A Time to Dance

by Karen Kingsbury

  John caught her hands in his. “And what?”

  “I came down for a drink of water.” Tears flooded her eyes. “He was on the computer. I . . . I didn’t realize it until I was halfway up the stairs and heard the clicking sounds. I completely forgot about that.”

  There was nothing for John to say. Abby’s doubts cut to his core, but he couldn’t deny they were deserved. Thankfully, Internet pornography was not something he’d ever even considered. Still, he could hardly be upset with Abby for thinking it possible.

  “John . . .” She took his face in her hands and searched his eyes. “I’m so sorry. How could I have thought—?”

  “Shh, Abby. Don’t.” He lay his head against hers and stroked her hair. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t let you down in the past, you never would’ve wondered.”

  “But I’m such a jerk.” Her tears became sobs, and she clung to John as though her next breath depended on his being there. “Why didn’t I ask you first? Instead of accusing you?”

  “It’s okay.” Peace flooded his heart. This was his Abby, fighting for their marriage, determined to let go of the past. What he’d seen when he came home was merely a momentary lapse in trust, the kind of thing that was bound to happen in light of the trials they’d weathered. “Of course you’re going to have doubts, honey. It’s over with. Let it go.”

  Abby struggled to sit up, her eyes bloodshot, her breaths quick and jerky. “I never want to doubt you again, John Reynolds.” She sniffed and shook her head. Her voice was little more than a whisper. “It’s not okay. What we have is too precious to waste it doubting each other.”

  She was right. There was no way they could build on the love and joy of the past few months without trust. Suddenly he wondered if this was the first time. “Have you had doubts before this? About me, I mean?”

  “No, I—” She started to shake her head but she stopped herself. “Well . . . sometimes.” She took a quick breath. For a long time she said nothing. “I guess I wonder if someday another Charlene will move into the picture, or if I’ll be enough for you. Pretty enough . . . smart enough. Young enough.”

  If he hadn’t already been on his knees, her admission would have sent him there. “You were always enough. It wasn’t you; it was life. Time. Busyness. We let too much come between us.”

  “I know.” Her voice was calmer, more controlled. “But the Charlenes of this world will always be there.”

  “Never again, Abby. Remember the eagle?”

  Abby tilted her head. “Kade’s English paper. He wrote how the eagle mates for life . . . clings to its mate, even falling with her to his death rather than letting go.”

  “Right.” John worked his fingers up her arms to the sides of her face. “I’m clinging like I never did before.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Nothing could make me let go of you. Nothing.”

  She slid to the edge of the chair and hugged him. “I believe you. I’ve believed you since Nicole’s wedding. The doubts are just . . . I don’t know, stupid I guess.”

  He searched his heart and knew there was something else. If he was going to be completely honest, he had to tell her his thoughts as well. “You’re not the only one.”

  She pulled back enough to see his eyes. “Not the only one?”

  “With stupid doubts.”

  A softness settled over her eyes. “Really?”

  “Really.” John let his gaze drop for a moment before looking up again. Things had been going so well between him and Abby, he hadn’t wanted to admit his fleeting thoughts. Not even to himself. “I wonder sometimes what would’ve happened if I hadn’t come back the night of Nicole’s wedding. I mean, there I was, packed to leave for good. Only God could have made me stop the car and come back.” He bit his lip. “But what if I hadn’t come? Would you be dating that editor or having some sort of Internet relationship with him?”

  “I never should have let you go.” She slipped her fingers through his hair, her eyes shining. “Then you wouldn’t have to wonder.”

  “I don’t worry about you now. Just the past and where we might be if I hadn’t come back.”

  Abby rested her head against his once more, and they held each other. A long while later, Abby fell back into the chair again. “We still have a problem, though, don’t we?”

  John could read her soul as easily now as he had back when she was a teenager. “Kade?”

  “Kade.” Her eyes narrowed, less in anger than confusion. “Why would he do that, John? That’s not how we raised him. That garbage will strangle the life out of him.”

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  “On the phone? What if he denies it?”

