by Maggie Way
Was this girl seriously only sixteen years old? “Uh, thanks,” John said. “I guess.”
Dropping a few of the dishes into the sink, Clara was careful not to let the water splash on her clothes. She was quiet for a few seconds before turning back around. “You should probably tell Gretchen how you feel, though, before someone tries to steal her from you.”
Carl. Every time John thought of that man he found himself wanting to punch something, preferably Carl’s face. He would try to take Gretchen if John gave him the chance.
“Go ahead, John. The band should have started playing by now,” Clara said, “and Gretchen looks beautiful tonight. Go dance with her.”
Maybe Clara was right. At the risk of scaring her away, he needed to tell Gretchen how he felt. Somehow he doubted Carl would be as gracious as Clara, and back off just because he knew John loved Gretchen. If he wanted to keep her in his life, he to make sure she knew how much he wanted her.
Chapter Thirty
Waltz
Standing in the doorway of the reception hall, John realized what Clara said about Gretchen had been an understatement. Gretchen didn’t look beautiful, she was gorgeous. The pale blue satin of her bride’s maid dress clung to her soft curves in just the right places and flowed loose exactly where it should have, accentuating her graceful walk. Faux diamonds ran down one strap, curved along the neck line, and disappeared over her other shoulder as they followed the strap to the back of the dress. Every time she shifted, the light bounced off the jewels, drawing John to her.
He had crossed half the room in a trance before Gretchen saw him and smiled. The pleasure in her eyes warmed John’s body. Waving him over to her drew the attention of the circle of friends she had around her. John recognized two of them from the party, but the rest were a mystery. They watched John eagerly as he approached.
Stepping up to Gretchen in his simple slacks and dress shirt, John felt rather underdressed. She didn’t seem to notice. Instead, she looped her arm through his and introduced him to everyone. John couldn’t remember their names two seconds after Gretchen said them, but they were all quick to compliment him on the food. John accepted their compliments politely, but it was hard to pay attention to what they were saying. He was too focused on Gretchen and what Clara had said.
Slowly the conversation returned to whatever it had been before he’d walked up, with the exception that Gretchen didn’t join back in. She leaned against John as she held onto him, looking peaceful and happy.
“The ceremony was beautiful,” she said. “I wish you could have been in there.”
“Me too,” John said. He pulled her to him. “Then I could have stared at you the whole time, instead of the hundreds of mini quiches I was baking. You look amazing.”
Blushing at the attention he was giving her in front of her friends, Gretchen ducked her head. John kissed the top of her head and hugged her even tighter. He couldn’t help wondering if she thought at all during the ceremony about whether they would ever get married. Did she wonder what her dress would look like, or what kind of flowers they would choose, or where they would go on their honeymoon?
Thinking about the same things had made it twice as hard for John to get through the catering job, but made it better at the same time. Thinking about Gretchen always helped him calm down when his fears about the future got to him. Being surrounded by wedding preparations all day kept John slightly distracted.
“So how about that dance?” John asked. “I promise not to freak out this time.”
Gretchen laughed, but there was a hint of worry, too. Still, she took his hand and led him over to the dance floor. They maneuvered through the crowd of single reception-goers waiting to be asked to dance, and John paused when he saw the dancers. Dancing at the restaurant had been an informal thing, people shuffling back and forth to the music. He froze at the sight of couples fluidly moving through a waltz. Suddenly, John realized why there were so many people watching instead of dancing. They weren’t waiting for a partner, they were too intimidated.
Finally realizing John wasn’t moving anymore, Gretchen looked back at him. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I don’t think I can do that,” he said, pointing to the dancers.
“Oh, don’t worry. We don’t have to waltz,” she said. “If I would have remembered how into dancing Melanie’s family was before, I would have taught you. It’s really not that hard.”
“Melanie has a very interesting family,” John said, still staring at the dancers.
Gretchen laughed and pulled him into the swirling people. They moved around them as Gretchen position one of John’s hands on her back and the other in her hand. Then for no apparent reason, all his nervousness disappeared. Feeling very comfortable poised to dance his princess around the ballroom, John looked down at Gretchen.
Except, he didn’t see Gretchen.
For a brief second when he blinked, another face flitted before his eyes. Waves of dark hair surrounded an angelic, heart-shaped face. She stood just as Gretchen did, ready to dance.
“Are you ready to give this a try?” Gretchen asked, banishing the image.
John took a deep breath to try to steady himself. Gretchen seemed to take it as nervousness and squeezed his hand reassuringly. John didn’t know what had just happened, but he focused all his energy on forgetting it. The image stayed, of course, but he pushed it far enough to the back of his mind that he could look back at Gretchen and smile.
“I’m ready,” he said.
Taking the lead, John stepped to the side…and then he kept going. In a perfect waltz. His feet carried him without thought. He seemed to know what to do without even thinking about it. Smiling with delight, Gretchen looked up at him. John returned her smile, but inwardly he cringed.
“I guess you do know how to do this,” she said with a laugh. “I suppose Dr. Sanchez was right about the whole functional memory thing. You’re a wonderful dancer.”
