“She shouldn’t, though. The adoption agency is the one who separated us, not your parents.”
“I know, but sometimes even when your head tells you one thing, your heart says another,” Shannon said. “I know getting dressed up isn’t really your thing, but maybe you could look at this party as my parents’ way of welcoming everyone into the family? Would that help at all?”
Not really. Traci was about to ask how much these not-dressy dresses were going to cost when she caught sight of both Jennifer and Kimber giving her death stares.
Then she had to admit that the cold, hard, truth was that she was jealous. Shannon had grown up with people fussing over her. Wanting to spend thousands of dollars to celebrate her. The comparison pinched, but it also wasn’t anything that she hadn’t tried to come to grips with before.
She took another sip of beer instead and pasted what she hoped was an interested smile on her face. “So, what color are all of you thinking of?”
“Since it’s in June, we were thinking red,” Shannon said. ““What do y’all think of that?”
“You want us in red?” Traci wore grays, ivories, and black. Red was not in her comfort zone.
“Mom suggested yellow but I wasn’t up for that,” Shannon said. “I wanted something bright and cheery.” She smiled at Jennifer. “Besides, I think red would be flattering on all of us.” Glancing at Traci again, that smile faltered. “Or, maybe pink? I do like dark pink.”
“I like either color just fine,” Kimber said.
“Kimber, you aren’t allowed to have a say. You look good in everything.”
“Not everything.”
Kimber was a model. People paid her money to wear clothes. Of course she could do red.
“What about you, Jen?” Shannon asked. “Tell me honestly.”
“This is such a sweet idea of your parents. I’ll wear whatever you want me to.”
“Traci?” Shannon asked at last.
Even that one word was filled with tension, which she felt terrible about. Deciding to make a joke, she said, “Even though I think I look best in navy blue, I’ll be happy in red.”
“Believe me, I might have chosen navy but Dylan would have grumbled. He doesn’t want to wear his dress uniform or anything resembling that.”
“Show Traci the designs we’ve been looking at,” Kimber prodded.
Shannon pushed over a two-inch-thick magazine with about a dozen pages dog-eared. Looking excited again, she started flipping through pages. “First, I was thinking about strapless, since my gown is strapless, but then I saw these halter-style dresses. Those look more comfortable. What do y’all think?”
Gesturing toward her curves, Jennifer said, “I vote for the halter.”
“That’s great with me,” Traci added.
“Me, too, sweetie,” Kimber murmured to Shannon. “This party is gonna be great. I’m looking forward to it.”
“I can’t wait,” Shannon said. “It’s going to be so pretty. And I’m so excited about my mom being so supportive, too. We’re talking on the phone every day now.”
Traci had long since resigned herself to not having parents, but there were moments like this when she realized just how much she envied Shannon’s good fortune in getting adopted. Usually, she pushed her envy to one side. But there were times, such as this moment, when she wondered again why her two sisters had gotten adopted so quickly but she never had.
Had she really been that terrible of a baby?
“Traci?” Jennifer prodded. “Did you hear my question? Do you want to have pork tenderloin tomorrow night?”
“Sure. That sounds good,” she replied.
“What do you think about roasted asparagus? It’s in season now. Or we could have Brussel sprouts,” Jennifer continued, just like spring vegetables really mattered. “Do you like them? Some people don’t.”
She couldn’t do this now. She couldn’t talk any more about vegetables and matching dresses. Just as she was feeling like the walls were closing in, her cell phone chirped.
She reached for it like the house was on fire. “Sorry . . . Oh! I’ve got to take this.” Walking to the other room, she wondered if she was being saved from her dark thoughts or about to be thrown into another round of insecurities.
Because Dr. Matt Rossi was on the phone. He’d called after all.
* * *
“Hello?”
Matt breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment, he’d thought she was going to let his call go straight to voice mail. “Traci, hi. It’s Matt. Matt Rossi.” He stopped himself in the nick of time from saying he was Gwen’s doctor. Jeez, he was nervous.
“Hey. I was wondering if you were going to call.”
“I was wondering if you’d answer when I did.”
She laughed. “What’s going on?”
He leaned his elbows on the railing of his deck and smiled. He kind of loved how she was always business all the time. Did the woman ever just relax and kick up her heels? “Well, it’s not work.”
“What is it about?”
“My brother is getting married in six weeks. My whole family is in full wedding mode.”
“Mine, too. I mean, my sister Shannon is having a ceremony in June. Your call just saved me from another fifteen-minute discussion about bridesmaid dresses.”
He chuckled. “Not your favorite thing to talk about?”
“No. Not even close. But, it’s kind of fun, in a strange way, I guess. Shannon is happy.”
“My sister loved wedding planning. Most girls do, I guess.”
“Not this one. When I get married, I’m going to vote for a justice of the peace.”
“My mother wouldn’t talk to me for a month if I did that.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, here’s why I called. Would you be my date for the wedding?”
“Planning ahead, are we?”
“Not so far. They’re hoping for a quick wedding. In six weeks. Plus, there’s actually something else involved.”
