by Kait Nolan
Her face glowed with a smile as the lights came up and the music started. Tucker pulled her in, sliding into the dance and into their own little world. No crowd, no competition, only the woman he loved. The dance was part waltz, part foxtrot, all love story. When the final bars played, he eased her into a dip and pressed his lips to hers.
The applause apparently went on for a bit before he registered the sound.
Corinne was laughing as he pulled her vertical. “Nice improv.”
“I enjoyed it.” Grinning, they made their way to the judges dais.
Almost before they’d stopped, the paddles came up. Nine. Ten. Ten.
“A tie, ladies and gentlemen! That means the final results are up to you voters here and at home. Audience members will find a ballot card at your seat. Our ushers will be collecting them shortly. At home you can go online and vote for the next half hour.” He gave the web address for voting. “While we await the exciting conclusion of Dancing With Wishful, let’s review some of the highlights from the competition.”
Everybody converged as soon as they left the floor.
“The Disney vote? Come on!” Tyler complained.
“Hey, no rule against it,” Tucker argued. “And we’ve been pulling the nostalgia thread from day one.”
“And rocking it,” Piper observed. “Nicely done.” Her gaze slid up and down Corinne. “Not gonna lie. I’m having some dress envy right now.”
Corinne laughed. “I admit, I’ll be sad to give it back. What girl didn’t want to be Belle?”
“You make a pretty princess, Mommy!”
Tucker snagged Kurt and scooped him up before he could leap into Corinne’s arms and muss her costume. “She does, doesn’t she?”
“Thanks. I think both my men are looking pretty handsome.” She gave them both noisy kisses on their cheeks.
A flustered Marianne was half a dozen paces away. “Sorry. He keeps getting away from me.”
“Are you sad it’s nearly over?” Brody asked Corinne.
“No. It’s been fun. But it’s been so long since life was anything resembling normal, I’d kinda like to figure out what that looks like.”
“How did your test go?” Piper asked.
“Don’t know yet. I’ll probably have to take it again. I wasn’t in the greatest headspace when I went in.”
“That’s what I wanted to tell you earlier. The results came in.” Marianne pulled an envelope from her purse.
Corinne eyed it like it might bite her.
“You don’t have to look at it yet,” Tucker told her. “Enjoy tonight, wait until tomorrow.”
“But it’s there. I can’t not look at it.” Blowing out a breath, she took the envelope from her mother and tore open the flap.
With Kurt perched on one hip, Tucker reached out to press a hand to her back as she pulled out the sheet of printed paper inside. She skimmed the contents twice before lifting her gaze to his.
“Well?”
“I passed,” she whispered. Thrusting both hands into the air, she spun in a circle. “Thank you, sweet baby Jesus, I passed.”
More cheers and congratulations broke out. Kurt was juggled, kisses were given, shoulders were squeezed. Corinne glowed with relief and joy. Until she came face-to-face with her mother.
Marianne caught her by the hands. “I’m so proud of you, Corinne. Of everything you’ve done.”
Corinne swallowed. “But?”
Her mother winced. “No buts. No qualifiers. No suggestions for how you could’ve done it better. I’m just proud of you. Period. I should’ve told you that a long time ago.”
Corinne’s mouth dropped open. “Thank you, Mama.”
When Marianne moved in for a hug, Corinne didn’t stop her. The whole thing was stiff and awkward, obviously not something the two women were used to. But it was real. And Tucker hoped it was the start of a new chapter there, as Corinne had started so many others.
The emcee’s voice boomed over the crowd. “If our dancers will return to the floor, we have the final tallies to deliver.”
A few minutes later, the four of them stood before the judges as the emcee reminded the crowd of the individual performances and scores the two teams had earned over the course of the competition. “Through the entire process, these two teams have been neck-and-neck. So we turned over the decision for the final winners of Dancing With Wishful to you, our audience. Results have been tabulated from our in-house audience and online. And the winner of the first annual Dancing With Wishful competition is—” He paused for effect, looking out over the crowd. “Team Dinner Belles, Tucker McGee and Corinne Dawson!”
Tucker scooped Corinne up in a bear hug.
“We did it!” she shouted.
“We absolutely did.”
They turned to accept congratulations from Tyler and Cam. As the four of them traded handshakes and hugs amid the deafening applause, Tyler spoke up, “Hey, did anybody else catch that whole ‘first annual’ part of the spiel?”
“I did notice that,” Tucker said.
They all looked at Cam, who lifted his hands in peace. “What can I say? It’s Norah.”
~*~
Corinne slid a towering slice of coconut cream pie in front of Malika before settling across from her with her own slice of peach pie. A la mode, of course.
Malika forked a bite into her mouth. “Oh my God.”
“Good, isn’t it?”
“I think I just had a foodgasm. I take it back. This is so much better than champagne for celebration.”
“We’ll revisit the champagne once we are gainfully employed in our chosen profession.”
“You didn’t have any after winning Dancing With Wishful?”
Corinne grinned. “Tucker had other ideas for how to celebrate our win.” Her cheeks heated just thinking about it. Who knew he liked a little role play off the stage?