  She was right. This called for more than a phone call. “They have a bye coming up the second week in November. Let’s fly him home. I’ll talk to him then.”

  “What if he’s addicted? It happens all the time.” Abby hesitated. “I wish we didn’t have to wait.”

  “We don’t have to.” John took her hands in his again. This time he folded them within his. “We can do something right now.”

  Then with hearts and hands linked in a way that filled John’s being, they bowed their heads and prayed for their older son. That he would be honest about the Internet sites he’d looked into. That he would be willing to discuss the issue with John.

  And that together they could eliminate the problem. Before it was too late.

  Eight

  PERKY PAULA WAS GOING TO KICK THEM OUT FOR SURE.

  Abby could tell the moment she saw Jo and Denny at the gymnasium door. It was the first Saturday in November, and Abby had invited Nicole’s in-laws—as if John dancing on her feet wasn’t enough humor for the hour. They’d agreed to meet at the entrance.

  Abby wore a dress, and John, nice pants and a khaki button-down. Church clothes. It was ballroom dancing, after all. In Abby’s mind that connoted elegance and taste. Even with her husband stepping on her toes.

  Jo and Denny, on the other hand, looked ready for a country hoedown.

  Abby would have felt sorry for them, except neither of Matt’s parents seemed to care how they were dressed. Maybe they’ve never seen ballroom dancing. For that matter it was quite possible they’d never seen a ballroom.

  Denny wore pointed cowboy boots and a tall black hat. Jo was squeezed into a pink-and-black miniskirt with a matching pink-fringed shirt and pink boots.

  As they approached, John bent down and whispered in Abby’s ear, “Didn’t you tell them what to wear?”

  Abby waved at Jo as she whispered back, “I thought they’d know.”

  Both couples signed in and took their places.

  Jo fell in place next to Abby. “You sure the teacher won’t mind us buttin’ in and all?”

  “Positive.” John and Denny led the way. “The class is an ongoing thing.”

  John shot a quick look at Denny. “Aren’t you glad?”

  Denny gave a lopsided grin and twirled his finger in the air. “Barrel of fun, I’m sure.”

  “Oh, stop.” Jo whacked her husband in the arm. “You love dancin’ with me and you know it.”

  Paula had been flitting about, connecting with various couples. Now she approached Abby and John with a hurried smile. “Welcome back, I see you’ve brought your—” Instantly the smile became a frown as Paula scrutinized Jo and Denny. “My goodness—” the muttered comment was just loud enough for them to hear—“completely inappropriate.” She shook her head and turned to the front of the gym.

  Abby could feel Jo’s ire from five feet away. Here we go. Abby took John’s hand and waited.

  Jo spun around, her eyebrows furrowed. “That woman has a lot of nerve! What’s her problem?”

  “Nothing.” John patted Jo on the back. “She takes her dancing very seriously.”

  Abby could almost see the hairs rise on Jo’s neck as she planted her hands on her hips. “I take my fishin’ seriously, but you won’t see me sticking fishhooks in the first-timers over it.”

 
The couples lined up while Paula worked the tape player. Abby and John positioned themselves next to Jo and Denny. Jo hissed in Abby’s direction.

  “Besides, look at her! Dressed in tights and a lee-tard at her age!”

  Denny gave her a discreet nudge. “Jo . . .”

  “What? She looks ridiculous.”

  Jo shot a laserlike glare at Paula’s back. “She better not look at me like that again or I’ll . . . well . . .” Jo caught Denny’s look and relaxed some. “Never mind. Sorry.” She shot Abby and John a weak smile. “I get a little carried away.”

  “Right.” Denny used his eyes to apologize for his wife. “And water gets a little wet.”

  Abby grinned and squeezed John’s hand once more. “Don’t worry about it, Jo.” She gave the woman a tender smile and tried to imagine what Nicole would do in this situation. Abby drew a deep breath. “Hey, how’s the mission thing going? You guys still thinking about a year in Mexico?”

  “Absolutely.” The scowl fell from Jo’s face. “Can’t wait. Those little babies need people to love ’em, and me and Denny are just the folks.” She winked at her husband. “Besides, the fishin’ down there’ll be heavenly. Just like if I died and the Lord met me at the pearly gates with a brand new rod and reel.”

