The Dance (49 page)

Me:
Hey, it’s been a month and a half. We need to talk and iron out details.

Will:
I’m swamped at work. Be able to take time after the holidays. Salary will still go in joint account, bills will be paid.

Me:
I appreciate that. I’m busy with work too but we really need to get the papers drawn up and move forward.

Will:
After the holidays.

“Exactly what are we doing here?” Sophie’s face scrunched up as she eyed rows of camping, fishing, and hunting gear.

It had just turned midnight and was officially Black Friday. Sophie and I had been going out on Black Friday since we were fifteen. When we first started the tradition we didn’t have any money so we weren’t interested in the sales. We just thought it was cool to be at the mall late at night/early in the morning, whichever way you wanted to look at it.

“I told you Hart and his friends are going on their annual fishing trip in a couple of weeks. And I wanted to put his Christmas present together and give it to him before they go so he can use it.”

“Let’s get crack-a-lackin’ and get this over with. The Coach store is calling my name.”

I checked my list then scanned the signs at the front of each aisle, hoping for some direction. I wasn’t a very outdoorsy person. I liked being outside when the weather was nice and I loved going to the beach. Sitting around the pool with a glass of wine always interested me. But growing up around my dad and brother who were big into camping and fishing, I’d picked up a few knowledgeable tidbits. So I wasn’t at a complete loss in a store like this.

As we headed down the first aisle, passing rack after rack of fishing vests and waders, I beamed with excitement. For weeks I’d been busting at the seams to go shopping for Hart’s first Christmas present from me. Work had been crazy busy for the past three weeks and was only going to get crazier with Christmas and New Year’s approaching. Nancy closed Thanksgiving and Christmas but that was it. I had to be at work by 8 a.m. So this would be the only chance I’d have to shop for Hart.

“Why don’t you just order this stuff online?” Sophie whined.

“Because I want to pick out each thing myself and hold it in my hand to make sure it’s exactly right.”

“Okaaay . . . what are you looking for?”

“I decided to get a bunch of small fishing items and put them in a Yeti cooler.”

“What’s that, some kind of Star Wars thingy?”

Ignoring her, I pushed my cart farther down the aisle.

“So, what’s the fo-wun-wun on the Slimy Bastard situation?”

“Nothing new to report. He doesn’t want to talk until after the holidays.”

“Fuck that. You need to go ahead and hire a lawyer, get the papers drawn up and serve his ass. And I swear to god, Bryson, if you don’t ask for what you’re entitled to I won’t be your friend anymore.”

“You’re lying.”

“True. But you get my point. Too bad you don’t have evidence of him sliding his sausage into some skank’s biscuit.”

My face crinkled. “Where the hell do you get these phrases from? Besides, he’s held strong in his denial of having sex the old-fashioned way with other women.”

“He’s a liar.”

“Maybe. But I’d like to hold on to that one belief he wouldn’t do that to me.”

Sophie was right about going ahead and getting a lawyer. I had to think of what was best for me. I just felt if Will and I could meet and discuss the details first before getting lawyers involved, it would make the process less complicated.

As we rounded the corner a giant wall of camouflage barreled toward us, almost knocking Sophie over.

“Whoa! Excuse me, darlin’,” the giant bear of a man drawled, as he placed his large hands around Sophie’s shoulders and steadied her.

Sophie pushed her index finger into the center of the bear’s chest and said, “Next time watch where you’re going, Grizzly Adams.”

A big toothy grin appeared from behind his bushy beard. Sophie was average height at 5’7”. Grizzly had to stretch to at least 6’4”. It was pretty comical to see a little thing like her threaten a giant.

“It won’t happen again. Scout’s honor.” He winked and headed in the direction we’d just come from.

Sophie’s gaze followed Grizzly all the way down the aisle. “Hmm . . . strong hands. Long fingers. Nice ass. Maybe there’s something to the great outdoors after all.”

Spotting my biggest item, I squealed and pushed my cart forward. “There it is!” I sucked my lower lip between my teeth and studied my options. “I know what size but not which color. Oh, maybe the pretty light blue one. It matches Hart’s eyes.”

“Uh-huh, cause that’s what all the dudes look for when purchasing their caveman crap.”

I gave her a sideways glance. Using the self-portrait feature on her iPhone as a mirror, Sophie adjusted a wide brim bush hat in pink camouflage, cocking it to the side of her head.

“I could totally pull this off, don’t you think?”

“I’m getting the white cooler.”

As we made our way around the store collecting the other items on my list, Sophie spotted Grizzly several times. Her flirting got bolder with each sighting. I was happy she found something to occupy her time while I got the rest of Hart’s gift. I paid for my stuff and was waiting at the entrance while Sophie leaned against the gun counter stroking Grizzly’s big long hunting rifle he’d just bought. When her violet eyes flitted in my direction I gave her the wrap-it- up sign.

After Sophie and the bear exchanged goodbyes, she headed toward me, smiling with something clutched between her fingers.