Malika shot her a knowing grin.
Corinne scooped up a bite of pie and studied her friend. “He told me you came to see him.”
One dark brow arched up. “Mad I interfered?”
“Do I look mad?”
“You look happy. He makes you happy. I’m so glad you gave him another chance.”
“Me too. He does make me happy.” And at last, finally, she didn’t feel guilty about it.
“How was y’all’s weekend down in Lost Beach?”
Tucker’s answer to some downtime was to sweep her and Kurt off to the Mississippi coast for a long weekend beach vacation. Corinne had worried about taking more time off work, but Mama Pearl was so excited about the win, she’d practically shoved them out the door.
“It was fun. Kurt loved the ocean. He and Tucker swam and made sand castles, and I got to lay on a towel and do nothing for whole hours at a time. I actually napped. It was glorious.” And for those three days, they’d felt like a family. Everything in Corinne wanted that future, that life, with him. Tucker wanted them—both of them—but that kind of dream was a ways off. Despite how long they’d known each other, they’d only been together for a little while. She couldn’t let her heart run away with the rest of her. But it was hard to hang on to practicality when faced with such a man.
“You absolutely deserved the break,” Malika declared.
Checking the clock, Corinne said, “Speaking of break, mine’s nearly over. I should finish my pie.” She dug into it in earnest.
They chatted a few more minutes as they demolished the pie, discussing other job opportunities and plans for upcoming months. Malika was considering a traveling nurse position to see some more of the country. Corinne had the sense she’d prefer that to being locked in at the hospital here. It was good money and a good opportunity since her friend wasn’t tied down by anything. But, man, she’d miss her.
At the end of her break, Corinne rose, plate in hand to head back to the kitchen. The bell over the door jangled as another customer came in.
“I’ll be right with you. I just need to…” She trailed off as she recognized Pat
ton Holifield, Managing Director and CEO of Wilton Memorial. Hastily, she set the plate back on the table, surreptitiously wiping her hands on her apron. “Mr. Holifield. What can I get for you, sir?”
“I actually came to speak with you, if you can spare a moment.”
“Of course.” Corinne’s heart beat thick in her throat. Why was he here? Surely they didn’t give rejections in person. Maybe it had nothing to do with the hospital job at all.
God, she needed something to do with her hands. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“No, that’s all right. This won’t take long.” He gestured toward the door. Away from prying ears.
Swallowing back the nerves, Corinne caught Omar’s eye through the window into the kitchen and jerked her head to indicate she’d be right back. Then she followed Mr. Holifield outside.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m here, so I’ll get straight to the point.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“We had two dozen applicants for the two nursing positions open at the hospital. As you know, we conducted panel interviews with all the candidates. Though yours went well, certain members of the board had some concerns about your suitability as a candidate.”
Corinne’s heart fell. So this was a rejection. She’d known there was a strong chance she wouldn’t get the job, but this? The head of the board had come all the way down here to tell her in person. What? The form letter rejection wasn’t good enough? She’d earned personal humiliation?
“I see,” she said, though she didn’t.
“I’m not finished.”
What more was there to say?
“When pressed to provide reasons for those objections, it became clear they were allowing personal feelings to get in the way of their decision making. Your three recommendations were excellent, as were all your performance reviews during your internship at the hospital.”
Corinne blinked. “I’m sorry. My three recommendations? I only submitted two.”
“Only two were required. But a third one came in last week that I simply couldn’t ignore.”
“From who?”
“Whitney Harrington. My goddaughter.”
This was Whitney’s godfather? Corinne’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Mr. Holifield didn’t seem to need her acknowledgment to continue the conversation.
“You fought for her. Literally. You succeeded in getting her out of a horrific situation where many of the rest of us failed. I want that kind of strength and passion in my hospital, Miss Dawson. So I’m here to offer you the job.”
Corinne stared at him. She’d gotten the job?
He continued on, reeling off starting salary, benefits and the like, but she heard almost none of it until he asked, “What do you say?”
“Yes.” She had to force the word past lips frozen with shock. “Yes, I’d love to take the job. When do I start?”
“First of the month. You’ll need to come by human resources and fill out some paperwork, of course. But we look forward to having you as part of the Wilton Memorial team.” He offered his hand.
Corinne took it. “Thank you. Thank you, sir. I can’t tell you what this means to me.” It was everything she’d been working for. The thing that would mean her independence from her mother. What would allow them to move out into their own place and finally have more than the bare minimum in their life. She’d done it.
She had to tell Tucker.
They said their goodbyes and Corinne watched as he got into his car. Before his tail lights disappeared around the corner, she’d hit a dead run. People stared as she raced across the town green, but she paid no attention. She didn’t stop until she stumbled, gasping for air, through the front door of Tucker’s office.
Mrs. Prescott looked up from her desk, “Well, my Lord. Are you okay, honey?”
Unable to speak for sucking in air, Corinne just nodded and gestured vaguely toward Tucker’s office, hoping the woman would understand the question of whether he was in and if he was alone.