  One of the couples was talking to Paula so they still had a moment before class began. John poked his elbow at Denny. “Watch her feet. I had to carry Abby out after our first lesson.”

  “No!” Jo gave John a slap on the arm. “The graceful star quarterback from Michigan University? I don’t believe it.”

  “It’s true.” Abby winced and laughed at the same time. “My toes are still bruised.”

  “Hey, you seen the kids lately?” Jo gave her shoulders an exaggerated shrug and reached her hands over her head in a full-body stretch. The kind usually reserved for aerobic classes. Two of the couples near the front of the line noticed her and began whispering.

  “Uh . . .” Abby tried to remember Jo’s question. “Yes. Nicole stopped by yesterday.”

  “Well . . . what’d you think?”

  Denny exchanged a bewildered look with John, as if to say he had no idea what his wife was talking about. Again.

  “Think?”

  Jo huffed lightly. “About Nicole. Isn’t she glowing?”

  Abby thought for a moment. “I guess I haven’t noticed.”

  “Okay, class.” Paula clapped her hands. “Everyone in position, please. Let’s do a quick run-through of the steps we learned last week. Ready? And one and two and . . .” The music started.

  Abby and John lurched into action, getting halfway across the gym floor before John waltzed across her foot. “Ouch!” Abby tripped a bit and then fell back into step. This time they circled the room without incident. “Not bad.” She smiled at him. “You’re maturing quite nicely.”

  John nodded at something behind her. “That’s more than I can say for Jo and Denny.”

  Abby glanced over her shoulder and nearly tripped.

  Jo and Denny were completely ignoring Paula’s lead. Instead they had linked arms and were doing a side-by-side, high-stepping country line dance, oblivious to the waltzing couples around them.

  Abby spun back around to face John, eyes wide. “Paula’s going to kick them out!”

  “I don’t think so.” John’s eyes sparkled. “She’s been watching them the whole time. She’s too shocked to say anything.”

  As it turned out, Paula didn’t say a word until midway through the lesson. That’s when Jo let loose a loud “Yeeee-haaaw!” in the middle of a subdued classical piece.

  With that, Paula adjusted her headset and clapped her hands again. “There will be no shouting out from the students. Just follow the couple in front of you or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

  Jo gave Paula an angry look, opened her mouth, and did it again. “Yeeee-ha—”

  Denny placed his hand firmly over Jo’s mouth before she could complete the sound.

  Abby peered over John’s shoulder for a better view. “Wow.” She worked hard to keep her laughter quiet. “The woman’s unbelievable.”

  “You invited her.” John did a playful roll of his eyes. “I could have predicted this.”

  “Come on . . . she’s just more intense than most people.”

  “The way a tornado is more intense than a gust of wind.”

  Jo and Denny were two-stepping now, and Denny whispered to her midstep. Something close to remorse filled Jo’s eyes, and after that she seemed more sedate. Abby was awed. Clearly Denny’s influence over Jo was considerable.

  For the rest of the hour, every time Abby looked at them, they were lost in their own world of two-stepping and line dancing. Not once during the session did either of them even attempt a ballroom step.

  When the lesson was over, the couples stood outside the gym catching their breath. “I think that teacher had something against me.”

  “No . . . Do you think so?” Denny looped his arm around Jo’s neck and pulled her close. He flashed a grin at Abby and John.

  “And why was she teachin’ us that old-folk style dance? Someone oughta take her to a country dance hall and show her how to lighten up a little before she gets too caught up in herself and—”

  Denny placed his hand over Jo’s mouth once again. “What she means is, thanks for asking us to come. We had a great time.”

  Abby stifled a giggle. As she did, she remembered something. “Hey, what was that you were saying about Nicole earlier?”

  Jo started to talk but Denny’s fingers muffled the sound. He chuckled and let his hand fall. She raised her eyebrows at him. “Thank you.” Then she turned to Abby. “Just that she’s glowing brighter than a rainbow trout if you haven’t noticed.”

