I know I left y'all shaking your heads when I explained how I stayed with Farley, my cheating ex-husband for nearly a decade.  And I'll be the first to agree with those who called me an idiot.  But I wised up. Or so I thought.

 

Enter Dougie Wilcox.  I had a crush on him through high school.  He was wrong in all the right ways.  Wore his shirts too tight, his jeans too low and he smoked cigarettes.  Now I'm not talking sneaking off behind the bushes smoking.  He would light up in gym class.

 

Red flags, yes.  But his hotness overruled those flags.  Of course, like everyone else, those hot bad boys tend to get a little flabby around the waist.  They still try to maintain the cool aura but it's a stretch for them.  Even Dougie Wilcox.  Yet, seeing him as a mere mortal some 15 years later, I still felt my pulse quicken when he spoke to me.

 

It was at work, The Little Eagle Gas and Go where I work 40 to 500 hours a week.  I was just about to close up and turn off the pumps when he strolled in.

 

"Am I too late?"

 

I looked him over and decided this just might be worth staying a little late.

 

"Today's your lucky day."  I smiled slightly so I didn't give my hand away. 

 

"I need twenty on pump seven and I'm gonna go grab some Buds."

 

I've never been scared to ask a guy out.   They either say yes or they don't.  No big deal. But at that moment I felt like seventeen-year old Miranda.  I felt tongue tied.

 

"You went to Patterson High school, didn't you" he asked as he put his twelve pack on the counter.

 

I nodded, tossed my hair casually over my shoulder.  "I sure did.  You look familiar, were you a student there?"

 

He didn't miss a beat. "I did, at least until I quit.  That place was lame.  Did you graduate?"

 

"By the skin of my teeth."

 

"What's your name?"

 

I was wearing a name tag but he didn't seem to notice so I tapped it.

 

"Mirina?"

 

"Miranda"

 

"Oh, sorry.  That's nice.  Sounds exotic."

 

This was going no where so I told seventeen-year old Miranda to step aside and let thirty-three year old Miranda ask him out.

 

"I get off in about twenty minutes.  You got any plans?"

 

Dougie grinned and shook his head.  "Damn, girl, were you this forward in high school?"

 

I could have taken it as an insult but I didn't.   "As a matter of fact no.  I waited for guys to ask me out.  I waited for a lot of things.  I now know that you can't wait for what you want.  You just go for it."

 

He slapped his hand on the counter and let go a laugh.  "Damn, girl."  He held up his other hand to high five me.  

 

And yes, any grown man who high fives a woman or says "damn girl" like he's a sista in the hood, should definitely be a red flag contender.  But I let it slide.  Spending some time with Dougie Wilcox, one of Patterson County High school's hottest guys, was a teenage fantasy fulfilled.

 

In two weeks time, he was unloading his truck into my trailer.  He pulled a picture I had of the tree of life down from behind the couch.  In its place, he put up a four foot long picture of a 1964 Mustang.

 

"Isn't she beautiful?" he asked.  He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. "Can you imagine me driving one of those?  Gawd, I'd look so good."

 

Apparently, he didn't notice me sitting beside him in this little fantasy.  But I did.  And if Dougie Wilcox wasn't careful, Miranda Jessup Buckley just might key his little fantasy car.

 

But like a good girlfriend, I gave him a little slack.  As egotistical and conceited as he was, he never cheated on me.

 

Dougie had one major flaw.  He wanted to be the star of the show.  He wanted the attention that he got throughout high school.  That kind of thing is cute ... at first, but after a couple of years? Not so much.

 

Which leads me to today.  And how Dougie Wilcox got my full attention.

 

 

Part 1 of 2