by Tepe, Mandie
“It’s okay. Forget I said anything. Well . . . I’m going to . . .” he gestured vaguely down the hallway.
“Good night,” she said in small voice and closed the door.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
Meg sat slumped on the deck steps the next morning holding her coffee mug between her knees. She rubbed her forehead with one hand and wished her headache away. She hadn’t slept much the night before and felt sluggish. She was such a dork—she had overstepped her bounds with Trace. And if that wasn’t bad enough, she knew as soon as he’d walked in the door how much trouble she was in. She liked him way too much. The air had changed as soon as he was in the room with her. When had she felt this way last? Maybe never.
But he looked so strong and handsome—capable of doing anything. He wouldn’t need someone like her around. Yeah, her heart was going to be broken and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. She just hoped she could hide her true feelings from him so at least her pride wouldn’t be hurt.
The back door slid open and her back stiffened. She felt, more than heard, his footsteps coming toward her. A shadow fell over her and then he was sitting beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. She couldn’t look at him.
“Hey, Meg. You okay?”
She gave herself a swift kick—mentally—and looked into his face. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine. You?”
“Look, I apologize for last night. I want to thank you for dinner, the clean house and the laundry. I don’t know why I made such a big deal out of it.” He shot her a wry look. “Forgive me?”
Meg blew out a breath. “There’s nothing to forgive. I know I’m ‘playing house’ here and I shouldn’t do that. I can understand your freaking out a little about that. This is your nest and here I come pretending it’s mine and that’s not right. Sorry. I’ll try to be more sensitive about it.”
Trace stared into her eyes for a long moment and seemed to make a decision. “Meg, I’m going to be honest with you. Then you need to be honest with me.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “I’m scared I’m going to get too used to your being here. I’m enjoying it maybe too much. It might get . . . I don’t know . . . a little tricky for me to say goodbye when the time comes.”
Meg was stunned. “You mean . . . maybe you’re developing feelings . . . or . . . you might like having a roommate . . . friend . . . What exactly are you saying, Trace?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m saying I like you. Really like you. And I know you’re going to leave in a few weeks—you have an important career. I can’t compete with that, but my heart’s involved already.” He stared out over the water. “Just be honest with me. If you’re not feeling the same way, tell me. We can go back to being friends and pretend we never had this conversation.”
“You could do that? Go back to being friends if I don’t feel the same way? ‘Cause I don’t think I can. I’ve been fretting over you all weekend—worrying about how I think I’m starting to care about you differently than you care about me.”
Trace swung his head around to look into her eyes. There it was. He was seeing what he hoped to see—the same thing he saw in his own eyes in the mirror. “Really?” He could barely get the word out.
“Yeah. I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time. Maybe never. What should we do?”
Trace laced his fingers with hers. “Let’s just see how it plays out. Take it slow. If it ends when it’s time for you to go, we’ll deal with it. If both of us can’t bear for it to end, we’ll work through it the best we can. No pressure from either of us. Okay?”
“Okay.” She finally smiled. “No pressure. Nice and easy and slow.”
He studied her for a minute. “You look tired.”
Meg winced, “Thanks a lot. Up until that point this was a really romantic moment.”
“Sorry, no offense.” He looked chagrined.
“I didn’t sleep much last night. I was worried I had completely turned you off and you’d want nothing to do with me.”
“No, I just panicked.”
They sat in silence for a while and watched the seagulls diving over the water. “Big day today?” Trace asked.
“Just starting a new three-day workshop series—we finished the first one Friday. Also going to work on the showcase. We have to really get it nailed down and decide which students will perform and what genres we want to represent. Time’s ticking. How about you?”
“No, just an ordinary day at the office.”
“Ha ha! That’s funny!” She bumped her shoulder into his. “You said something a minute ago . . . about my having an important career. How can someone like you—who really has an important career—say that to someone like me?”
“You don’t think your career is important?” He was really surprised.
