Huntington Family Series

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  After Gunnar, Kerrianne danced with three other men. Two were older, one with white hair who smelled like mint, and the other with graying hair who reeked with an unpleasant smell of body odor. With the vigorous way he danced, Kerrianne wasn’t surprised, and she gave silent thanks that the song was a fast one so she wouldn’t have to be too close. Both of the older men were polite and addressed her with respect. The other man was near her own age and seemed nice, except that he kept telling her how pretty she was, which made her mentally roll her eyes.

  Then the blond Gunnar returned for a second dance. Kerrianne was feeling a little breathless and was glad it was a slow song. Gunnar’s cologne was no longer so strong—either that or she’d become accustomed to it. “So, are you having fun?”

  “Yes, actually.”

  He pulled her slightly closer—or was she imagining it?

  “So, what’s your story?” he asked.

  “You first.” She didn’t feel like discussing her life with a near stranger.

  “I’m divorced. I have four daughters with my ex. They live with her, but I see them every other weekend.”

  Kerrianne felt an ache in her heart. In a way, she was lucky. At least she wasn’t forced to watch her children leave every other weekend. Not being with them . . . well, she couldn’t imagine it, though surely there must be some way to muddle through such a situation, as Evie and Rosalva had done.

  “Hello?” Gunnar waved a hand in the air by her face. “Is everything okay?”

  “Sorry. I was thinking. It must be a challenge sharing custody like that. I have three children.”

  “You don’t share custody?” He was holding her too tightly, so she stepped purposefully away.

  “No.”She could tell he was curious but had enough control not to probe. Instead, he looked at her expectantly, though she had no intention of elaborating yet. And why was he trying to hold her so close again? Or was it just her? Maybe she couldn’t remember how this slow-dancing thing was supposed to go.

  Kerrianne was thinking so hard about this and trying to extricate herself from Gunnar’s grasp that she almost didn’t catch the movement of a solitary figure watching them from the sidelines. He seemed familiar, and yet she couldn’t place him. Then he saw her gaze and smiled.

  Ryan, she thought. He’d shaved, and his hair was several inches shorter than the day before, which apparently brought out more of the curl, making it attractively messy. She could imagine that if it were any shorter, the curls might be out of control. No wonder he keeps it that length, she mused. He looked handsome in dark dress pants and a long-sleeve button-up shirt with multicolored vertical stripes. There was a wine color, and black, and two shades of green, and yellow. He wasn’t wearing a tie, and the first button was open, giving a more casual air to the outfit. His smile made her forget all about Gunnar and her worry about dancing too close.

  The music ended, but Gunnar kept holding her arm. “How about another one?”

  “I think I’m ready for a drink,” she said, still thinking about Ryan. Had he been planning to take her to this dance when he’d asked her out? She wondered if she’d ever know. He was hidden from her sight now. Could he be dancing? Why did that thought bother her?

  Gunnar went with her to the refreshment table, offering her a drink of punch and then snagging a couple cookies for himself. They were silent as they watched the dancers. More people had arrived, and the place was beginning to seem almost crowded.

  “Are there always so many people?” she asked.

  “It really depends on the night and what else is going on.”

  “What else is going on? What do you mean?”

  “Some nights there are more activities.”

  “I see.” It was a whole community, then. One she hadn’t realized existed. Well, at least not for people her age.

  “So what’s your last name?” Gunnar asked.

  “Price.”

  “And you have three children?”

  “Yes. A girl and two boys. The oldest is eight. They keep me busy.” She almost hoped that fact would drive him away. The older men had chuckled when she told them about the kids, and she’d had the impression that her lifestyle was not something they were looking to share. She couldn’t blame them; they’d already raised their families.

  “I’d like to see you again. Could I call?”

  Kerrianne bit her lip. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “Don’t take this wrong, but I didn’t even know I was coming here tonight. Some friends made me. I’m not sure I’m ready for dating.”

