Dance and Be Glad

by Melissa Wardwell

  “You’re a good man to raise your brother’s child. It can’t be easy.

  “So back to the dancer,” he tilted his head to indicate Jill. “I’ve watched her for a couple of years. We talk. She is precious, but broken. If you care for her, do so wholeheartedly. That woman deserves only the best.”

  “She is only a friend…”

  “For now,” Eugene winked at Mike and nodded his head. “I’ve lived long enough to pick up on those signs.”

  Not knowing what to say, Mike prayed for a distraction. At that moment, Jill flew out the studio door in her black knee-length leggings and green form-fitting knit top with her red ponytail swinging across her back. His mouth went dry while his palms began to sweat. Not the distraction he expected.

  She turned and caught sight of Mike and Eugene on the bench. “Oh! Good morning gentlemen,” she greeted them with a dazzling smile. “What kind of stories are you filling his head with Eugene?” she asked as she leaned over the old man and hugged his neck. Her compassion was refreshing but Mike saw that only her pretty mouth smiled.

  Eugene gave a flirty response that Mike wished he had heard.

  “Right, Mike?” Eugene’s voice broke Mike’s trance.

  “Um, right. I think.”

  “I think you’re not awake yet,” Jill teased. “What are you doing in town? Not working today?”

  “No, I have the day off. I was coming in to see what needs to be done to the office yet.” Mike could feel Eugene’s eyes on them as they held each other’s gaze.

  “Well, you two have a good day. I’ll see you around, Mike. It was good to see you,” she stated as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear and walked away before he could respond.

  “You make her as uneasy and she makes you. You’ve both been bit, my dear boy,” Eugene slapped Mike on the back a little stronger than anticipated. “I told you, I see things.”

  Eager to change the subject, Mike directed Eugene’s focus back to the story. “Is your wife still with us?”

  “I see what you just did, but I’ll let it slide.

  “Peggy passed a year ago. I prayed that God would take me too, but apparently He had other plans. I have no clue what He would want with this old codger, but I hope He is almost done with me. I’m tired.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss. I’m glad you’re here. I needed this talk.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mike pondered on a wondering question for a moment. “What brought you the most joy in your life, Eugene?”

  “Besides my relationship with God, I would have to say the love of a good woman. Loving your children is one thing, but making the choice to love someone who shares no DNA with you is an alluring thing. Those two things are what will keep a man strong and feeling like he can conquer the world.”

  Eugene let the thought hang in the air between them.

  “Well, time for this rambling old man to head home. Will I see you back here next week?”

  “I hope to. I work at the hospital still. Not sure what next week holds.”

  Eugene gingerly stood, put the hat that Mike missed on his head and nimbly walked down the sidewalk; the click of his cane tapping the pavement with every other step.

  Mike stepped inside the office and a sense that things were about to change hit him in the chest like a ton of bricks. Eugene’s words of wisdom reverberated in his head. A strong relationship with God and the love of a good woman. Mike knew without a doubt that one of those was on uneasy ground while the other didn’t even exist. Maybe someday.

  *****

  As Jill walked to her truck, her phone rang a pop ditty from the pocket of her purse. As she approached her truck, she pulled the device from her pocket and pushed send to answer.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, it’s Tiff. You have time for coffee?”

  Jill unlocked the truck, tossed her purse across the cab and looked down at her clothing.

  “I just left the studio after working out some routines. I can meet you in about an hour. I really need to clean up.”

  “Sure, clean up first, please. I have an interview for a new worker in five minutes anyway. Meet at the new coffee shop in Owosso? Foster Coffee Company.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “I’ll see you soon.”

  “You bet.”

  The line went dead and Jill hopped into the truck.

  Forty-five minutes later, she was halfway to the coffee shop when a text came through. She hated when people texted her and she couldn’t respond right away. She had a business to run and prompt responses meant more business. She resisted the urge to look at her phone nonetheless until she arrived in front of the hipster-style coffee shop.

