The Daddy Dance

by Mindy Klasky

  “Magic Zoo?”

  “Don’t you remember? It was a game that you invented, to entertain Rachel when she was recovering from that broken arm, the summer when you were six years old. The two of you and your cousin Amanda played it every single day!”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Of course you do! You had all sorts of elaborate rules. Each of you girls chose an animal, and then you drew crayons out of a bucket. Each color crayon corresponded to a different magical food. The foods gave you special powers—you could be a flying horse, or a talking elephant, things like that. The three of you played it for hours on end.”

  Kat blinked. She had absolutely no recollection of such make-believe games. She couldn’t imagine spending “hours on end” with Rachel—not without descending into screaming matches. Maybe Amanda had been a full-time referee?

  Susan sighed. “I guess I’m just saying that sometimes you need to be more of a kid. Don’t worry as much. Take whatever happens and just roll with it. Forget that you’re an adult, for just a little while.”

  “Like Rachel does, every day.” Kat said the words before she could stop herself, but even she was surprised by how bitter they sounded.

  Susan’s face grew even more serious. “Yes. If I were queen of the universe, I would give Rachel some of your maturity. And I would give you a little of her…what’s that phrase? The French one? Joie de vivre?”

  “I don’t think it’s joie de vivre to stay away from home when your own parents, your own daughter, need you. When was the last time you heard from Rachel? Do you have any idea when she’s planning on coming home?”

  “A postcard arrived just yesterday. It had a picture of the Eiffel Tower, but not the real one. She was in Las Vegas. At least that’s where the postmark was from.”

  A postcard, sent what? Three or four days ago? Rachel had to know the phone number here at the house, the one that hadn’t changed since they were children. She could have managed to call home, at least once. Responded to the text messages that Kat had sent. She obviously didn’t want to be found. She wasn’t ready to face up to her adult responsibilities.

  Kat fought to keep her voice even. “I’m sure she’s very happy there.”

  “Don’t judge your sister,” Susan said. “She’s never had a skill like yours. She’s never known what it means to succeed.”

  Kat bit back an acid response. Rachel had been given every opportunity Kat had; she had enjoyed the exact same chances in life. Even now, she could come back to Eden Falls, raise her daughter, do the right thing. She could help her parents and prove she was a responsible adult. But she’d rather play in Vegas, drawing out her childhood for countless more years.

  Susan sighed. “I sometimes think being twins messed everything up for you girls. Each of you was supposed to get a mixture of responsibility and fun. Of adulthood and childhood. Instead, all the grown-up qualities ended up with you and all the rest…” She let her words drift for a moment, and when she continued she softened her words with a smile. “I want you to have fun, Kat. Go stomping in mud puddles for a change. Somersault down a hill. Don’t always think about what something means for your future, for your career.”

  “Mama, I need to worry about my career. I’m a dancer. I don’t have much longer to prove myself to the company director.”

  Susan shook her head. “Sometimes I wonder if we did the right thing, sending you to New York.”

  “How can you say that?” Kat’s voice was etched with horror. She couldn’t imagine what her life would have been like without New York. Without dancing.

  “Don’t look so shocked,” Susan murmured. “Your father and I are very proud of you. But sometimes I worry that we took too much away from you by pushing you so hard. You had to grow up so young. You never got a chance to play, to make mistakes. You never even went to your senior prom. We just wanted you to be happy.”

  “I was happy,” Kat said. As if to convince herself of the truth behind her words, she went on. “I am happy, Mama. The day I stop being happy dancing is the day I’ll leave the company. I promise.” Susan still looked doubtful. As if to finish the conversation, once and for all, Kat leaned over and gave her mother a hug. “I love you, Mama. You and Daddy, too. And I love everything that you’ve let me become. Now, can I freshen up your cup of tea?”

  She pretended not to see the proud tears glinting in Susan’s eyes.

  A couple of hours later, after a lunch of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, Kat could see that her father was tiring. “Come on,” she said to Jenny. “Let’s go down to the park. Run off some of your energy.”

  Susan smiled gratefully as she saw them out the door. “Are you sure you’re all right walking there?”

  “It’s only two blocks,” Kat assured her. “That’s why they call this a walking boot.” She made a point of keeping her gait even as they made their way down the street.

  When they arrived at the park, it seemed as if half of Eden Falls was taking advantage of yet another unseasonably warm April day. Children screamed with delight on the swings, and a pileup of toddlers blocked the bottom of the slide. A group of teenagers sat beneath a cluster of cherry trees, staring up into the cotton candy blossoms, carrying on a passionate discussion about something.

  “What’s that?” Jenny said, pointing toward a baseball diamond.

  Kat narrowed her eyes against the brilliant sunshine. “A T-ball game.”

  “I love T-ball!” Jenny bounced on her toes, showing more enthusiasm than she had since Kat had come to town. “Can I play? Please? Please?”

  “Let’s go see.” Kat started across the park, watching Jenny as the child raced ahead. Halfway to the playing field, Kat heard the coach call out, “Good job, Jake! Run! Run to first base!”

