by K. A. Linde
I ordered a latte and then took a seat by the window to look at the clouds rolling in on the horizon. Katherine appeared a minute later, looking gorgeous with her long, flowing brown hair and somehow so out of place. She belonged on runways and in boutiques on Fifth Avenue and strolling through Central Park. She hardly looked like the type to come to a quaint college coffee shop in Lubbock. But here she was, in pencil skinny jeans, a tucked-in white button-up, and a red peacoat that matched her lush red lips.
I waved at her, and she came to sit down after she had some kind of skinny iced mocha concoction in her hand.
“Iced?” I asked with a laugh. “You realize that the weather is only getting colder as the day goes on.”
She shrugged. “When I was pregnant with Helene, all I wanted was iced coffee, but I gave it up entirely. I still can’t get enough of it.”
“That makes more sense.” I blew on my coffee, which was still too hot to drink. “I’m so glad you messaged. I was just dealing with the worst parents. Their daughter walked out of my class, and now, they think they’re going to come after me.”
Katherine practically cackled. “Yeah, good luck with that. Don’t they know who you are?”
“They’re small town, small-minded, and they don’t seem to care.”
“Well, thank God you and I will be back in New York City in a week then.” Katherine held her drink out to cheers, and I knocked mine against hers with a wince. But she was too perceptive and latched on to the twitch. “What is it? Aren’t you ready to go back? Don’t you miss the city streets and the crisp smell and shopping and food and excitement on every block?”
She was projecting. That was for sure. She clearly missed New York, which made sense since she’d grown up there. But I’d grown up here with wide-open spaces and cotton fields and family. It wasn’t as easy to go back to that life even if it was my life.
“I am. I do miss the city.”
“But…” Katherine offered.
I shrugged, not sure how to even begin to explain.
“Let me guess…a boy?”
“Am I that transparent?” I asked with a laugh.
Katherine grinned wickedly. “I can read people.” She leaned forward. “Now, tell me about this boy.”
“Isaac. You met him at the charity event a couple weeks ago.”
“Oh, right,” Katherine said, tapping her lip. “He was good-looking, quiet type, body of secrets.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Well, yes. You can read people, can’t you?”
“That’s my superpower.”
“We dated for three years in high school and broke up when I left for New York. Now, I’m back and he has a daughter and we…kind of hooked up last night.”
Katherine arched an eyebrow. “That is a lot. But…what do you think is going to happen in a week? He has a daughter? That’s serious, Peyton.”
“I know,” I whispered.
“We’re going back in a week.”
“I know.”
“So…it’s just a fling?”
My wince must have told her otherwise.
Katherine reached out and touched my hand. “Your life is in New York. You’re at the top of your game. You’re a principal dancer.” Her voice held more awe than I’d heard from her before. “Are you really considering giving all that up for some high school ex?”
I didn’t know. Was I? Was I even considering that? I’d had to make the choice once before. I didn’t want to have to make it again. But I knew the day was coming up quickly, where I would have to choose…and I had no idea what I would do.
18
Isaac
My mom kissed me on the cheek when I came home late and only managed to cock an eyebrow but not ask any questions. “I’m glad you had a good night.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
She grinned at me again and then hopped in her car.
“Aly Cat, are you ready to go to school?”
“I don’t want to go, Daddy,” she said, coming out of her bedroom with her arms crossed. She was dressed in jeans and a sweater with no shoes or jacket or gloves or anything.
I sighed. “I know you don’t want to go, but it’s only a half-day. And when I pick you up, I’ll have a surprise waiting.”
Her eyes lit up. “What is it?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
“But, Daddy, how will I know what to wait for?”
I laughed. “You’re too smart. How about this? If we get your shoes on and finish getting you ready to get to school, then I will tell you.”
“Okay!” she said and ran back to her room in a hurry.
I followed her, helping her pull on her tennis shoes and then a hat and gloves. We found her jacket in the hall closet and put that on next. Then, we grabbed her backpack and the lunch that my mom had made for her the night before. Thank God for that.
“I’m ready! Tell me now!”
“Once we’re in the car.”
She huffed exaggeratedly and flopped down on the ground. Aly was a wonderful kid, but she was still a kid. And she threw a tantrum like a pro. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she started sobbing in the middle of the floor. I checked my watch. We were going to be late if we didn’t get moving.
“One,” I said quietly but firmly.
“Daddy, no!” she cried.
“Two.”
“Don’t do it,” she said, coming up to her feet. She wiped her tears and glared at me. “Don’t say it.”
I waited, wondering if I’d have to get to three. Waiting out her tantrums was such a nightmare. I’d never been prepared for the worst parts of parenting, but it wasn’t parenting if you didn’t get the good along with the bad. I should just be thankful that, more often than not, Aly was a dream kid.
“Are you better now?” I asked her.
She crossed her arms. “You’ll tell me in the car?”
I forced down the smile threatening to take over. “Once you’re in your seat.”
She grumbled and then followed me outside.
