“Do you want to go home?” She put her hand on his shoulder. “I can probably handle class myself tonight. Or maybe Brian or Doug can come over to help.”
He shook his head. “I’ll be okay. Thanks. After I finished talking to Louisa’s mom, I considered staying home tonight. I think Louisa would want me here, not sitting there crying over her. I’m going to miss her, because we’d become good friends.” Tears trickled down his cheeks, and he brushed them away. “I want to be here tonight. Maybe after class, you and I can practice for this weekend. The competition this year won’t only be in honor of Emma, it’ll be in honor of Louisa too, and I want everything to be amazing.”
“If you’re sure you want to be here, I’m glad.” She hugged him. “If you need a break, let me know. I’m here for you.”
“I’m glad you are.”
She didn’t feel like she’d done enough for him, but she didn’t know what else to do. Offer her sympathy and her shoulder, and be his assistant and dance partner. His lover, she added. I can be that for him too.
They went over the music for class, just as they always did. Two couples arrived earlier than usual for class, one of them the couple who had asked about the charity competition. “We heard the event this weekend is canceled,” the wife said. “Something about one of the organizers?”
“It isn’t canceled,” Stefan replied firmly. “Who did you hear that from?”
“The woman who signed us up called us a little while ago,” the husband replied. “She said that—Are you all right?”
Erin put her hand on Stefan’s arm. He put his own hand over it. “I’m fine,” he said. “I lost someone close to me this morning. She helped organize that competition, which I’m sure is why you received that call. However, everything’s proceeding as planned. If you’ll excuse me, I need to make a phone call.” He pulled away from Erin and walked out of the room.
“I’m sorry,” the other woman said. “I didn’t mean to upset him.”
“He was already upset,” Erin replied. “I think there’s just a misunderstanding about how they’re going to proceed with the event now. I wouldn’t worry.”
She did worry fifteen minutes later, when all the students had arrived and Stefan hadn’t returned.
She muddled through class without him, choosing one of the male regulars to help her demonstrate steps and making corrections to the students’ dancing as best she could. As part of preparing to instruct, she’d learned to lead as well as follow, so she was able to teach the class without Stefan. She just didn’t like having to, especially since he’d insisted he would stay.
At the end of class, she brushed off students’ attempts at chatting and questions and hurried down to the parking lot. Stefan’s car was gone.
“Erin?” The man who’d helped her in class came outside. “Do you need help packing up upstairs? Stefan doesn’t usually leave the laptop here, does he?”
“No.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll take care of it, thanks. Have fun with the social dancing. You are staying, right?”
“Right.” He studied her. “And you aren’t.”
“I’m going to take Stefan’s stuff to his place.” She went past him back into the studio. “Thanks.”
He smiled. “Have a good night.”
Back upstairs, Erin packed up everything she knew Stefan usually took home with him, then tried calling him. His cell went straight to voice mail. She took everything down to her car then dialed his number again, with the same result.
“If you’re home crying, you’re going to have company,” she said out loud as she got into her car. “And if you aren’t, Gorilla and I’ll wait up for you.” Of course she wouldn’t be able to enter the house if Stefan wasn’t there. If she had to, she would wait in her car in front of his house until he returned.
His car sat in his driveway, and a single lamp illuminated the front window of his house. Carrying the laptop, Erin went to the back door and knocked. The inside door swung open abruptly, banging the wall behind it. Stefan stood there, puffy-eyed. After staring at her for a second, he opened the screen door. “I’m sorry I took off on you.”
“It’s okay.” She pushed past him and set the laptop on the island. “I managed. I told you I would. Knowing that I had to might have been nice, though. For a few minutes there I didn’t know whether to start without you or not.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. He sat on one of the stools, hands over his face. “I called the other organizers. They think we should cancel the event. Think going on with it would be disrespectful to Louisa’s family. Not that they’ve talked to her family. They’re just assuming.” He cleared his throat. “The competition isn’t even about Louisa! It’s about Emma. Louisa helped organize it, yes, but it isn’t in her honor.”
“Sure it is.” She sat beside him and rested her hand on his leg. “Louisa and Emma were friends, and they both loved to dance. You told me that earlier. You started the competition to raise money for cancer research in Emma’s honor. Emma isn’t the only person who’s ever had cancer, so in a way the event is in honor of everyone who’s ever had it. Including Louisa.”
He glared at her. “So you’re on their side?”
“No,” she said firmly. “I think the event should happen as scheduled. Because of Louisa. Because now cancer took someone else, which is all the more reason to raise money to find a cure. You said the people who want to cancel the event haven’t talked to Louisa’s family yet. Have you?”
“Not since they called to break the news.” His voice broke on a sob, and he swallowed hard. Erin took his hand, hoping to give him some comfort, and his mouth quirked into something that didn’t quite count as a smile. “I should call. Find out what the plans are as far as a memorial service, and also ask them about the competition. Shouldn’t I?”
“I will if you don’t want to,” she offered. “I think someone should. You said she helped organize this thing every year. That means her family knows about it. Shouldn’t they be the ones to say whether losing her should mean canceling?”
