The Dance (50 page)

Then I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, unscrewed the top, and downed half of it. There was no way around this.

Mom wiped off her hands with the bottom of her apron. “Does it have anything to do with the glow you’ve been sporting around the last few times I’ve seen you?”

Dayum, she’s good.

I took a deep breath. “I . . . um . . . spent the . . . night at that . . . um . . . house with a friend. A
very special friend
from high school.”

I prayed Mom would get my implication and I wouldn’t have to actually say the words
, I was in that house having passionate mind-blowing sex with my boyfriend.

Her light brown eyebrows rose as her green eyes widened mimicking me. “Oh . . . Oh . . .” Her eyes finally flashed with understanding. “Ooooh.”

“I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you and Dad but . . .”

She waved her hand in the air to stop me. “Bryson, the only thing your father and I have ever wanted for you and your brother is happiness. Honey, I know this whole Will thing has you all confused . . .”

“Well, it hasn’t been easy.”

“Your father and I fully support you . . .”

“Thanks.”

“And if this is what makes you happy right now then more power to you. You’re an adult and your lifestyle is your choice.”

“What?”

“We love Sophie . . .”

My face scrunched together. “Excuse me?”

“Although, it’s a bit of a surprise. I mean she’s always been boy crazy.”

“Mom.”

“But hey, you could do a lot worse.”

“Mom! I need to explain.”

She placed her hands on my shoulders. “Honey, I’m your mother. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“Oh but I think I do.”

“Deep down there was always a part of me that knew.”

“What did you know?” My voice squeaked so high with confusion I didn’t recognize it. This conversation had traveled way out into left field and I needed to get it back on track. “Mom, sit down, please.”

I sat across from her at the small round kitchen table. “Sophie and I are not a couple.”

“Oh, I just assumed when you said a
very special friend
from high school . . .”

Each of my facial features scrunched up—my eyebrows, my nose, my mouth. “So me being in a lesbian relationship with Sophie was your go-to thought?”

“Well, Bryson, I’m sorry. But you have to admit you never had a lot of friends.” She snapped.

“Okay, I’ll give you that one.” I paused for a second collecting my thoughts. “His name is Hart Mitchell. He was in my senior class. The day Will was admitted to rehab, I ran into Hart. He’s director of the physical therapy department.” I inhaled as much oxygen as my lungs would hold for this next part. “Hart and I struck up a friendship and as time went on it developed into something more.” My eyes misted. “What I have with Hart is different . . . I’m different. He’s helped me find my confidence and strength. And gave me the courage to go after my dream. I’m in love with him, Mom.”

I searched her eyes for a reaction.

“First your marriage and now this. Why do you feel the need to keep things about your life from me and your father?” Her tone was more hurt than mad.

I gazed down at my fidgeting fingers as I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I was scared you’d be disappointed in me for failing at my marriage and falling into a relationship before the divorce was final.”

Mom was silent for several seconds, then said, “Did I ever tell you about Eddie Marlow?” A soft chuckle slipped from her lips. “Everyone used to call him Pickles.”

“Why Pickles?”

She cocked one eyebrow. “Don’t ask. Eddie was the boy I dated before your father.”

This shocked me.

“But I thought you and Daddy were high school sweethearts.”

“I started dating Eddie when we were sophomores. Our parents were very close and really wanted us to be a couple. Your dad’s family moved to Charleston the summer before our junior year.” A wistful expression drifted over her face. “The first time I saw the new boy in the school cafeteria my heart stopped for a second. When it started back up the pounding was so intense I almost fell over. Long story short, your father and I became close friends, nothing more. He was very respectful of mine and Eddie’s relationship. We were almost inseparable. The day after graduation Eddie took me out to dinner and proposed.”

A slight gasp escaped me.

“As I watched him get down on one knee, I grabbed his arm and stopped him. After Eddie dropped me at home, I got in my car and went over to your dad’s. When he opened the door, neither of us said a word. We just looked into each other’s eyes and the rest, as they say, was history. Bryson, the who and when of falling in love is unpredictable. But when you find that special person, the being in love is inevitable. I am extremely proud of the woman you’ve become. Don’t ever doubt that.”

I stood behind Mom. Leaning forward, I wrapped my arms around her and rested my chin on her shoulder.

“I love you,” I whispered.

She patted my arm. “I love you. And this young man of yours better be damn grateful to have you in his life.”

“He tells me he is all the time.”

Mom cleared her throat and stood. “Well, these cookies aren’t going to bake themselves.”

We broke the emotional moment and got back to work.

I’d been on my feet most of the day, so after the last batch of cookies went into the oven, I sat down at the table for a few minutes. Dad came in, grabbed a soda from the fridge, and stole one of the chocolate-chip cookies cooling. Before he made his getaway, he walked up behind Mom, who was standing at the sink. Dad whispered something in her ear that caused her to giggle then gave her a peck on the cheek before going back to whatever sport he was watching on TV. As I watched my parents interact something dawned on me. Mom had been brave enough to marry her Hart.