  Kat knew that voice. She’d listened to it at the dance studio, smiled as it interrupted her organizing class records. She’d imagined it, in her dreams, ever since it had teased her in Rachel’s kitchen. She met Rye’s gaze as Jenny circled back to clutch at her hand.

  “Hey,” he said, nodding to include both of them. “Kat. Jenny.”

  “Hello, Mr. Harmon.”

  Kat smiled at her niece’s polite greeting, and she remembered to model her own good behavior. “Mr. Harmon, Jenny was wondering if she could play T-ball with you.”

  “Absolutely.” Rye gestured toward the outfield. “Go out there, between first and second base. You can play right field for us.” Jenny trotted out, beaming as if her most secret wish had been granted.

  “Thanks,” Kat said, less formal now that none of the kids was paying attention. Her heart was skittering in her chest. It had been, what? Two days since she'd seen Rye? Two days since he had completed fixing the plumbing at the studio, and torn out all the rotten ceiling tiles and the damaged flooring. Two days since he had driven off, with the pair of silent cousins he had brought along to help. Or to serve as chaperones.

  As if by agreement, Rye and Kat had made sure they did not spend a minute alone together. Not after that searing kiss they’d shared. Not after Kat had reminded herself that she had no time for an Eden Falls relationship.

  She had to clear her throat before she could ask, “What are you doing down here? I thought you went back to Richmond Wednesday night!”

  Of course he’d gone back to Richmond. He’d gone back to his rented office, to two beige rooms that had somehow shrunk while he'd been in Eden Falls. He'd gone back to his studio apartment, to a bachelor pad that should have been more than adequate for his needs.

  He hadn’t slept at all that night.

  Every time he rolled over, he imagined having another conversation with Kat. Every time he punched his pillow into a more comfortable lump, he remembered another detail of the studio renovation. Every time he threw off his blankets, he
thought about how he had let Kat down with the driving lesson, how she had panicked. And how she had warmed to him, afterward.

  No.

  It had taken him years to fight his way free, to sever enough family ties, enough social obligations, to give himself permission to live and work in Richmond. That whole mess with Marissa—the way he had pinned his hopes on her, on the life he thought they would have together… A white picket fence, two perfect kids and a dog. Until she decided that Hollywood was more glamorous, and she dropped him like a hot potato.

  He might have taken too long to come to his senses, but he had finally carved out a life for himself. He could not—would not—let a woman drag him back to Eden Falls. Not now. Not when everything was about to break big for him.

  Even a woman as intriguing as Kat. Especially a woman as intriguing as Kat. Part of her mystique was the fact that she didn’t belong in his hometown. After ten years of living on her own, she had become a New Yorker, through and through. She’d be leaving, as soon as her father had recovered.

  He’d be an idiot to forfeit his own life plans—again—for a woman who wasn’t going to stick around.

  But damn, Kat managed to distract him. Over and over again, even when she was a hundred miles away. And now? Standing beside her at the T-ball bleachers? It was all he could do not to cup a hand around her jean-clad hip. All he could do not to twist a strand of her mesmerizing hair around his finger and make a joke or two, draw out a smile on her lips. All he could do not to forget that a couple dozen kids were clamoring on the baseball diamond behind him, waiting for him to step up to the plate as their dedicated coach.

  He cleared his throat and answered Kat’s question, even though it seemed like a century had passed since she spoke. “I was up in Richmond. But something came up, and my brother Noah had to bail on T-ball practice.”

  “That seems to happen a lot,” Kat said, remembering that Rye had filled in for Noah on her first day back in Eden Falls. “Nothing serious, I hope?”

  “Her name is Britney.”

  Kat laughed. “You’re a good brother.”

  “I’m keeping a log. So far he owes me 327 hours of favors. I get gas money and double credit for Saturdays.”

  “Oh, what else would you be doing today?”

  “I’d find something to occupy my time,” he said, giving her an appraising glance. There was no mistaking the rumble beneath his words, and her memory flashed back to the feel of him holding her, to the scratch of his jaw as he kissed her. She felt her cheeks grow warm.

  “Mr. Harmon!” one of the kids called. “When do we start to play?”

  Rye sighed in fake exasperation, careful to keep the team from hearing him. “Duty calls. And you’re going to have to help out, if we let Jenny play.”

  She gestured to her boot. “I don’t think I’m really up to umpire work.”

  “I’ve got that covered. Your place is on the bench, behind home plate. Behind me. You get to be head cheerleader.”

  Kat caught a flicker of Rye’s eyebrows, a comic leer as if he were envisioning her in a short skirt, carrying pom-poms. The expression was wiped away before she could even be certain he was teasing her. Laughing, she headed over to her seat, grateful to give her foot a rest.

  Enjoying the fresh air outside the studio and—truth be told—the view of Rye’s denim-clad backside behind home plate, Kat put her elbows on the bench above her. Stretching out like a long black cat in the heat of the spring sun, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back. She filled her lungs with the aroma of fresh-cut grass, focusing on what Rye was saying to his young players.

  He helped one little girl choke up on the bat, instructing her on how to spread her legs for a more balanced stance. The child was not a natural athlete, but he talked her through two wildly missed swings. On the third, she toppled the ball from its plastic stand. “Run, Kaylee!” he shouted. “Run to first! You can make it!”