“Well, compared to what you guys do, no. It’s kind of frivolous when you think about it. I get respect in my own field, I guess, but I wouldn’t say it was that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things.”
“Well, you’d be wrong. What you and Sean—and all artists—do is really important. You bring beauty to the world. And we all need beauty in the world. Guys like me see too much ugliness.”
Meg reached up to rub his furrowed brow with her thumb. “Thank you.” She was really touched. “It’s for sure that you guys—all of our military—make it possible for us to share our art with the world. You give us that freedom. I don’t think you get enough credit for that.”
Trace tightened his hand around hers, stood up, and pulled her to her feet. He slid his arms around her. “I’ve gotta get going. Hate to leave you today, though.” He laid his forehead against hers and looked into her eyes.
“Me too.” She smiled impishly up at him. “Good talk. I’m glad we cleared the air.”
“My pleasure. And a huge relief.” He stepped back and started up the steps pulling her after him.
Meg’s cell phone rang and she dropped Trace’s hand to dig it out of her sweater pocket. “Hey, Mom. Have you landed?”
Trace heard the faint voice on the other end say, “I hope I’m not calling too early—I know there’s a three-hour time difference. Am I waking you up?”
“Not at all. I’ve been up for a while.” Meg shot a rueful look at Trace and thought, all night really.
“We’re in Charleston. We landed about a half hour ago and—miracle of miracles—all of our bags made it!”
Meg laughed, “That’s great, Mom. What’s next?”
“We’re going for our leisurely brunch and then we can start boarding the ship at noon—nine o’clock your time. I think we set sail around four.”
“I’m jealous!”
Sheila laughed, “No, you’re not. Okay, honey, Daddy has the taxi loaded up so I have to go. Don’t worry. We’ll be fine and I’ll stay in touch. Love you!”
“Love you too, Mom. Kiss Daddy for me and have a great time.” She disconnected and looked over at Trace where he had stopped by the door watching her.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, my parents are setting out on a cruise to the Bahamas today and were just checking in to let me know they made it to Charleston okay. Sorry ‘bout that.”
“No need to be sorry. I’m glad their trip is starting off well.” He opened the door for her. “I didn’t see Sean on the couch. Did he head out early this morning?”
“No,” she replied as she stepped into the house. “Never came home.”
“Really?”
“He spent all weekend except for a couple of hours yesterday at Steffy’s. She had a hissy fit over him coming over to practice with me. This is not a good situation, but he won’t hear it from me. He shuts me down if I try to talk some sense into him. I can only hope she won’t affect our job at the Institute. We’ll see.”
“Wow. Keep me posted.” Trace looked up at the clock. “Ooh . . . I gotta get a move on. Can I call you later?”
“You better! Have a good day, Trace.”
>
CHAPTER NINE
“Are you sure they won’t mind us crashing their party?” Tobi asked as they walked across the parking lot.
“I’m sure,” Meg answered.
Meg had walked into the faculty lounge that morning glowing and Tobi had rushed to her side to get all the details of Meg and Trace’s conversation earlier that morning.
Trace had called Meg on his lunch break and told her that several of the guys from his team—and their wives or girlfriends—were going to watch the Monday night football game at a local sports bar, Abernathy’s, that evening. He invited her to meet them there and she had agreed. She mentioned it to Tobi and suggested she might like to come along. “I’m not sure if any of the guys will be single, but it’s worth a try,” she had teased Tobi with a smile. So Tobi had accepted the challenge in hopes of meeting a cute computer geek. By the end of the day Kai and his friend, Scott, had decided to join them too.
Kai and Scott jogged up to them as they approached the door. As they walked through it, Meg looked around and saw a bunch of tables pushed together toward the back of the bar. “Back there,” she said as she gestured to the upper level that took up almost half of the room.
As they worked their way through the tables toward the back, Trace must have noticed them. She saw him stand up, wave and move toward them. “Hey!” he said as he brushed his lips across her cheek.