I buckled her into her car seat in the back, and then once I was in the front—thankfully with a few minutes to spare—I told her, “Peyton is going to come over to help us bake cookies later.”
Aly’s eyes widened to saucers. “Miss Peyton is coming here? The Sugar Plum Fairy can bake?”
I laughed as I drove us to her school, only a few blocks away. “Yes. Would you like that?”
“I’d love that. I love Miss Peyton. She’s who I want to be when I grow up.”
A lump formed in my throat, and I didn’t know what else to say. I let Aly ramble the remaining few blocks. Then, I parked out front of the school and unbuckled Aly. She gave me a big hug and kiss, her tantrum forgotten, before darting toward the entrance.
“Love you, Daddy!” she cried over her shoulder.
“Love you, Aly Cat,” I yelled back, knowing, one day, she’d find that embarrassing so I’d hold on to it as long as I could.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I pulled away from the school. She’d had bigger meltdowns. In the early days, I’d had no idea how to even deal with them, but giving in usually only made it worse. Putting my foot down was much more difficult though. We’d both learned and grown through it.
The Wright Construction parking lot was empty on Friday morning, save for Morgan’s black Mercedes—she never took time off—and Jordan’s sleek silver Tesla Model S. He’d let me drive it once, and it was the most beautiful, unnerving ride I’d ever taken. It sat low to the ground, made practically no sound, , and jolted forward like a bucking bronco when I barely touched the accelerator. I’d known then and there that it wasn’t for me, but it was still gorgeous.
I headed inside and took the elevator up to my office. It was a large corner space on one of the top floors. I dropped my keys, wallet, and cell phone onto the desk and then powered on the computer. With the added soccer complex project on my desk, I’d never felt more behind. It would have been great to take this day off with t
he rest of the staff, but if Aly had a half-day, then I needed to use it to play catch-up.
I’d completely lost track of time when I heard a knock on my open office door.
“Hey, man. Didn’t anyone tell you that you had today off?” Jordan asked with a grin as he lounged against the doorframe.
“Someone might have mentioned it.”
“Are you as much of a workaholic as I am?”
I laughed. “No. I don’t think anyone is more of a workaholic than you. I just had to finish up all this paperwork for the soccer complex that I’d neglected to focus on. I didn’t want it looming over my head all Christmas break.”
Jordan nodded. “Seems reasonable.” He looked down at the Rolex on his wrist. “It’s almost noon. Do you want to grab some lunch before diving back into this?”
“Shit, is it really noon?” I checked the clock on my computer and cursed again. “Where did the day go?”
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” Jordan said in his characteristic sarcastic tone.
“I’d be into lunch, but I have to pick up Aly soon. She only has a half-day for her last day of school,” I told him as I set my office back to rights.
I’d have to try to stay late sometime next week to finish all of this. My mom was going to love that.
“Rain check then,” he said. “I’ll see if I can drag Morgan away.”
I glanced up at him with an incredulous expression. “Good luck with that.”
He smirked and then stepped into the office, dropping into the seat in front of my desk. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Seems unlikely. I don’t know how Patrick deals with it.”
“I think he likes it.”
Jordan shrugged. “To each their own.” His phone beeped, and he checked the message, jotting out a response before stuffing it back in his suit coat. “Went on one date with this girl, and now, she texts me five hundred times a day.”
“Oh, how hard it is to be you,” I said with a laugh.
“True story. Speaking of relationships,” he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, “how are things with the girl you brought to the party last night? You two seemed really into each other.” Heat crept up my neck, and I tried to hold back my smile, but I must not have succeeded because Jordan laughed and said, “That good, huh? Where did you two meet?”
“Well, we dated in high school.”
Jordan raised his eyebrows. “And you’re back together? Damn.”
“Peyton is different. She’s a professional ballerina in New York. She left right before our senior year.”
“Huh. And so she…lives in New York?”
“Yeah. She’s here for The Nutcracker for the Lubbock Ballet Company.”
“And…she’s going back to New York?”
I sighed. “She is. After Christmas, she has to be back in the city. But we’re just trying to make the most of it while she’s here. She’s actually coming over to hang out with me and Aly this afternoon.”
This time, Jordan looked actually alarmed. “You’re letting her meet your daughter?”
“They’ve already met,” I said, hating the defensive tone in my voice. “Aly is in The Nutcracker, too.”
“Right, but…okay, when I was young, my parents split up for two years. We lived with my mom and saw my dad on the weekends. He started dating a few other women, and he introduced us to them all right away. Then my parents got back together.” Jordan looked away as if the story still brought painful memories. “I mean, I was glad that they worked it out, but he never seemed to care how his dating life affected us.”
My mind whirred to life…and fear replaced what I’d thought was going to be a fun and light afternoon. “That must have been hard.”
“Yeah. I remember it more than Julian, but it sounds like this thing with Peyton is serious. And I like you, man. You and your little girl. I’d think about how she would take this if you started introducing a new woman into her life.”
“Right,” I said, speechless.