Her next question probably would have been whether he remembered ever dancing before if she hadn’t been enjoying herself so much. Gretchen tried harder to get John to remember things than he did. Rarely did she miss the chance to ask him if he remembered doing, tasting, or seeing something before. John always answered her questions, but he secretly wished she would stop asking him. Gretchen must have been incredibly distracted not to have seen the opportunity. Diverging from the regular steps, John twirled Gretchen, hoping to keep her mind occupied. He did not want to answer any questions about dancing.
Functional memory or not, John knew the face he had seen was the same one he saw the first night they danced together. Maybe the steps were easily being accessed from the same hidden portion of his brain that allowed him to remember how to walk and speak, but the face of the woman he had once danced with didn’t want to stay hidden anymore.
Part of John wanted to know who she was, why she didn’t look for him, where she was now, but a larger part of him never wanted to see her face again. The fact that she obviously hadn’t been bothered enough by his disappearance to find him tugged at the ball of anger and resentment John kept deep in his core. He had already decided to give up on who he used to be. Whatever life he’d had before meeting Gretchen, John had a new one with her. He wanted to keep it that way.
Flaring Gretchen out, John watched her dress swirl around her ankles before pulling her back in as the song ended. The music slowed, giving John a chance to keep Gretchen pulled tightly against him. Immediately resting her head against his chest, she sighed and swayed back and forth with him.
Clara’s words were still pounding in John’s mind. Seeing the face had only served to intensify the feeling that he needed to tell Gretchen how he truly felt about her. He was desperate to tell her, but there was a wave of fear buffeting his desire to speak. Actually, two waves of fear. One that told him would scare her away from him. One that said he would lose her if he didn’t.
Halfway through the song, John couldn’t stand it anymore. He decided to ta
ke the advice of a sixteen-year-old girl who had just tried to seduce him.
Chapter Thirty-One
Reaction
Standing at the front of the chapel earlier that day, it had been easy for Gretchen to pretend she was in Melanie’s place. She did it at every wedding, but this one was different. Even when she’d been dating Steve and was convinced he intended to propose, Gretchen wondered if he was the right guy. She wanted him to be right for her, but deep down she knew the way he treated her made him all wrong.
Knowing John was nearby, waiting to dance with her had Gretchen wishing she was the one walking down the aisle. Having him hold her in his arms was the next best thing. Gretchen listened to the smooth rhythm of the music as she let her dreams play in her mind. She would have been happy to stay in that moment forever, but John brought his fingers under her chin and tilted her head up to look at him.
“Gretchen,” he said, “I love you.”
He said it with such peace and hope. Gretchen, on the other hand, was shocked into silence. She wasn’t sure whether or not she was still dancing. Feeling had completely deserted her body. It felt as if the world had suddenly stopped, giving her a chance to think about her reaction.
Did she love John? She had spent so much time convincing herself—not to mention Carl—she didn’t, how she was only trying to help him, not seduce him, that finally admitting she did seemed like a betrayal of some kind. But to who? Deep down, Gretchen wanted to tell John she loved him. He had been pushing her lately, but that wasn't a bad thing. She needed to be pushed. She’d been stuck behind her fear for too long.
The night Steve told Gretchen he loved her had seemed so magical in the moment. She didn’t notice at the time how many glasses of wine he’d had with dinner, nor did she see the alcohol induced glaze in his eyes. Gretchen heard the words she wanted to hear from him so badly. It wasn’t until the next day when she told him again how much she loved him and he couldn’t even remember the conversation, and didn’t want to, that she realized her mistake.
Eventually, Steve told Gretchen he loved her again, but it had been hard to trust he meant it then. Staring at an anxious John, there were no signs of deceit, and no drunkenness in his eyes. There was fear which Gretchen understood, but there was honesty most of all. Letting herself love John in the face of the all too real possibility of losing him wasn’t easy. For some reason, that seemed to make it better, though, more real.
“Gretchen? Please say something. You’re killing me,” John pleaded.
How long had she been staring at him? The fear in his expression grew.
“John, I …” He didn’t give her the chance to finish.
“I know you weren’t expecting that, but…I needed to tell you.” He took a deep breath, but kept going. “I don’t mean to pressure you. I just want to make sure you know how I feel about you. You don’t even have to say anything if you don’t want to.” He paused. “Actually, maybe it’s better if you don’t say anything yet. Take some time to think about it.”
As if that were the end of the conversation just because he said it should be, John pulled her against his chest again. Gretchen pulled back, looking up at him.
“Wait a minute, John,” she said. “I want to say something.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, probably in fear, but the rest of him tried to look optimistic. “You don’t need to, Gretchen. I sprang this on you. I understand if you need to think about what I said.”
“I don’t need to think about it. I already know how I feel about you,” she said. John’s eyebrows rose hopefully, making her smile. “I love you too, John.”
His whole body relaxed. Gretchen’s exploded with joy. She wanted John to love her, not just need her, and now she knew he did. He knew she loved him, too. That was even more surprising to Gretchen than his sudden confession. She hadn’t been sure she would ever say that to anyone again. For the first time since leaving Steve, Gretchen’s heart felt whole. The scars were still there, but the wounds had finally closed.