  His enthusiasm for his charges was obvious. Each child improved under his tutelage. Everyone eventually connected the bat to the ball, and some even got a shot past the infield. Soon enough, the teams switched sides, and Kat watched as Jenny came to the plate.

  “Okay, Jenny,” Rye said. “Oh, you’re left-handed? No, don’t be embarrassed, I’m left-handed, too. Here, move to the other side of the plate. Now, Jenny—”

  “I’m not Jenny.”

  Kat sat up, wondering what devilment her niece was working now.

  “Really?” Rye said. “I was certain that your Aunt Kat told me your name was Jenny.”

  “I hate that name.” Kat started to climb to her feet, ready to tell Jenny to adjust her tone or they’d be heading back home immediately. Before she could speak, though, the little girl whined pitiably, “There are two other Jennys in my class.”

  Rye nodded. “I guess that would be pretty annoying. I never had anyone else with my name in school. Should I call you Jennifer instead?”

  The little girl shook her head. “I’m only Jennifer when I’m in trouble.”

  Kat started to laugh—her niece was only telling the truth. Rye, though, screwed up his face into a pensive frown. “What should we do, then? How about another nickname?”

  “Like what?”

  “Jen?”

  “There’s a Jen at Sunday School.”

  “Then how about Niffer?”

  “Niffer?” She repeated the name like she’d never heard the last two syllables of her own name.

  “Do you know anyone else called Niffer?” The child shook her head. “Then what do you say? Should we try it?” Rye was granted a grudging nod. “Okay, then, Niffer. Step up to the plate. Nope, the other side, for lefties. Now focus on the ball. Bring the bat back. And swing!”

  The bat cracked against the ball, clearly the best shot of the afternoon. The tiny center fielder scrambled to catch the soaring ball, fighting the sunshine in his eyes. Rye shouted, “Go Niffer! Run around the bases!”

  Fulfilling her role as head cheerleader, Kat was shouting by the time her niece completed her home run. The kids exploded with excitement, too, both the batting and the fielding teams chanting, “Nif-fer! Nif-fer!”

  Obviously recognizing a climactic ending for the game when he saw one, Rye declared the practice over five minutes early, sending the kids off with their appreciative parents. Kat sat up straighter on the bench, watching Rye talk to the other adults. Several ribbed him about filling in for Noah, one telling him that he was taking his best man’s duties too far. So, things must be really serious between Noah and…what was her name? Britney.

  Rye was absolutely at home with every person he talked to. He shook hands with all the men; he accepted kisses on the cheek from most of the women. Kat supposed that he’d known these people all his life—he had gone to school with them, grown up with them.

  She’d gone to school with them, too. Well, four years behind. She should have been every bit as comfortable in Eden Falls as Rye was. After all, how many places were left on earth where someone could leave her front door unlocked to go play T-ball in the park? How many places would band together to fill Susan and Mike’s freezer with countless nourishing, home-cooked meals?

  Kat was beginning to understand what had kept her parents here all these years. She even caught herself smiling as Rye crossed the diamond, Jenny at his heels.

  “Aunt Kat!”

  “You looked great out there, Jenny.”

  “I’m Niffer, now!”

  “Niffer,” Kat agreed, sternly reminding herself to use the new nickname.

  “Can I go climb on the castle?”

  “May I?” Kat reminded. Grammar rules were just as important as the other rules that Niffer needed to maintain while they lived together.

  “May I go climb on the castle?”


  “Go ahead,” Kat said. “But we need to go back to Gram and Pop-pop’s house in ten minutes.”

  Niffer was halfway to the jungle gym before all of the words were out of Kat’s mouth. Rye settled on the bench beside her, grunting with mock exhaustion. “They’ll wear a man out.”

  “You’re great with them,” Kat said. “I never know how to talk to kids.”

  “Most people think about it too much. It’s better to just say what you’re thinking.”

  “Easy for you! I’ve been living with…Niffer for a week and a half, and that’s the first I heard that she didn’t like her name. It’s like you two share some special bond.”

  Special bond. Rye tensed at the words and the responsibility that they conjured up. Years ago, he’d worried about just such a “special bond,” worried that the then-unborn Niffer was his daughter. Rachel had set him straight in no uncertain terms. If any guy shared a “special bond” with Niffer, with Rachel, it was Josh Barton.

  And just as well. Rye could never have taken off for Richmond if he had a daughter here in Eden Falls. The games that Marissa had played, tying him to the town, would have been nothing compared to the bonds of fatherhood.

  “She’s a good kid,” he finally said.

  His lingering tension was telling him something, though. His lingering tension, and a couple of sleepless nights. Even if he had no hope for anything long-term with Kat, it was time to man up. Past time, actually. He flashed on the feel of her body pressed close to his in Rachel’s kitchen, and he cleared his throat before saying gruffly, “I should tell you. Your sister and I went out a couple of times. It was a long time ago. Five, six years. We were only together for a few weeks.”

  Kat’s face shuttered closed. “Rachel never mentioned anything. We, um, we haven’t been close for a very long time.”