  Glowing? What was that supposed to mean? “That newlywed look?”

  John and Denny exchanged another curious look.

  “No . . .” Jo leaned in as if she had top-secret information. “That glowing look.”

  “Meaning . . .” Abby was desperate for Jo to explain herself. She couldn’t be suggesting . . .

  “Okay.” Jo straightened up again. “Nicole’s a honeymoon baby, right?”

  John shifted his weight and glanced at his watch. Abby’s signal that the conversation could wait.

  “Right, so?” Abby willed the woman to make herself clear.

  “So—” Jo grinned—“honeymoon babies beget honeymoon babies. That’s the way it works.”

  “Jo, come on.” John chuckled. “You don’t think Nicole’s pregnant?”

  “Now, now.” Jo held up her hand and lifted her chin. “You didn’t hear that from me.”

  A pit formed in Abby’s stomach. Certainly if Nicole was pregnant, she wouldn’t have told Jo and Denny first. Would she? But then, maybe Nicole hadn’t said a word. Maybe—“Did Matt tell you?”

  “Nope. Nothing like that. The kids haven’t said a word.” Jo tapped a finger against her temple. “It’s just a hunch. That and the way Nicole’s been glowing.”

  John gave a gentle tug on Abby’s arm. She responded with a few subtle steps backward. “Well, we need to run. I wouldn’t think too much about Nicole being pregnant. The kids are planning to wait awhile.”

  “I think we all know how plans like that work out, don’t we?” Jo looked at Denny. But this time there was nothing funny about her tone. In fact, if Abby wasn’t in such a hurry she would’ve taken more time with Jo. Because the look she and Denny shared was almost sad.

  The couples bid each other good-bye, but later that night Abby couldn’t shake what Jo had said. She and John helped Sean with a Native American flathouse he had to complete by Monday. When they were done, she motioned for John to follow her out back.

  Without saying a word, they strolled hand-in-hand to the pier. When one of them had something on their heart, knowing what to do was as instinctive as drawing breath.

  When they reached the end of the pier, they sat on a small bench John had placed there a month ago. Abby waited a minut
e before saying anything, gazing instead at the ribbon of light across the water. She loved this lake, loved the fact that they’d lived there since the children were young. Way back since their tiny baby daughter Haley Ann died suddenly in her sleep.

  There was never a time when they sat here together that Abby didn’t remember their second daughter, the one whose ashes they’d sprinkled across this very water. Over the years they’d come to this spot to share the highs and lows of life. When Abby’s mother was killed by the Barneveld tornado . . . when John’s father died of a heart attack . . . when John led the Eagles to their first state title—and when the parent complaints got to him.

  They would sit until words came. Then, when they were done talking, John would take her by the hand and sway with her, back and forth. Not the kind of dancing that required lessons. Rather the kind that required listening. Leaves rustling in the trees beyond the pier, crickets and creaking boards. The whisper of the wind. The faint refrains of distant memories.

  “Can you hear it?” he would ask.

  “Mmmm.” She would rest her head against his chest. “The music of our lives.”

  “Dance with me, Abby . . . don’t ever stop.”

  Abby drew in a long, slow mouthful of the cool night air. It tasted of the coming winter, cool and damp. It wouldn’t be long before they’d have to bundle up on evenings like these. And Abby had a feeling there would be several of them, between John’s coaching troubles and their concerns about Kade.

  She turned to John and reached for his hand. He was looking at her, watching her. Abby held his gaze for a moment. “I wonder if he’ll admit it.”

  “Probably.” John stared out at the water. “He doesn’t usually keep secrets from me.”

  “Yeah, but . . .”

  “I think he’ll tell me.”

  “I’m nervous about it.”

  Their fingers were still linked, and John soothed his thumb over the top of her hand. “I’m not. He’s a good kid, Abby. Whatever he’s doing on the Internet . . . I doubt he’s addicted to it.”

  “I know. But what if he gets angry that we know?” She tried to will away the knots in her stomach. “Things like this could cause a rift between him and us. A rift that could take him away from God, even.”