Swaying her hips, sounding like a bratty kid showing off, she sang, “Ah-ha! I got his digits . . . I’m gonna call him . . . he’s gonna come over. And. Then. I’ll. Climb. Him.”

I shook my head and headed out the store.

“I’m here! I’m here!” I yelled, shrugging off my coat as I ran into my mom’s kitchen.

She was dropping a stick of butter into the stainless steel mixing bowl. “Well, it’s about time. I was getting ready to send out a search party.” She turned on the big orange KitchenAid mixer.

Mom and I had planned our holiday cookie baking for this Sunday afternoon. I’d gotten delayed at work and was running an hour behind. I considered canceling but she was the better baker in the family, not me. And what’s Christmas without cookies? Plus, between work and my secret relationship, I hadn’t seen much of my parents.

I walked up next to her, raising my voice so she could hear me over the buzzing of the mixer. “I’m sorry. I got caught up at work. Whatcha need?”

“Measure out two and one-fourth cups of flour,” Mom said, as she creamed together the butter and powdered sugar for our Sands.

Technically, we were making traditional Mexican wedding cookies. But Mom always called them Sands for some reason.

I grabbed the measuring cup, a bowl, the sifter, and the flour then got to work.

She cut off the mixer and scraped the sides of the bowl with a spatula. “So, you’re staying busy at work?”

I dipped out a cup of flour and leveled it off. “Extremely. But I love it. I’m learning so much.”

“That’s great.” She flipped on the mixer.

We worked in comfortable silence for several minutes. The quieter buzz made it easier for us to chat and catch up. I was standing a few feet away from her, concentrating on my nut chopping when I felt her eyes on me.

Giving Mom a sideways glance, I asked, “Am I doing it wrong?”

“You’re doing a great job. I was just admiring your jacket.”

Since I was already late I didn’t bother going home to change. I was still wearing my uniform from work, which included black pants and the chef jacket Hart gave me. I hadn’t told my parents about Hart. One reason was because I was still legally married and I thought they’d be disappointed in me knowing I’d already moved on from Will. The other reason was, until I knew Will’s mind set regarding the settlement, I wasn’t going to flaunt my relationship with Hart in front of anyone.

“Thanks.”

“You look so good and professional in it. And it even has your name embroidered over the pocket. Did you get it from work?”

I didn’t want to lie to Mom. I still felt terrible keeping mine and Will’s separation a secret from her and Dad for so long. A lie by omission was still a lie in my book.

I exaggerated clearing my throat. “Mmm-hmm.” Quickly followed by a fit of coughing, hoping the phlegmy noise would drown out all other utterances. “Nuts are done!”

“Perfect timing.”

Once all the ingredients were mixed we got down to the business of making cookies.

“I ran into Susan Bovair the other day,” Mom said, rolling the dough between her palms.

I placed a Sand on the cookie sheet. “That’s nice.”

“You know her daughter Caitlyn had a baby a few months back.”

Scoop.
“I didn’t know that.”

Roll.
“They also just bought a new house.”

Drop.
“Good for them.”

I wasn’t exactly sure why Mom was telling me about Caitlyn Bovair now Merrick. She knew we weren’t friends. Caitlyn had been a bitch since the age of five.

Scoop.
“She and her husband . . . you know he’s a lawyer . . . moved to one of those very nice older neighborhoods in Mount Pleasant.”

For a second my hands stopped making cookies. There were a lot of nice older neighborhoods in Mount Pleasant. The chances of it being the same as Hart’s was slim. I scooped, rolled, and dropped as I gave Mom a sideways glance.

“In fact, Susan said Caitlyn told her she saw you coming out of the house across the street from hers.”

A knot took shape in my stomach.

Hold it together, Bryson.

Scoop.
“Yeah, a friend of mine lives there,” I said.

Roll.
“Who?”

Drop.
“No one you know.”

Scoop.
“Someone from work?”

Roll.
I sandwiched another noncommittal “Mmm-hmm” between a throat clear and cough.

Drop.
“It’s nice you’re enjoying girl time with your new friend.”

My cheeks flushed with heat. I was definitely enjoying girl time with my new friend.

Scoop.
“One curious thing, though. Caitlyn said she saw you coming out of the house around 7:30 in the morning.”

The heat from my cheeks spread to the rest of my body. I dropped my last Sand on the cookie sheet and washed my hands while I thought of a response.

Mom turned to face me. “Bryson?”

Drying my hands with the dish towel, I huffed nonchalantly. “Why does she have her big crooked nose . . .”

“Now you know she had that fixed.”

“. . . Smashed against the window first thing in the morning. I bet her new neighbors wouldn’t be too thrilled to know she was spying on them.”

“She was up with the baby and just happened to walk by the window when she saw you come out of that house. Why were you there that time of the day?”

Stalling, I tore the band out of my hair and redid my high ponytail.

“Bryson?”

“Fixing my hair, Mom.” I sounded a tad more annoyed than I meant to.