Jordan groaned and got to his feet. “Hey, I didn’t mean to drop all that on you. You know what’s best for your daughter and your relationship.”
“No, I’m glad that you told me. I want things to be serious with Peyton but not at Aly’s expense.”
“Maybe it’ll all work out,” Jordan said. “What do I know? I’m terrible at relationships.” He held his phone up as proof.
I laughed with him, and then we exited the building together. He clapped me on the back before heading for his Tesla, and I wandered to my truck. Jordan might have been nonchalant about it afterward, but…his words stuck with me.
Would bringing Peyton around Aly hurt her? Was I going to damage my child by introducing her to someone I was dating when she might just leave in a week?
Aly was the most important person in my life. I would never jeopardize her. She’d already lost her mother. I didn’t want her to suffer more because of my choices.
19
Peyton
After coffee with Katherine, I went back to the studio and spent the rest of the morning digging through all of Kathy’s paperwork. It felt like an endless job. I wasn’t used to doing paperwork. My feet and body itched to get into the studio and dance the rest of this away. But I had the show tonight, and I was supposed to meet Isaac and Aly to make cookies.
Of course, I wasn’t entirely sure it was a good idea anymore. I couldn’t get Katherine’s words out of my head. I was returning to New York in a week. My life was there. I was at the top of my game. Could I give that up? Would Isaac even want me to?
I shook my head to clear my mind, but it did nothing. All my thoughts just swirled and swirled and swirled. There was only confusion and hopes and wants and then reality. A constant push and pull. One I was very familiar with from a decade ago. I checked the time. Thirty minutes before I needed to leave, and I made a snap decision. I didn’t want to sit and obsess for another thirty minutes.
So, I left the rest of the paperwork and grabbed pointe shoes and a pair of shorts out of my bag. Once I changed, I stepped into the dimly lit studio. No one else was even here right now. I had it all to myself.
I knew my body well enough to start with a quick warm-up to get my muscles moving. A series of pliés, tendus, and relevés before stepping away from the barre and into the middle of the floor. With no music, I just let myself glide across the floor. Until I realized I was in the middle of a seventeen-minute solo that I’d performed two years ago before a packed audience at Lincoln Center. Aside from Swan Lake, it was the hardest performance of my life. The sheer energy and technicality had pushed me to my limits.
Truthfully, I hadn’t even been sure that I’d be able to get it right by the time we were performing. Seventeen minutes was an unbelievably long time to be alone onstage without a break. I had to be engaging. I had to be breathtaking. And I had to be perfect. Story of my life.
At the end of the final turn sequence, I landed in a soft fourth position, my chest heaving. I was definitely out of shape for that number, but I’d finished it.
And then I heard soft applause from the studio entrance.
I jumped, whirling around to find Bebe standing in the doorway. “Bebe, you scared me.”
Her smile was electric as she held her brown toe shoes. “Sorry. I had a half-day, and I wanted to work on that turn section.” She took a step forward, wringing her shoes. “How did you do that?”
“How long were you standing there?”
“Long enough,” she said with awe in her voice. “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
I laughed softly and wiped sweat from my brow. “Believe me, I’ve performed it much better. I’m afraid I’m a bit out of shape for it.”
“No, you looked so…happy. As if you’d found your place in the universe.”
That was exactly how I always felt while dancing. “That’s what you look like, too, you know?”
Bebe flushed and looked away. “I don’t know. I’m never
going to be as good as you.”
“Not with that attitude. The differences between the best dancer in the world and you are two things: experience and confidence. Experience, you’re going to have to earn just like anyone else. Confidence…that’s all you, Bebe.”
She stood a little straighter. Her head tilted upward. “Thank you, Peyton. I’m glad that you’re here in the studio. I’ve never seen anyone stand up to Katelyn the way you did.”
I sighed. Ah, the crux of the problem. I headed over to where she stood and put my hand on her shoulder. “Katelyn only has as much control over you as you let her.”
“She thinks I can’t handle this just because I’m new.”
“Do you think that?” I asked.
“Sometimes,” she whispered. “But I won’t give up.”
“Good. Never give up, or she wins.”
Bebe nodded. “Thanks, Peyton. I guess I’ll get to work on that turn sequence.”
“That’s a good idea. And then maybe, next week, we can talk about summer intensives.” I arched an eyebrow.
“Oh,” she whispered. “You think so?”
“You’re good enough. You just have to believe it.”
She nodded. “All right. I trust you.”
I swallowed back the lump in my throat as I left her to practice for our final weekend. I changed back into my jeans and headed out to my borrowed car. The wind had really picked up. It was beginning to look dangerous out here. I wondered if we were going to have to cancel the show tonight if it snowed.
I plopped down into the car and slammed the door shut against the whistling wind. I put the heat on full blast and checked my phone to make sure Isaac was home.
Peyton, change of plans. I don’t think it’s a good idea to bake cookies. We’ll see you at the show tonight.
My mouth fell open. What the hell? What had changed?