  Tiffany: Running late.

  Jill: No prob. I have a book.

  Jill knew that Tiffany was prone to being late whether it was a good reason or not.

  The little coffee shop was nestled between a Louisiana-style restaurant and a counseling service. Its trendy style construction stood out in the downtown area. The sun was high and bright, warming the air sooner than normal for a March early afternoon. The normally all glass wall was pushed to the side like an accordion, bringing the outdoors in. It was the only storefront like it in the area and it gave the downtown a fresh new look.

  Intricate tiling beneath her feet featuring the business’ name with distressed wood flooring through the rest of the space helped to set the tone of the cafe’. The single brick wall was battered but gave a certain charm to the space. Bar top seating, tables and chairs scattered throughout while a table stretched across the back of the space for large groups or communal fellowship. There was also a small seating area with high back chairs, making it all very trendy while holding true the community the business was in. Jill loved it.

  Approaching the counter, she glanced over the menu. This was her first visit, but it was her friend’s favorite new place for coffee. Choosing to give it a try, she ordered the Colombian single origin pour over coffee. She watched in wonder as they prepared her drink. It didn’t come from a coffee dispenser like normal, but slow brewed by hand as they poured hot water from a metal kettle over fresh ground coffee. Slow and steady, the barista poured the water in a circular motion. It was truly an art form. They presented her the coffee with a smile and she selected a high back, overstuffed chair in the back of the establishment. The space was similar to a small living room; cozy and inviting. It seemed quieter and the chair looked more comfortable than the ones that surrounded the tables.

  Jill pulled out her latest novel selection, slunk down in the chair and began to read. Losing track of time, approaching footsteps broke her concentration on the gripping novel. When she looked up expecting to see Tiffany, but instead, she was gazing into the graying blue eyes of Mike. Her heart skipped a beat and she found it hard to talk to greet him. The way the natural light surrounded him made his hair glisten and highlighted all his best features. He sure had aged handsomely.

  “Fancy meeting you here. Are you stalking me?” he asked with a hint of laughter in his voice.

  Jill cleared her throat to break up the tightness in her vocal. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking that? You were the one watching me through the window of the dance studio only an hour ago.”

  “You win. Sorry if I offended.” Mike pointed to the seat across from her, “This seat taken?”

  “Not at the moment, but it will be soon. I’m waiting for Tiffany.”

  “Oh, good. I was hoping to catch her. I had a question for her anyway,” Mike stated as he sat down, next to her. Their knees touched under the small square table and her heart galloped.

  They sat in silence as seconds ticked away. Neither one knew what to say to each other but couldn’t seem to take their eyes off the other with smiles on their faces.

  “So how have things been, Red.”

  Red, a nickname she hadn't heard in a long time, until he had said it the other day. Hearing the name cross his lips amplified the funny things he was already doing to
her. Jill shifted in her chair to shake the nervous tension.

  “Sorry if that made you uneasy, Jill. I guess when I look at you, I think like a lovesick boy.” He gave her a hesitant look then shifted his gaze to the cup in his hands.

  “It’s okay, really. I know some old habits die hard.” She did her best to give him a reassuring smile. They were friends which meant there was no need for the awkwardness. Right?

  “Or never die at all.”

  She caught his meaning, but didn’t have it in her to discuss anything. There was nothing to discuss; she was final in what she had told him in Emma and Ryan’s driveway.

  “I see I’ve been replaced already,” Tiffany joked from behind Mike. Though her line of sight was straight to the doors, she had been so fixated on Mike that she hadn’t seen Tiffany walk in.

  Jill rose and they hugged like they hadn’t seen each other in years when they were together just two weeks ago. “It is good to see you, Tiff.” Jill turned her head into Tiffany’s ear, whispering, “You just saved me.”

  “Anytime, sister,” she whispered back.