“Yeah. I’ll call.” He took his cell from his pocket and stared at the display. “You called. Twice.”
“After class. I wanted to find out whether you’d come home and if you were all right.” She tapped the display. “You didn’t answer.”
“I had it on vibrate.” He flipped open the phone and dialed a number. “I’m going to the bedroom. I think this would be better in private.”
“Sure.” She slid off her stool. “I’ll find myself something to drink, and have you walked Gorilla lately?”
“He’s hiding. Call him, if you don’t mind taking him out.” Stefan paused. “Hello, Mrs. Golding? It’s Stefan Webber.” He walked down the hall.
As soon as he closed the bedroom door, Gorilla trotted out of the spare room and walked up to Erin to sniff her foot. She laughed. “I’m sure my shoe smells very interesting. Want a walk?”
The dog looked up, perking his ears. Grinning, Erin found his leash, hooked it to his collar, and took him outside.
They walked up and down the street a few times, since she didn’t know the neighborhood well enough to take him anywhere else. Each time they passed Stefan’s house again, she looked to see whether he’d shut off the bedroom light. Each time, the light still shone from the bedroom window, which she assumed meant Stefan hadn’t yet finished his phone call. She didn’t want to interrupt his call, and Gorilla seemed perfectly content to keep walking, so they did.
On their sixth trip past the house, Stefan opened the front door and waved. “What the heck are you doing?”
Against Gorilla’s will, Erin dragged the dog up the walk. “Giving you some privacy. Can we come back inside now?”
“Bring him in the back door, please.” Stefan nodded toward the side of the house. “I don’t want him thinking he’s people or something and has front door privileges.”
“Good point.” Erin bent and scratched behind the dog’s ears. Gorilla looked up at her with a tong
ue-lolling grin. “I think he already thinks he’s people.”
Stefan smiled. “Quite possibly. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
Erin took Gorilla to the other door and brought him inside. He trotted off down the hall to the spare room without waiting for anyone to remove the leash. “He’ll ask for it to be taken off eventually,” Stefan said, leaning against the counter.
“Ask?” Erin raised an eyebrow. “Seems like you think he’s human too.”
“Sometimes I wonder.” He rubbed his forehead. “Sometimes I wish he was. Living in my own home is nice. I’d like it even better if I had a companion I could actually have a conversation with.”
Erin chose not to respond to that comment. “How did your phone call go?”
“I’m not sure,” he replied slowly. “Well, half not sure. The call with Mrs. Golding went great. She said she and the rest of Louisa’s family really like the idea of making the competition in honor of Louisa this year, and that Louisa told her the other day that she wants the event to go on no matter what.” He sniffled, and Erin handed him a piece of paper towel. “Thanks. I, um, I’m not doing too well, I guess.” He wiped his nose and eyes.
“You lost a friend.” She put her hand on his arm. “I know how it feels. Do you want to be alone, or should I stay?”
“Stay for a while, if you don’t mind.” He blotted his eyes with a dry corner of the paper towel. “I know you’ll want to go home, and that’s fine. I just kind of want someone here for a little longer.”
I’ll stay the night if you want. Erin didn’t allow herself to say the words out loud. If she spent the night, she’d be doing so out of sympathy, and she didn’t believe that to be a good enough reason.
She went to the fridge and took out two cans of diet soda. “Mind if I help myself?” She held out a can to Stefan. “And of course, since it’s yours, you’re welcome to a can.”
He managed a faint smile. “Thanks. I’d rather have water. You can always help yourself when you’re here.”
She put away one of the cans and took out a bottle of flavored spring water, which she set on the counter beside him. Without opening the other can, she stood beside him again, as close as possible in the hope that he would find some comfort in her presence. “So it sounds like Mrs. Golding and Louisa’s family want you to hold the competition.”
“They do.” He took a sip of water. “I’m not the sole decision-maker, and the others involved don’t seem to want to hear that Louisa would want us to go on. We’re having a meeting in the morning to discuss it.” His voice became a snarl. “What’s to discuss? She’s gone. Canceling isn’t going to do her any good.”
“Do you want me to go to the meeting with you?” She would call in sick to work if he wanted her support. If he needed her, she wanted to be there for him.
“Closed meeting,” he muttered. “I’d ask you to come along and wait outside for me, except I think that would bore the heck out of you. You have no idea how long some of the committee members can talk. Thank you for offering, though.”
“You’re welcome.” She took his hand. “Let’s go into the living room. The couch is more comfortable than your counter.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Hand in hand, they walked into the other room. When they sat down, neither of them spoke. After a few moments, Stefan began to tremble, and Erin realized he was crying. She put her arm around him and pulled his head down onto her shoulder. He leaned against her, and she felt his tears through her shirt.
Finally, he sat up and brushed his hands over his face. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Erin replied. She reached out a fingertip to wipe away a stray tear on his cheek. Those idiots better not cancel the competition. They don’t understand how much it means to him.
“You’re here.” He took her hand in both of his. “I’m supposed to be wooing you, not crying on your shoulder.”
“Wooing?” She laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think you need to do that. As for crying, it’s my shoulder and I’ll let you cry on it if you want to. Like I said, I know how losing a friend feels.” She paused. “Who else is on the committee?”