“Which is . . .”
“Dancing is involved. Waltzing.”
To his surprise, she burst out laughing. “I cannot even believe this.”
“What?”
“Until I moved to Bridgeport, I was hardly aware that people outside of Dancing with the Stars actually did those dances. But now I live above a ballroom dance studio. I’m surrounded by it.”
“So, you know someone who teaches ballroom dancing?”
“I sure do,” she said. “My sister Shannon.”
“That’s great. Do you already know how to waltz?” He closed his eyes. Wow, he sounded annoyingly hopeful.
“Uh, no. Waltzing isn’t really my thing.”
“Oh.”
“But, um, I could give it a try, I guess.”
Now her voice was sounding kind of hopeful, too.
“Traci, would you consider taking a few lessons and waltzing with me at my brother’s wedding?” He knew he sounded needy, but what could he do? He was in a bind. Plus, he wanted to get to know Traci better. There was something about her that he found refreshing.
“Um, I don’t know, Matt.”
“Is it the dancing or me?”
“Whoa. Well, that was direct.”
“I figured you’d appreciate directness. Am I wrong?” As one second passed, and then two, he looked out at his backyard. It was adjacent to a pretty good swath of open space, the majority of which had a creek. He loved looking out at the narrow stretch of water and seeing what animals had come to visit.
“I’m starting to realize how you got to be a doctor. You don’t mess around, do you?” Her voice had a smile in it. He could practically see her expression. Traci had a way of smiling that was a little faint and a little on edge. Almost like she was amused in spite of her best efforts not to be.
Her question caught him off g
uard. Not necessarily because she was wrong, but he’d never thought of himself as coming across as especially driven. “I wanted to be a doctor because I wanted to deliver babies. I wanted to do something with my life that was positive. And it is. I’ve never looked back.” He took a breath. “But I’m not as independent in my personal life. The fact is, I love my brother and I know I’m going to love having Marie as a sister-in-law. Just as importantly, I love my parents and try not to disappoint them if I can help it. They want me waltzing at Anthony and Marie’s wedding.”
“So you’re going to waltz.”
“Yeah, I am. It’s not that big of deal in the grand scheme of things. Just a couple of hours of lessons. Plus, it will make them happy, Traci. I’m not going to be the guy to cause any type of disappointment on their wedding day.” Realizing that he needed to give her time, he said, “Will you think about it and give me a call in a day or two?”
“No.”
No. Damn. “Well, okay. So, th—”
“Matt, I meant: no, I don’t need to think about it. I’ll do it.”
“Whew. You had me worried there for a minute. Are you sure, though?”
“Dr. Rossi, you might not be able to say no to your parents and siblings, but I sure am not going to be the woman who helps you ruin your brother’s wedding day.”
“We’ll probably have to take a couple of lessons.”
“Like I said, I have a sister who can help us out. I’ll ask Shannon about her schedule and let you know.”
“Thanks.”
“No, thank you. I’m not exactly sure why you thought of me when you thought of dancing, but I appreciate it.”
Staring out at the creek just beyond his house, he grinned. Traci Lucky was a woman who didn’t know her own appeal. It was yet another way that she was refreshing. “Anytime, Traci. I’ll look forward to your call.”
“I’ll be in touch. Bye.”
She hung up before he had a chance to respond.
But Matt was fine with that. He was already learning that when it came to Traci Lucky, it was better to take what he could get.
And where she was concerned, that was more than enough.
CHAPTER 12
“There is a bit of insanity in dancing that does
everybody a great deal of good.”
—Edwin Denby
The kitchen at the Bridgeport Women’s Center was huge. It was also outfitted with all kinds of modern equipment, thanks to a grant that Ellen had received a couple of years ago. There were stainless steel counters, a walk-in freezer, a huge pantry, a gas range, two ovens, and something called a dish pit, which was essentially a dishwasher.
It was also fairly hot inside. Even though three of the windows were cracked to let in fresh air, it was by far the hottest room in the center.
Gwen was so glad she had on simple black leggings, Keds, and a flowery loose-fitting short-sleeved top. At least she was going to stay relatively comfortable and cool.
“Don’t forget to take a break every hour,” Ellen warned. “You need to take care of yourself and the baby.”
“I won’t forget,” Gwen replied, sharing a look with Dawn. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Of course, dear. I’ll see you at dinner.” She winked. “I can’t wait to taste your creation!”
After the director left, Gwen and Dawn smiled at each other again. Sometimes the things that happened around this place was un-be-lieve-able. Never had she been treated with such concern. “Do you ever stop and wonder if Ms. Landers is for real?” she asked.
“All the time. The first two weeks I was here, I could hardly believe the things she was promising me. I was sure she was playing a trick or something.”
“And now, here you are. Working in the kitchen.”
“Yep. And I even got myself a helper.” She braced her hands on her hips. “What do you think? Are you ready to make a King Ranch Casserole?”