Beaming, I bounced with excitement on the sofa as each item was pulled from the large cooler.

“Oh my god, Bryson!” Hart said with astonishment holding up the fishing reel. “It’s a Shimano Tekota with 6.1 gear ratio. This is gonna be awesome with my spinnerbaits, jerkbaits, and swimming jigs.”

“I have no idea what you just said but . . . Yay!”

“The guys are already jealous that I have the most incredible and beautiful woman in my life. When they find out you gave me this, it’s gonna send them over the edge.”

Hart looked like a little boy as he dug deeper into his gift. With our relationship on the down low we wouldn’t be able to spend Christmas Day together. I would be with my family and Hart would be with Colin’s. We decided to celebrate our first Christmas since I wanted Hart to be able to use his gift on the annual fishing trip he took with the guys.

My life was complicated at the moment. But earlier today while I prepared dinner, I looked at Hart as he built us a fire and Butter gnawing one of her presents, and felt blessed. The sound of Hart caused my entire body to heat up with the love.

“Hot damn! A Jig-and-Pig. It’s ugly but it catches fish like a son of a bitch.” He leaned forward. “Come here. Thank you. The gift and you are perfect.” His tongue licked across my bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth.

A moan escaped me as the kiss grew deeper. Our lips stayed connected while I shifted from sitting on the sofa to Hart’s lap. After several minutes Hart pulled away coming up for air.

“You haven’t opened your present yet,” he said, reaching over to grab the silver wrapped box with blue ribbon. “Merry Christmas, Bryson.”

I wasn’t one of those women who slowly peeled back wrapping paper. I tore into that baby with lightning speed. I lifted the lid to find the most beautiful sterling silver bracelet with two charms. The circular charm was surrounded by blue and green diamonds reminding me of mine and Hart’s eyes. The other charm was a sterling silver chef’s hat.

“Hart . . . it’s . . . it’s gorgeous.”

“So it meets with your approval, Mistress?” He grinned.

“I love it.”

“I’ll add to it each year until it’s full. Then I’ll start another one. And another and another.”

Tingles ran through me whenever Hart talked about a future with me.

“It must have cost you a fortune.”

“Well, it’s actually a gift for both of us.”

Narrowing my eyes, my mouth formed into a straight line. “What are you talking about?”

The tip of his nose skimmed down my neck. “I was thinking you could wear the bracelet and nothing else for the rest of our holiday.”

“Why Hart Mitchell, are you trying to take advantage of me?”

“Every chance I get.”

Suddenly, Hart rolled the wheelchair backward, spun around, and popped a wheelie before carrying me to his bedroom. My high-pitched squeals echoed throughout the house.

Me:
Happy New Year. I hope you had a good holiday. When can we meet to discuss things?

Will:
I picked up some kind of bug over the holidays. Will let you know about meeting once I’m well.

And that’s pretty much how mine and Will’s texts went for the next four months. I was always the one who initiated contact and Will would make up some excuse for not meeting. As the weeks went on his response time to my texts got longer and longer. Sometimes I wouldn’t get a response for two weeks.

Hart, Sophie, and my parents all felt Will was avoiding dealing with the situation because he still had hope we could work things out. But he never made any attempt to get in touch with me nor did he come by the house to pick up any more of his clothes. As promised, his salary continued to be deposited so all the bills got paid on time. Nothing had really changed except that we were no longer living under the same roof.

My parents and Sophie felt I needed to go ahead and serve Will with divorce papers. Hart said I should do what was best for me in the timeframe that was comfortable for me. I wasn’t exactly sure where my hesitation was coming from. Maybe I still felt I owed it to Will to talk with him first instead of blindsiding him with legal documents. Or maybe it was the twinge of guilt I felt being happy and in love.

I was doing so well at work that Nancy added my recipe for Lowcountry shrimp and grits to her menu options and had put me in charge of a few small events.

Hart and I weren’t hiding our relationship but we were definitely keeping it low-key. Having a boyfriend would not go over well if by some chance Will was delusional and thought we might get back together. With each passing day, I fell deeper in love with Hart and we became more and more like a couple.

Squeeze.

Pump.

Squeeze.

Pump.

I tried to keep the rhythm slow and steady but my palms were getting sweaty and kept slipping. My damp face was like a magnet to the chunk of hair I didn’t secure well enough in my top knot. It kept falling and obstructing my vision. I puckered my bottom lip and blew out and up, attempting to get rid of the annoying strands. My neck was stiff, my shoulders tight, and my knees were aching from being in this position. But it was all worth it if it made Hart happy.

Cramp.

Cramp.

Cramp.