“I didn’t mean to take so long to respond,” Gretchen said, “but you did surprise me. After the boyfriend conversation…I wasn’t prepared. I was surprised in a good way, though.”
John laughed, and said, “I kind of surprised myself, too.”
The song changed, but not the pace. More couples joined them on the floor as the non-waltzing music continued. Leaning against each other, they settled back into the rhythm of the song. Everything felt right in John’s arms. The pair moved slowly across the room, their feet barely leaving the floor, but Gretchen felt light as they danced.
All through the ceremony and dinner Gretchen had wondered what the future would hold for her. Would she ever walk down the aisle as a bride instead of a bridesmaid? Would John be the one waiting for her? She should have been thinking about her friends, but she was lost in thoughts about what it would feel like to know she was truly loved and not simply being used.
When John mentioned catering the wedding, at first she hadn’t been sure about it. She’d told him she would help, but secretly Gretchen hadn’t thought he should do it. It seemed too soon. Gretchen was happy to see how wrong she had been. He handled the pressure beautifully and came through on every promise made. It was Gretchen who hadn’t been ready. Fear John would find someone better, as he became more independent, was the real reason behind her lack of faith.
Gretchen had no other reason to doubt him. John had done amazingly well so far. He was determined to make his new life the best it could be. Gretchen had feared she wouldn’t be included in it. Worry still hung in the back of my mind, but his words sent much of it away. John loved her. She loved him. Gretchen couldn’t shake the euphoria, and she didn’t want to.
Nestling against John even more, Gretchen got the response she wanted. He hugged her even tighter and kissed her forehead.
“You know, I don’t think I ever told you how wonderful dinner was,” Gretchen said.
“Which entrée did you have?” he asked.
“The chicken Florentine. It was delicious. I don’t think I’ve ever had it before.”
“I hadn’t either until I tested out the recipe,” he admitted. “I really liked it, though. I’m glad Melanie chose it.”
Gretchen had argued with her mom before about her cooking ability, but in all honesty, she was useless in the kitchen. Her mom always said you only needed a recipe to be able to cook something. Gretchen knew it wasn't that simple. Her mom spent fifteen years trying to teach her how to sauté and poach things, but it never sunk in. John had taught himself in a few months how to cook anything and everything. He absolutely amazed her.
“Did you like doing this, or was it too stressful?” she asked.
“Oh, it was incredibly stressful,” John said, “but I loved it. I’m going to collapse when we get home and drown myself in TV for the rest of the night, but I had a lot of fun tonight.”
She loved his enthusiasm. Exhaustion and the feeling she had done something good that day was how Gretchen felt at the end of every school day. She understood his sentiment well. The real test was whether he wanted to do it again.
“So, how would you feel about catering a fiftieth anniversary party in two weeks?” she asked.
“What?” John asked.
Looking up at him, Gretchen saw the excitement in his eyes. She pulled him closer and kissed his lips before pulling back with a smile. “One of the wedding guests, a friend of Eric’s parents, needs a caterer for their anniversary party, and asked if you were available.”
His excitement pulled their slow dance into something a little more bouncy than the music called for, but she didn’t mind at all. “What did you tell them?” John asked. He was trying very hard to keep from grinning. Gretchen giggled at his goofy expression.
“I told them you would call them tomorrow to discuss it. I have their phone number in my purse.” Then Gretchen’s feet were pulled off the ground as John’s exuberant hug lifted her up.
“I can’t believ
e how this is working out. I never thought I would be able to cook for a living. I started doing this just to find out something about myself. Who would have thought one party for your parents would lead to two real catering jobs?” John said. “Thank you, Gretchen.”
“For what? This is all you, John,” she said.
“Thank you for getting me here. I love you so much.” His pace slowed again, matching the music once more.
The music may have been slow, but her heart was racing. Gretchen couldn’t get over hearing him tell her he loved her. She couldn’t even remember why she’d been worrying so much as she rocked back and forth in his arms. Instead of fearing what the future held, Gretchen was excited to find out.
“If you keep getting jobs every couple of weeks you’re going to have to find someone who can help you. I’ll help as much as I can, but you know how awful I am in the kitchen,” she said. John didn’t argue that one. He just smiled.
“Maybe you could get one or two of Mel’s nieces and nephews to help you out,” Gretchen suggested.
Stiffening slightly, John coughed awkwardly, his eyes darting around the room. “Uh, yeah, I’ll think about that,” John mumbled.
Now what was that all about? Gretchen wondered.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Misinterpreted
Waking up on the couch the next morning with a stiff neck wasn't exactly the way John had imagined waking up next to Gretchen for the first time. The little square throw pillow he’d stuck under his head the night before while watching a movie had squished down, leaving his head in a very awkward position. Gretchen, however, was sleeping comfortably as she used his arm for her pillow. Unfortunately, her comfort left John’s hand completely numb. Regardless of his discomfort, he wasn't about to move.