Gwen still wasn’t sure what that was, but she was willing to help as much as she could. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. Now, first things first. You need to boil this chicken.” She pointed to two whole birds on a plastic cutting board. Cut them up like I showed you yesterday and put them in the pot with the celery and onion. Got it?”
Gwen wasn’t going to lie—those twin naked chickens, raw and wet, made her want to throw up. But she wasn’t going to let a little thing like queasiness stop her from learning some skills. Or from earning her keep around the place. “Okay.”
Dawn gave her an encouraging smile. “All right, then. Now, while you do that, I’ll get started on the sauce.” She walked to the pantry and started pulling out items, leaving Gwen alone with a pair of disposable kitchen gloves, a sharp knife, pot of water, and those two chickens.
Taking a deep breath, Gwen put on the gloves, took hold of that knife, and started cutting up those birds. When her stomach lurched as the knife slid into the skin, she breathed deep and forced herself to think of other things.
Things like her progress over the last two weeks.
In some ways, she could hardly believe all the changes that had occurred. Just two weeks ago she’d been living with Hunter, feeling like she was at the end of her rope, and barely getting by.
None of Hunter’s friends had seen her as anything other than a waste of space. They’d treated her like it, too.
And Hunter? When he hadn’t been berating her for getting pregnant in the first place, he’d been either forcing himself on her or yelling at her to wait on him hand and foot. Her only relief had been when he was too high to care about anything.
To her shame, she’d begun to be grateful for his drug habit.
She’d hit rock bottom the day before Officer Lucky and her partner had raided the building. After months of refusing Hunter’s offers of drugs, she’d given into his pressuring, hoping to escape her life one way or another. When Officer Lucky had tried to get her into that ambulance, all she’d wanted to do was cling to anyone who could help her. Even a cop.
Since arriving at the Bridgeport Women’s Center, she’d been taking baby steps. Two days ago, Ellen had asked her to help Dawn in the kitchen, even though Gwen had confided that she had next to no cooking skills. She’d been prepared to be talked down to, but Dawn hadn’t cared about her lack of experience. At first, Gwen had only chopped vegetables and washed dishes. But to her surprise, no one seemed to mind that she needed a lot of instruction.
Yesterday afternoon, Dawn had announced that it was time for her to break down a chicken. After getting over her first bout of squeamishness, she did all right. And now, here she was, doing that same task by herself twenty-four hours later.
“Uh-oh,” Dawn exclaimed. “I caught you smiling. You must not hate it this job as much as I thought you did.”
“I think raw chicken is still gross but I was just thinking that I’m in here doing something productive.” Because she caught herself about to put herself down, she stopped and took a deep breath. She didn’t have Hunter in her life anymore. She didn’t need to be so negative. “I know it’s a small thing, but it’s a huge step forward for me.”
Putting down the wooden spoon, Dawn turned to her. “You do realize that I was brought in here by the police too, right?”
She shook her head. “Really?”
“Every woman in here was brought in here either by the police or a social worker. Everything you are going through now is what half the population of this place has gone through.”
The way she phrased it seemed strange. “And the other half?”
“The other half gives up and goes back where they came from, honey.”
“That many?”
“Sobriety is hard. Leaving a bad situation for something new and different? Well, some people find that just as difficult to do.”
Remembering the comple
te sense of despair she used to feel, Gwen shuddered. “I really don’t want to be in the group that goes back.”
“Good.”
“Any advice?”
Dawn laughed quietly. “You don’t need anything from me.”
“Maybe I don’t need anything, but I’d appreciate hearing what you have to say. Please?”
“All right, then. Here’s my tip. Just keep doing what you’re doing. Even when it feels like staying here is too hard, just keep at it. Think of your baby. That’s all you can do.”
“One step at a time.” She plopped the last piece of chicken into the pot of hot water and pulled off her gloves. “It sounds easy but it’s how it’s done, right?”
“Yep.” She picked up her wooden spoon again. “Come over here and I’ll show you how to make a roux.”
After rinsing off the board and setting it in the sink, she switched places with Gwen.
“First thing, measure—”
Three bells chimed.
“Oh, Lord.”
Two bells chimed again, followed by a sharp beep.
Gwen looked around the room. “What’s going on?”
“We’re in lockdown, sister.” Dawn’s voice was calm but firm. “Turn off the burners, okay? We’ve got to go up to our rooms.”
Gwen did as she asked. “What did someone do? Oh my gosh, did a woman try to escape or something?”
Dawn stopped in the doorway. “Gwen, no one is going to ever stop you from leaving. That alarm is because someone is trying to force their way in.”
“Ladies, now,” Ellen called out. “This is not a drill.”
“Come on,” Dawn said. “We’ve got to hurry.”
Gwen’s stomach sank as she hurried up the stairs with the other women. Everyone was completely silent and their expressions were terrified.
Only then did she realize that there was a real good chance that Hunter could be the man who had broken in. He wasn’t one to take no for an answer.
And he had a whole lot of reasons to want her silent, especially since he knew she’d do almost anything to save her baby.
CHAPTER 13
“Dance first. Think later. It’s the natural order.”
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