lying to her mom. She should’ve known her mother would never believe it. But it still seemed best. She knew what stress could do to her mother. She didn’t regret it in the slightest. “Well, it’s all taken care of, so you have nothing to worry about.”

“Can I ask you something else?” her mother said, grabbing one hand between both of hers.

“Of course. What is it?”

“It—it—is there a man in your life?”

“Sort of. How did you know?” Dove asked, more than surprised.

“I may not know much, but I know my little girl.”

“I think you know more than you think you do.”

“You know it all makes me confused sometimes.”

“You can be confused and smart,” she answered. Dove hated when her mom talked down about herself. She knew she was an incredibly intelligent woman, and she wanted her to see it. Particularly when she was in her good frame of mind like lately.

“Will you tell me all about him? Who is it?”

“Nate O’Bannon.”

“Nate? Nate! Oh! He’s a good kid. You’ll be very happy with him.”

“Well, nothing has happened yet.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not going to. I’m sure everything will be great. I hope you know I still expect him to come see me.”

“Mom! Of course I’d bring him to come see you.”

“It wouldn’t embarrass you to bring your boyfriend to a group ho—home?”

“Nothing about you embarrasses me,” Dove answered. “Now, I need to get back home. There’s a lot going on, and tomorrow the trial starts. I need to practice my statement.” She had gone over it a hundred times, but she wanted to go over it a hundred more. What if she was the difference between a conviction and letting him walk? She couldn’t very well just let him go free.

“Statement? Statement. Will you be back Sunday? Even though that’s less than a week away?”

“Of course I’ll be back Sunday. I only miss for very big occasions.”

“I expect more information about this Nathaniel then.”

“I promise,” she said, and gave her mom a hug before letting herself out.

“Nate!” Jessica said, two days later, as they sat in the precinct.

“Yeah?” he asked, looking up from his report.

“The jury is in.”

“Well?”

“Well what?” Jessica said, with a wicked grin.

“What did it say?”

“Open-and-shut case; nothing for you to worry about.”

Nate jumped out of his seat. “Cover for me!” he said, beginning to run out of the room.

“What?”

“Cover for me! I think I’ll be back soon.”

He jumped into his own car and sped down the back roads towards Dove’s house. Every muscle in his body was taut. His knuckles were white on the black steering wheel and he considered stopping for flowers. He didn’t think he had the time, though. Not when he needed to feel her soft, smooth lips on his as soon as possible. Not when he needed to be trying her lasagna, and tell his friends she was his girlfriend, and show her off in the precinct when he kissed her goodbye before a big day of work.

He pulled into the driveway, then ran up to the door, knocking hard, incessantly.

“Yes?” Dove asked without opening the door.

“It’s Nate. Nathaniel. O’Bannon.” She opened the door. He thought of how beautiful she was, golden hair in curls and pure blue eyes. “I wanted to ask you out for lunch.” He found his breath catching even though he knew exactly what would happen. She would say yes, and everything would be perfect, and they would live happily ever after. God had arranged for them to be together, and they would be.

“Oh. Is this about the conviction? I heard what happened.” As if this could be about this conviction. Their relationship had stopped being related to the conviction a long time ago.

“It’s not about the conviction. It’s about you and me. Will you go out for lunch with me tomorrow?”

“Let’s make it dinner,” she said. Dinner sounded even better. They could spend more time eating and talking and laughing and enjoying each other’s company. Maybe she’d wear another dazzling dress.

“Great! Dinner. 6. I want to take you somewhere out of the city, where people won’t be watching.” He wanted to take her to somewhere nice, maybe even a little posh, and impress her socks off. Hopefully, with the dress, she wouldn’t be wearing any socks to begin with.

“I think I’d appreciate that,” she said.

“Great,” he said, and he leaned down and in, and a moment later, their lips touched.