  “How long has it been?”

  Been what? she wondered. Since she’d been divorced? Been dancing? Been in mourning? Should she tell him that four years ago everything in her life had stopped? No, it wouldn’t be true. After all, here she was. And the children were waiting for her at home.

  The music ended while she pondered her response. Why did she have to tell him anything? She suddenly felt like a package in a marketplace and Gunnar was checking the contents label to be sure she was to his liking.

  Strains of “All Out of Love,” by Air Supply, made Kerrianne freeze. Adam had loved this old song and had often performed it for her with his guitar. She was immediately swept into the past with the music, which feeling only intensified when the words started.

  “Are you okay?” Gunnar asked, concern in his voice.

  He was faceless to her, as though he didn’t exist. There was only her and the music. And Adam. She thrust her cup unsteadily in his direction. “Excuse me. I have to go.”

  She fled toward the upright rectangle of light that marked the entrance. Someone, not Gunnar, called out her name, but she didn’t stop.

  The singer crooned on.

  Blindly, Kerrianne passed the two women at the entry table and made for the foyer. There were people there, so she turned to the right, trying to open the door to the chapel overflow. It was locked. She went farther down the hall, but all the doors were locked. Finally, she found an open door that led into a tiny, dark room where the boys prepared the sacrament. She went inside, telling herself to breathe, that it was okay. She could still hear the music, though it was much fainter now. Any words that were obscured were immediately filled in by her memory. Almost she felt as if Adam were singing the song to her.

  She leaned against the tiny counter and hoped no one would open the door. Was Gunnar still standing by the refreshment table? Wondering, perhaps, why she’d deserted him? And who had called her name? She didn’t think it was Maxine.

  The song wound down to the end. Still Kerrianne stayed where she was. Finally, she could breathe normally again. This had happened to her a great many times in the beginning, but not as much now. Probably the fact that she was dancing with other men had triggered this reaction. Did Adam think her unfaithful? No, she couldn’t believe that.

  At last she left the room and went outside into the dark night, shivering because her sweater jacket was still hanging near the entrance to the gym. The frosty air made her lungs hurt if she breathed too deeply, but she didn’t mind. It also made her feel alive.

  * * *

  Ryan watched Kerrianne near the refreshment table with Gunnar, annoyed at the man, though he supposed he had no right to feel that way. Abruptly, she shoved her cup at Gunnar and started across the room, leaving Gunnar with mouth agape. Had the man said something inappropriate?

  “Kerrianne!” He called, wanting to help.

  She took no notice of him, apparently blind to everything but her destination. Either that or the music drowned out his call. Should he follow her and ask what had happened?

  Maxine appeared at his elbow. “Stupid song. And things were going so well.”

  “The song?” he asked. Kerrianne had nearly reached the door to the gym.

  “Her husband played the guitar. This song is on one of the tapes. She plays it a lot for the children.” Maxine blinked up at him, appearing to notice his face for the first time. “I think I like you better the other way after all.
You looked more dashing—dangerous.”

  He made a face. “Not a good thing when you’re visiting houses of strangers every day.”

  “Nonsense. You have honest eyes.” Her own eyes delved into his.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Why don’t you go after her?”

  Ryan looked longingly at the door. He didn’t want to intrude where he wasn’t wanted. “Maybe she wants to be left alone.”

  “She’s been alone enough these past four years.”

  Maxine had a point. Ryan started across the room without another word. He emerged from the gym in time to see Kerrianne disappear into a room at the end of the hall. He debated within himself what to do, but there was no real choice. Maxine or no, he didn’t have the right to barge in on a woman seeking solace—he wasn’t close enough to her for that. He had to respect her privacy, knowing only too well that some things needed to be conquered alone. He waited in the hallway, talking with two nice women he’d met at other dances.

  At last, from the corner of his eye, he saw Kerrianne leave the room. She didn’t come his way but rather went out the far door. Ryan extricated himself from the women and sprinted after her.