  “You two going to keep whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ears? If so, can I get in on it? I’m kind of feeling left out over here.” Laughter erupted between the women as Mike did his best to keep his face straight and serious. He failed.

  Tiffany pulled up a chair and the three made small talk. Mike asked if Tiffany, a licensed contractor, could finish up the remodel of the building. She told him she could get the main floor completed by the end of the month, but the upper level would have to be in spurts. Tiffany had just bought a large home about five minutes from the coffee shop. She received a grant to restore the house since it was a historical home. Jill had to smile at how animated Tiffany was as she talked about all she would do and Mike looked like a kid in a candy store with every new detail described to him. Seeing him smiling like that was nice; maybe a little too nice. His smile haunted her more now than her deceased husband.

  “Well, I’ll leave you two ladies to have your girl talk. It was nice chatting.” Mike got up from his chair, nodded his goodbye and went for his car. Jill watched him and couldn’t deny that the jeans he had on fit nicely.

  “Girl, you look any harder, you’d be called a perv.” Tiffany snapped her fingers in front of Jill’s face. “Snap out of it.”

  Jill loved meeting up with Tiffany. They were close in age so when she was with Tiffany, they were like long lost sisters. Tiffany was loud, boisterous, and shy about nothing. She pulled Jill out of her shell from time to time and Jill loved it. Of course, there were other times that Tiffany would come to Jill for advice about various things. They completed each other in so many ways, like true friends should.

  “So, you called me. What’s up?”

  “Oh, nothing much.” Tiffany looked down to her cup, much like Mike had done. It was like she was contemplating something. “Brad may not be home for another two months.”

  “Tiff, I am so sorry. Is it for certain?” Jill’s heart broke for her friend. She remembered this feeling well.

  “No, I guess not. He can’t really say where he is at or what happened, but he told me things were rough. I just wish he was home.”

  “I am sure his S.O. will let him know when he can come home soon enough. Just hang in there.”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure I want to hang in there anymore, Jill. It is getting to be too much. I barely even know my husband. Every time he leaves, he comes home a little different. I never know what to expect. I want a husband who is home more than not.”

  A pit fell into her stomach. She had never heard her friend talk so despairingly. She was typically upbeat but right now she saw no signs of that joy.

  “Tiff, I don’t know what to say, except pray about it first. You have been together for so long and through so much.

  Jill watched her friend as she picked at her too short fingernail.

  “Can I ask what brought this on?”

  “I never told anyone this but remember how I thought I was pregnant at Ryan and Emma’s wedding? Well, I was. I had told no one, not even Brad. I miscarried; again. I was alone, again. Alone to grieve the tiny life that I was robbed of again. I’m just so done with it all, Jill.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything? We would have been there for you. You wouldn’t have been alone.”

  “After eight miscarriages, I’ve just learned to not get my hopes up. Telling people gives me hope.” Tears began to stream down Tiffany’s sun kissed face.

  Jill reached her hand out and took hold of Tiffany’s. “Don’t ever feel like you have to do this alone. I may not have a man over there fighting, but I did and I still see all the military wives as sisters. Even if you don’t tell a bunch of people, at least pick one person who you can bare your heart to.”

  A small smile peeked through on Tiffany’s face, “Why do you think I’m here?”

  The observation made Jill chuckle, “You got me there. Well, I’m glad you told me. It means a lot.

  “Tell me more about your latest project. It sounds great.”

  Jill did her best to keep her friend from dwelling too much on what she didn’t have and instead focus on what she did have.

  They chatted about the historic home and the plan to turn it into a business. Jill loved every detail Tiffany went over with her; though there were many times she had no clue what Tiffany was talking about.

  In no time, the phone alarm went off on her phone, indicating it was time to go get Katie from school. The friends hugged at their vehicles and said their good-byes. Jill prayed silently that Tiffany would find peace and joy in her life.