“Never mind.” He gave her a thin smile. “I know what you’re thinking. I can see it on your face. You want to tromp in there and give them what-for, tell them just what you think of them for trying to cancel this. I’m afraid your input won’t help, Erin. They’re going to make their decision based on the arguments for and against, and only the committee members are allowed to argue. I really, really appreciate your support, though.”
“I’m standing up for you,” she pointed out. “And for Emma and Louisa. And for Scott, even though he d—we lost him a different way. This is for everyone who’s lost someone or might lose someone, and they’d be stupid to cancel it.”
He stared at her, and she looked away. Maybe she’d gone overboard. She hadn’t realized she felt so strongly about the situation until she’d begun talking. Now, she completely understood what the competition meant to Stefan and the others who took part. And what competing again would mean to her.
“Wow,” Stefan said finally. “I wish they would let me bring you in there. If you said that to them and it didn’t convince them, nothing would. Mind if I use it?”
“Please do.” She moved over to lean against him. “Can I do anything else to help?”
“You’ve done a lot.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’d like to get some sleep now. I’ll call you tomorrow after the meeting and let you know what happens, okay?”
She didn’t want to go home. The times he’d asked her to stay before, she’d felt too trapped and too rushed to accept. Now she wanted to spend the night with him to offer him some kind of comfort. Even if they only slept next to each other in his bed, at least she would be there for him.
Tonight wouldn’t be the right time to stay. “Yeah. That would be good.” She touched her lips to his. “Sleep well.”
Without waiting for a reply, she left.
You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This
Chapter Ten
Just as Erin clocked out for lunch the next day, her cell phone rang, with Stefan’s number showing on the display. “It’s on!” he shouted when she answered.
She rubbed her ear, smiling at the news. “That’s great. If you deafen me, I won’t be able to hear the music to dance with you.”
He chuckled. “Sorry. I guess I might be just a tad excited. Somehow Louisa’s father found out about the meeting and showed up. A couple of committee members didn’t want to let him speak. The rest of us overruled them and let him in. Between him talking about how much the competition meant to Louisa and my paraphrasing of what you said last night, they decided to go on with the event as planned, with the addition of a tribute to Louisa.” He paused. “I hoped you might help with that.”
“I didn’t know her,” she pointed out. “I mean, of course I’ll help if I can. I just don’t know what I’d bring to it.”
“Scott.”
She took a deep breath. She’d said herself that the competition should be for everyone who’d lost someone. That included her. She’d learned to dance from her heart because she’d never been taught any other way, yet since she’d lost Scott her heart hadn’t truly been in it. Time to change that. Past time.
“Special routine?” she suggested.
“Meet me at the studio tonight and we’ll talk about it.”
She smiled. “I’ll be there.”
Through the rest of the day, part of her mind worked on coming up with a song and steps for the tribute to Louisa and Scott. A few times, customers caught her daydreaming, and she had to apologize to one woman who complained to the manager about her. She didn’t care. Finding the right dance was more important.
At the end of the workday, she called Merit and left a voicemail telling him she’d be late coming home, then drove to the studio. Stefan sat on the trunk of his car in the parking lot and jumped down when she parked beside him. “I have a few ideas.”
“Me too.” She nodded toward his laptop, which sat on the front seat of his car. “We’re going to need music.”
“Already took care of that,” he replied.
“We’ll see.” She unlocked the studio door. “Let’s go to work.”
Instead of going upstairs, they went into the main room where they’d have more space to work. Stefan plugged in the laptop and turned it on. “You’re going to like this song,” he said.
“What happens if I have a song I like better?” she teased. “Don’t I have a vote?”
“Of course you do. I think this one’s perfect, though.” He clicked on the playlist and the opening strains of an old country song filled the room. “Just listen. Don’t dance right now. We’ll figure that out afterward.”
The song was about not having regrets, about being glad to have shared a “dance” with someone even though it ended painfully. As a child, Erin had loved the song. She’d nearly forgotten it as she’d grown up. Hearing the words now, tears filled her eyes and her heart ached. “You’re right,” she said softly. “It’s perfect.”
He shut off the music. “Then let’s figure out the steps.”
For the next few hours, they forgot anything other than the dance. Over and over, Stefan played the song while they experimented with steps and variations, trying to find just the right combination to fit the music and the emotions behind their movements. When Erin’s stomach growled, she ignored it. They had only two days before the competition, and working out this routine was more important than eating.
Finally, Stefan shut down the laptop. “It’s late and I’m starving,” he said. “I think we have what we need. How about you?”
“I think Scott and Louisa would like it.” She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. “We have a lot of practicing to do if we want to be ready for Saturday.”
“Yeah, and we will practice more another time. Not tonight.” He took her hands in his. “Let’s have something to eat. I’ll take you out or we can go back to my place, your choice. Tomorrow we can practice before and/or after class, whatever works best for you, and Friday…” He trailed off and glanced at the calendar on the wall. “Friday there’s something going on here. Maybe we can practice at my house? If I move stuff around in the living room, we’ll have enough space.”
You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This Page 8