  * * *

  Kerrianne had circled the church once when a voice stopped her. “Oh, there you are.”

  She glanced behind her, expecting to see Maxine or one her friends, but it was Ryan. “Hi,” she said, glad she hadn’t let her tears fall.

  “I wondered where you went. Is everything all right?”

  She nodded. “Just needed some air.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “It does?” She looked at him and saw his amused expression.

  “Yeah, you were with Gunnar. It’s no wonder you needed space . . . uh, air.”

  “He is a little too familiar, but I thought it might be just me.”

  “It’s not.”

  She shivered. “I think I’m cold now.”

  “We’ll have to go to the other door. They keep most of them locked.”

  They walked in silence for a space of a few heartbeats, and then Ryan said, “You like to dance, don’t you? I can tell.”

  So he’d been watching her. “I love to dance. My . . . husband and I danced a lot.”

  Ryan laughed. “Laurie and I did, too, before we were married. We didn’t after, though. Mostly because of me. I regret that now.”

  “There’s too much to regret, isn’t there?”

  He gave her a wry grin. “Yeah.”

  “Adam loved music. He loved to sing.” Kerrianne didn’t know why she said this. Was it to put space between them? Or was it simply because she wanted someone to share the memory with?

  “It’s hard hearing a song they liked. Or that you liked with them.” His gray eyes looked black in the darkness.

  He knew. She didn’t know how, but he knew why she’d left the dance. Or at least guessed at the cause. He opened the door for her and followed her inside. The music burst in on them, though they were still around the corner from the gym doors.

  “Would you like to dance?” His expression was guarded, as though half expecting her to refuse.

  Kerrianne smiled. “Yes, I think I would.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Ryan led Kerrianne onto the floor. The music was fast, but he figured it was probably better this way. She needed some time to recover. She smiled at him and instead of the knots her smile usually caused in his stomach, he simply felt content to be with her.

  “So,” she said now, raising her voice to be heard over the music, “you come here a lot?”

  He shrugged. “I used to. Not so much anymore. You see, I asked this really gorgeous woman out tonight, and she said no. I needed something to boost my spirits.” He spoke teasingly and saw that she was pleased with his lighthearted approach. They danced in companionable silence until the end of the song. He saw both Gunnar and a solid block of a man making their way toward them, but he took her arm and steered her around a clump of people.

  “Another dance?” he asked.

  She nodded mutely, almost shyly.

  The music began, soft and slow. Sending a silent thanks heavenward, he put his arms around her, keeping a respectful distance between them, though it took a lot of effort.

  “So,” she said after a minute, “is this where you were going to take that gorgeous woman?”

  He laughed. “Not on your life. I would have taken her to a place where there were only married couples. I can’t take the competition.”

  “Competition?”

  He tilted his head toward the side where Gunnar was watching them. “I keep having to steer you away from him and another fellow.”

  She was grinning. “You mean Reuben?”

  “No, that solid-looking guy over there by that blonde lady. He must have played football.”

  “You’re imagining things. I don’t know him. We haven’t even danced.”

  “See what I mean? Competition.” The playfulness of their words made Ryan feel young and foolish but also like laughing.

  “Well, what about her?” Kerrianne indicated a woman who was dancing with a partner but staring soulfully at Ryan.

  “Michelle,” he said. “We went out a few times. She’s a nice woman, but . . .”

  “She has six children?”

  “No. At least not that she told me, anyway. It just wasn’t right.”

  “Is that what you want? Something that’s right?”

  “Don’t you?”

  She seemed to freeze in his arms but almost immediately relaxed. “To tell the truth, I thought I’d only have to look for something right just once in my life. I never thought I’d need to find it again.” She gave him a wistful smile that made him feel protective.

  “I know what you mean.”