“Hi. I made it . . . and I brought friends. Hope that’s okay.”
He smiled at the others. “The more the merrier.”
Meg turned and pointed, “Kai, Tobi, Scott. All new friends from the Institute.”
Scott burst out laughing. “That sounds bad! We’re your new crazy institutionalized friends? Well, now that I think about it—seems that way some days.”
They all laughed along as they moved the rest of the way to the tables.
“Meg!” Charley and Sonny chorused when they spied her at the same time.
“Hey, guys. How’re you? Survived the weekend okay, I see,” she said over the noise.
Everyone at the table shifted around so that Meg could squeeze in beside Trace’s chair and they could fit in a couple more chairs for her friends. Introductions were made and everyone settled in. Meg knew it would take a while for her to remember so many names. The waitress brought over more mugs and Scott and Kai poured beer from one of the pitchers. Trace made sure Tobi’s wine and Meg’s diet soda were ordered.
Trace leaned over toward Meg, “Sean decided not to come by too?”
Meg rolled her eyes, “He was sitting right there with me at the lunch table when you called and he seemed interested in coming. But then Steffy gave him the stink eye and he backed down and said they had other plans. I told her she was welcome too, but she wasn’t going to let him come, so I just dropped it. Sorry.”
A pretty Hispanic girl, Valeria, two seats down from Meg, handed a tray of nachos to the man between her and Meg, “Here, Javier, pass these over to Meg. Show some manners.” She peeked around him to smile at Meg.
“Sheesh, Val, I was getting to it. Here you go, Meg.”
“Thanks,” Meg said as she grabbed an empty plate from the center of the table and filled it with some of the nachos.
She looked around and noticed everyone was either visiting—mostly the women, or glued to the game—mostly the guys. Valeria leaned around Trace’s teammate, Javier Gomez, again. “So, Meg, I hear you’re a dancer. That’s awesome. I always wanted to take lessons as a kid, but never had the chance.”
Meg smiled, “Yes, I am. You know it’s never too late. You should look into it.”
“Well . . . maybe I will, but not for a while.” She patted Gomez’s back. “Javier and I are expecting our first baby in about six months.”
He looked over at her, “Huh? What? Do you need something?”
She laughed, “Never mind. Go back to your game.”
“That’s so exciting. Congratulations!” Meg exclaimed.
Val looked back over at Meg. “Your partner . . . he couldn’t make it tonight? I think everyone wanted to meet Trace’s brother.”
“No. He’s hanging with a new crowd these days.”
“Does that bother you?” Val asked.
“Not really. Sometimes there can be too much togetherness,” Meg laughed.
Val laughed along. “I hear that same thing from Javier. Usually when he wants to go paintballing with the guys instead of shopping with me.”
They chatted a while and pretty soon had their chairs pushed back from the table with some of the other ladies joining them. They had a lot of questions about her stint at SDDI and she and Tobi filled them in.
Besides Val, Meg met the SEAL team leader’s wife, a very glamorous blonde named Trish, who owned an upscale boutique. At first glance they seemed a mismatched pair, her ice blue eyes and corn silk hair contrasting with JoJo’s mocha colored skin and bald head—but they were obviously very much in love. She also met a sweet wholesome-looking elementary school social worker, Beth, who had been dating another of Trace’s friends, Titus, for almost a year. There was also a quiet girl, Kelli, who was apparently there on her second date with Charley. She seemed a little overwhelmed by the group, but the girls were all doing their best to make her, Meg and Tobi feel welcome.
Halftime rolled around and the guys came out of their fog and stood up to stretch their legs. A couple of them came over to check on their girls. Trace was standing to one side discussing the first half of the game with a group of guys, which included Kai and Scott. Scott said something and they all laughed as Trace looked over and winked at Meg. He walked over and squatted down beside her chair.