The man himself emerged, a folder in hand. “Mrs. P, do you know if— Corinne?” He dropped the folder, crossing to her in two strides. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to Kurt?”
Corinne shook her head. “Nothing wrong.” Gracious, she hadn’t run full tilt like this since high school. She sucked in another lungful of air. “Got the job.”
“You got the hospital job? Here at Wilton Memorial?”
She nodded.
He gave a great whoop and spun her around in a bear hug. “That’s fantastic!”
Getting her breath back, she grinned. “Ran all the way here to tell you.”
“So I see. Aren’t you on shift?”
“I am. And I—” She hissed a breath. “Oh, good Lord, I left Malika sitting at the diner.”
Tucker laughed. “You could’ve called.”
“Never even crossed my mind. I wanted to tell you first.”
Vivian stuck her head out from her office down the hall. “Hey Corinne, Mama’s on the phone. She’s looking for you.”
“Tell her I’m bringing her back now,” Tucker said, “and to ready the celebratory pie.”
“I just finished a piece in honor of passing the NCLEX.”
He held open the door for her. “And your point is?”
She laughed. “You’re as bad as Kurt wanting second dessert.”
“My dear girl, life is far too short not to celebrate all the great moments with pie. This is another of those moments.”
Corinne slid her hand in his, not caring about the pie but just that she got to celebrate this with him. “Point taken.”
Epilogue
2 Months Later
“Speakeasy is jumping tonight, so they said the pizza will be ready in about an hour,” Corinne said.
They weren’t actually that busy, but Tucker had enlisted Natalie Mercer, the manager, to give him the necessary lead time to execute his plan.
“Well that’s fine. I’ve got something in mind to kill some time before we go pick it up. You up for a little adventure, Kurt?”
“Always!” He leapt up and Tucker watched him like a hawk.
Maybe it wasn’t a hundred percent smart to loop the five-year-old in on things. Tucker didn’t have complete confidence the kid wouldn’t blow the surprise in his excitement. But so far, he’d managed to sit on the piece he knew without saying a word.
“What did you have in mind?” Corinne asked.
“I know you’re still looking for a place. A guy I know has one for rent that I think might be perfect. I thought we could take a field trip to go see it.”
“Getting kind of dark out for peeking in the windows,” she observed.
“I borrowed the keys. He said we could take all the time we wanted to look around.”
She gave him a little bit of side eye but didn’t argue. So they loaded up in the car and drove the couple of miles from his office to the two-story brick house on Barnard Street. The sun had already sunk behind the big trees shading the yard.
“Are you insane? There’s no way this is in my price range. And there’s not even a for rent sign.”
“He just put it on the market. And before you say no, let’s at least look. Gotta kill some time before we get the pizza.”
Again with the side eye, but she got out of the car. Kurt scrambled up the walk ahead of them. It was a little weedy and the flowerbeds needed some TLC, but some fresh plantings and mulch would go a long way. The front door and shutters had a fresh coat of dark brown paint that set off the cream painted brick.
“It’s a bit of a fixer upper, he told me.” Tucker unlocked the door and stepped inside, flipping on lights as he went. “Three bedroom, two-and-a-half bath, with a sort of office space. It’s a couple of decades old, but solidly built. Original hardwoods throughout. Kinda scuffed, but they’d refinish easy. And the walls are all pale neutral, so you’d have the option to paint whatever colors you wanted without needing to prime.”
“Since when do landlor
ds allow tenants to do that kind of home improvement?”
“Well, he ran out of get up and go to do more himself, so I think he’d love it if somebody’d fix up the place some more. Pending his approval, of course.”
Tucker led her into the kitchen. “It’s dated, but paint and new hardware would go a long way toward helping that. And the appliances are new in the last five years.”
Kurt wandered over to peer out the big picture window overlooking the backyard. “There’s a fort!”
He was already racing for the back door when Corinne called, “Slow down, don’t run, and stay in the yard!”
“Okay!” In a flash, he was out the door.
“The people who lived here before had kids. Left the playset behind when they moved.”
“This is the kiss of death, Tucker. He’s going to be crushed when I tell him we aren’t moving here.” Her expression of exasperation and longing almost made him smile, but he managed to keep a straight face.
“Don’t make a decision yet. You haven’t seen the rest of the house yet.”
“I don’t need to see the rest of the house. I don’t need to fall in love with it any more myself. There’s no way this is in the budget.”
“So you admit you like the house?” he pressed.
“Of course I like the house. It’s a great house. Good bones, lots of potential. There’s even a fenced yard for the dog Kurt’s been begging for. You’re right, it is perfect. But I’m just not there yet. Maybe after I finish my BSN and get the commensurate pay increase , but that’ll be a good long while.”
Tucker reeled her in, lacing his hands at the small of her back. “The landlord’s flexible on rent.”
“Unless he’s a candidate for Cirque de Soleil, I doubt it’ll be enough. It was a sweet thought, Tucker, but I don’t think this is going to work out.” She pulled away and went to the door to call Kurt back inside.
Tucker snagged her hand again. “We’ve got some more time before we need to get the pizza. Let him play a bit.”