  “That’s what I like about you. You’ve been there.” She spread her fingers, indicating the other dancers. “All the others I’ve danced with so far don’t quite understand. Their spouses didn’t die.” Her voice was matter-of-fact. “Well, except for one of the older gentlemen. Oh, and Harold.”

  “Harold? Wait, I’ve heard that name before. You mean Maxine’s Harold?” When she nodded, he continued, “Where is he? I’ve got to meet this guy. I’ve seen them around, but I’ve never actually met him.”

  “I’ll introduce you. He’s a handsome guy. I think they’re perfect together.”

  The light mood was back, and Ryan was grateful. After the song ended, Kerrianne took him to meet Harold, who was sitting on the chair by the wall looking rather winded. Maxine was dancing with Reuben.

  “Harold, this is Ryan. He’s the man who delivers our mail.”

  “The actor?” Harold stood and shook Ryan’s hand. “Maxine’s a big fan of yours. I tell you, the way she talks about you, I’m thinking about becoming a thespian myself. I never wanted to act, but if doing so helped me impress Maxine, it would be worth it.”

  “It’s a lot of fun. We’re having tryouts after Christmas for the next play. You should come.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  Probably he wouldn’t, but Ryan had learned that you never knew who had a secret penchant for acting. As they talked, Gunnar suddenly appeared at Kerrianne’s side. “Would you like to dance?”

  Kerrianne shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I promised Ryan the next dance.” She looked at Ryan, as though daring him to call her bluff. “Maybe the one after.”

  They danced two more fast dances and another slow one. This time Ryan dared to hold her a little closer. They were talking so much, they almost didn’t notice the music had ended. Suddenly they were the only ones still holding each other in the whole room. Ryan was close enough to imagine the feel of the soft skin on her face and neck. She looked at him with wide blue eyes, and he wanted more than anything to kiss her.

  Don’t move too fast. The thought came out of nowhere.

  Over her shoulder, he saw Gunnar making a beeline toward them. “Don’t look now,” he said, “but Gunnar’s headed our way.”r />
  “I suppose I should dance with him.”

  “Not if you don’t want to.” He couldn’t help the hopefulness in his tone.

  She laughed. “Come on!” Grabbing his hand, she edged around a group of people who had now begun dancing again. Gunnar was lost to sight. Ryan felt heady with her impulsive action. They didn’t stop walking until they were out in the foyer. Kerrianne sank down on an empty couch, and Ryan sat next to her.

  “I haven’t done anything like that since high school,” she said, whispering so the couple on the couch opposite them wouldn’t hear. “I almost feel sorry for him.”

  “Don’t worry. He’s a popular guy. He’ll dance with someone else.”

  The talk drifted to the weather, their children, and finally to Ryan’s upcoming play. “You should try out,” he said. “It’s only community theater, but we have some good talent.”

  “What’s the play?”

  “We’re still haggling. Most of us want to do A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but some don’t want to because it won’t be summer yet. If we did go ahead with it, you could try for the part of Titiana. Or maybe Hermia.” For sure he’d love to play either Oberon or Lysander opposite her.

  “Oh, I’m sure there are a lot of actresses who’d be better for the part.”

  “You never know. We have a lot of young actors and a lot of older ones, but not as many around your age.” He hoped he’d phrased it inoffensively. Several women he’d dated had become quite angry whenever he’d mentioned age.

  Kerrianne wasn’t bothered. “That would take a lot of practicing, and I wouldn’t know what to do with my kids.”

  “Bring ’em. I bring mine. They have a lot of fun.”

  She shook her head. “I haven’t acted since high school. Besides, I’ve been thinking about starting a project that will take up my free time.”

  “Oh? Like what?”

  “I want to build a greenhouse.”

  “A greenhouse?”

  “Yeah. I love gardening, but there’s not much to do during the winter.” She frowned at the black night beyond the double set of glass doors to their right. The couple across from them arose and went outside, hand in hand.

  “My mother has a kind of greenhouse.” He regretted it almost the minute he said it.