  On the drive back to New Lothrop to pick up her daughter, it dawned on Jill that she had little joy in her life as well. Not the joy that she found in her daughter and in teaching dance, but in life in general. The kind of joy she had heard a pastor preach about one time, many years ago. The joy she felt now was situational, not the kind that was with her all the time.

  Maybe I’ll find it someday.

  Chapter 12

  March was predicted to hold one last doozy of a snowstorm and Jill only hoped that her house could withstand it. The storm in December had done quite a number on the roof. It was in need of a major repair but every contractor who quoted the job for her tiny house wanted an astronomical amount of money. On her budget, eighteen hundred was a lot.

  Katie’s legs dangled from the dining table chair, kicking back and forth, as she ate her “dippy” eggs and toast while Jill prepared her own breakfast. Her head felt like a ton of bricks after being up half the night making final arrangements and plans for recitals while flashes of time spent with Mike interrupted the process. She used to be able to burn the midnight oil, but now it was getting harder to do so. She was turning into a pumpkin by nine, instead of midnight. It was frustrating. After Katie went to bed used to be Jill’s time to get a few extra things done. It didn’t look to be a possibility anymore.

  The weatherman’s voice came over the morning news program. Jill stopped prepping her coffee to give him her total attention.

  “A rather large front will be moving in later in the afternoon Tuesday, dropping more than twelve inches around the area,” he reported as he made a circular motion on the screen around where she was at and the counties around her. “The storm will linger into Wednesday evening before moving out. Michigan Emergency Management and State Police ask that you stay off the roads so that road crews can clear them as soon as possible to allow safe traffic later. This storm doesn’t look to be as large as the one in December, but could be just as dangerous as temps are higher this time of year. The snow will be heavier as it falls.”

  “Mom, does that mean a snow day tomorrow?” Katie asked in a cheerful voice.

  “Most likely, sweetie.” It also meant Jill would get nothing done. She wouldn’t be able to get to the studio; there would be no classes - which was not good with recitals in six weeks with spring break in the middle. It also meant Katie wanting her
to color, watch movies and cuddle with her.

  “That means girl time, right?”

  “I guess so sweetie.”

  These were the kind of winters that had Jill contemplating moving out of state. If it wasn’t for the close friendships she had found here and the studio, she would move. It was just her and Katie so who would care? Your parents? Doug’s parents? Your friends? Mike, maybe? Jill may have been born and raised in Michigan, but it didn’t mean she liked the weather. It changed its course as often as most people changed their clothes. Just last week it was forty degrees and sunny. Jill thought spring was actually coming but this week brought low thirties and a snowstorm.

  A country tune echoed through the kitchen, her mother’s ringtone. Jill searched all around the kitchen looking to see where she had put the thing down last. Her head was still fuzzy and left her feeling forgetful.

  Her eyes finally landing on the far corner of the kitchen counter, she charged for it before it stopped ringing. Mom would worry if Jill didn’t answer right away; like call in the county and state police kind of worried.

  “Hello, Ma.”

  “Jillian Rose, what took you so long? You had me worried.”

  “Sorry, Mom. I couldn’t find the phone.”

  “Did you see the weather? Are you ready?”

  “As ready as we are going to be. Katie already has her snow day planned.”

  “I hate storms. Ever since your dad passed, I feel frantic.” There was a pause in the conversation. Jill waited for what would come next. Comments like that always led to a request. “Would you girls want to stay with me while this thing blows through?”

  Jill thought for a minute.

  She knew the request was more for her mom’s benefit than Jill and Katie’s. Dad’s passing two years ago left a hole in the woman’s life and she had clung to Jill for moral support because according to her mother, “you know what it’s like not to have a man around.” Her mom had no idea how much that stung. Jill hated having to play both roles. If she went to her mother’s though, she would tell Jill that once or twice and treat her like a little girl the rest of the time. She loved her mom, but sometimes it was just too much; especially when she had so much on her mind already. But she needs someone to be with her when she feels vulnerable like this. An idea developed.