“You doing okay?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah. I’m having a great time. These are some great girls,” Meg answered.
“Good. So I don’t have to feel guilty for ignoring you, huh? Should I apologize?”
“No. It’s Monday night football. Nothing takes precedence over that—especially me.”
Trace squeezed her shoulder and stood up just as a few guys walked over to their table from the other side of the bar. They started trash talking the SEALs and the SEALs retaliated by insulting the Marine Corps in general and FAST—Fleet Antiterrorism Security Teams—in particular. Just when Meg expected a brawl to break out they all broke into laughter and clapped each other on the backs.
She stood up and looked around for Tobi to see if she wanted to accompany her to the ladies’ room and noticed her standing over by the bar laughing with Sonny. She decided not to interrupt and found the ladies’ room on her own. As she was walking in, Trish was about to leave.
“I’ll wait for you,” Trish said.
“Okay.” After she had washed her hands and touched up her lip gloss they headed for the door. “I’m really glad I came in tonight. It’s so nice to meet Trace’s friends.”
Trish smiled at her. “Not as nice as it is for us to meet you. Trace doesn’t bring women around very often. And we usually don’t see the same one more than once or twice. He seems different with you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the door waiting for you to get here tonight.”
Meg blushed. “Well, I really like him, but it’s probably just a temporary thing. Maybe. We’re just going to see how it goes.”
Trish nodded knowingly. “Did you get the ‘it’s-not-fair-to-ask-someone-to-wait-around-for-me-all-the-time-not-knowing-when-or-if-I’ll-ever-get-back’ speech? I think all the wives and girlfriends here have gotten that one.”
“We talked about that. But it’s me as much—or more—as it is him. I mean, I’ve been a gypsy for so long . . . he’d be waiting around for me too. I don’t know . . . it just seems so complicated.”
“Don’t think about that. Do just what you said—see how it goes and enjoy it for as long as you can. You might be surprised. I like what I’m seeing in Trace right now. He seems content and he’s been in this self-imposed lonely-state for too long.” They had stopped just below the steps leading up to the tables on the top level. Glancing
up Trish said, “I guess the second half has started.”
Sure enough all the guys were absorbed in the game at one end of the table. Trish and Meg climbed up the steps and joined the girls at the other end.
Val noticed Meg pulling her chair up to the table. “Meg, Tobi was just telling us about the workshops you’re teaching at the SDDI. It sounds fascinating. I guess I never thought about how much theory goes into dance. I know it takes a lot of physical talent, but I never really thought about the mental part of it, I guess.”
Tobi chimed in, “The workshop she started today is on the historical influences of dance and how that feeds into the emotional aspects of it. Really interesting.”
“That does sound interesting. I bet the students are loving it,” Beth said.
Meg looked around ruefully. “Well, I hope most of them are enjoying it. Dancers are like any other group of students, though. Some are all about the creativity and art of the dance. Others come at it more athletically, if you will—as a sport almost. Those are the ones who aren’t that interested in approaching dance emotionally, though with work you can get that emotion out of them.” She nodded toward the other end of the table at Kai. “Take Kai for instance. He is so tapped into the emotion of the dance it’s a beautiful thing to watch. He just feels it and he makes you feel it too, just by seeing him experience it.”
The girls all looked over at him. “Well, he’s beautiful and graceful just sitting there with that dark skin and gorgeous black eyes,” Trish said.
Kai was a perfect blend of his mother, formerly a principal dancer with the prestigious Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, and his father who was the Spanish founder of a world-renown Latin dance school.
Tobi nodded toward Scott, with his spiked blonde hair. “Scott is more the other type of dancer. Crazy athletic. He does leaps so high and hangs in the air so long you’d think he had wings. We have to work harder to get the emotion out of him, but he’s a brilliant dancer just the same.”
Val asked Tobi and Meg, “Is there any way to get tickets to this showcase you’re doing in a few weeks, or is it invitation only?”