Save the Last Dance

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Save the Last Dance Page 6

by Save the Last Dance (epub)


  Karyn raised her eyebrows. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

  “It is.” After opening up her textbook, she leaned back in her chair. When Mr. Hernandez started talking, she even tried to care about what he was teaching.

  But as the minutes passed, she knew conjugating verbs in Spanish was a lost cause. Her mind drifted back to Jeremy’s secret.

  Bethany made a mental note to try to figure out what it meant if someone was a foster kid. Did they even get to stay in the same house for very long?

  Or did they even get to do things like date and go to dances? She might be preparing for disappointment no matter what.

  She was still thinking about him when she got out of class and headed to her locker. And after lunch, when she was walking toward choir, there he was. Jeremy was standing with about five other people near the front door.

  Even though she knew it was stupid, she was pretty sure her heart started to race.

  When he saw her, he smiled.

  Pulling herself together, she strode forward. “Hi, Jeremy. What are you doing?”

  “Waiting for Mr. Glover. He drives us to the elementary school today. I help out in their library a couple of times a month.”

  “I almost signed up to do that. Do you like it?”

  “Yeah. It’s easy. All the librarian usually makes me do is shelve books. Plus, the kids are kind of cute.”

  “I bet they are.”

  Adjusting his backpack on his shoulders, he spoke again. “It’s too bad you didn’t end up doing your hours there. We could have gone together.”

  “I wish.” When his eyebrows rose, she hastened to explain. “I mean that would have been fun, but I didn’t have room in my schedule this semester. I’m on my way to choir now.”

  He grimaced. “I’d rather shelve books than do that. I can’t sing a note.”

  “I can sing, but my voice isn’t anything special. I’d rather dance.”

  “Dance?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been taking ballet forever.”

  “That’s cool. Can you get on your toes and everything?”

  She giggled. “You mean en pointe? Yes.”

  “I heard that’s hard. You must be really good.”

  “I’m okay.” Though it was rude to brag, Bethany knew she was actually a pretty good ballerina. Not fantastic, but better than a lot of other girls in the class. “I’m in a dance company. We’re performing The Nutcracker for Christmas.”

  “That’s cool.” He looked impressed, which made her feel kind of good.

  “Jeremy, now!” Mr. Glover called out.

  “Sorry, Mr. Glover!” He turned back to her. “Hey, I’ve got to go.”

  She giggled again. “I know. I do too.” But still, she didn’t move.

  And neither did he.

  He smiled at her. “So, well . . . uh, have fun. I’ll call . . . Shoot, I never got your number. What is it?”

  He was asking for her number!

  “Jeremy!”

  “One sec!” Turning back to her, he winked. “So . . . can I have your number?”

  He was a good three feet away now. No way was she going to call it out to him like that. “Maybe I’ll give it to you tomorrow.”

  He grinned at her before running to catch the car.

  She smiled all the way to choir. There was something good happening between the two of them, she was sure of it. There was something so good that she didn’t even care that he was new to the school and not a part of her group of friends. Or that he was a little shy and kind of awkward.

  Not even that he was a foster kid and had a social worker. No, all she really cared about was that he seemed to feel the same way about her that she felt about him.

  CHAPTER 9

  the land of snow: Where the Nutcracker takes Clara after defeating the Mouse King in battle. There, they dance among a flurry

  of snowflakes.

  Gunnar was close to losing his mind right there in the middle of his living room. After taking a deep fortifying breath, he said, “Mama, what did you just say you were fixing to do?”

  “I said that I’m going on a swing cruise right after Christmas.”

  Hearing that a second time over the phone line didn’t make the statement easier to handle. Had the moment he’d been dreading just arrived? Was he going to have to start parenting his parent? Keeping his voice firm, he said, “I don’t think you should do that.”

  “I don’t know why not. Everyone says it’s a lot of fun.”

  He was now beet red. “Have you told anyone else about this? Thinking of his eldest brother, he added, “Have you told Martin?” Because Martin was going to have a fit.

  “No, dear. You’re the first.”

  Lord, have mercy. He was one of four kids and the only one who lived outside of West Virginia. But when it came to their mother divulging secrets, he always got the weird stuff. Always.

  Weighing his words—and her sweet nature—carefully, he said, “Mama, I promise, there’s easier ways to meet men than to go um, swinging on a boat. Plus, I don’t think you even know what you’re talking about.” His mother might go around thinking she was a fifty-nine-year-old woman of the world, but he knew better. She was small town and sheltered.

  “I’m looking at the brochure, Gunnar. It’s fairly easy to understand. Even for a simple, ole country gal like me,” she said, sarcasm thick in her voice.

  He was still trying to figure out what a “swing cruise” brochure could possibly say. Surely nothing good. Honestly, just thinking about his mother adrift on such a boat gave him the willies.

  He needed some support, stat.

  “Mama, what about Darcy? Have you spoken to her about your plans?” Darcy was number two in the Law children lineup, and she’d always been the enforcer in the family.

  “I haven’t told her yet either, Son. Like I said, I just paid the deposit.”

  He hadn’t caught that. But if she’d already paid money, there was a chance she wasn’t going to get it back. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t tell Darcy about this adventure of yours.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s not proper.” And because Darcy would have a hissy fit if she found out—and that was putting things mildly.

  “It’s not a sin, Son.”

  “Heck yeah, it is.”

  “Don’t say ‘heck.’ ”

  “Mom, really?”

  “No, don’t try to excuse yourself. You’ve got an impressionable boy at home now. Plus, everyone knows what you’re thinking when you say words like that.”

  Correcting his not-swearing had finally pushed him too far. “Everyone’s going to know what you’re thinking if you go on some freaking swinger’s cruise!”

  Jeremy’s door opened and he poked his head out. When their eyes met, the boy’s bright blue eyes appeared shell-shocked.

  And who could blame him?

  Gunnar slapped a hand over his face. Honestly, he just couldn’t win right now.

  On the other end of the line, he heard his mother gasp. Then take a deep breath . . . then burst out laughing.

  He held the phone away from his ear, because she never could not laugh like a hyena. He waited for a couple of seconds . . . but it still sounded like she couldn’t catch her breath. After another few, he started to get irritated. “Mama—”

  “Oh, good night. It’s not a swinger’s cruise, Gunnar. It’s a ballroom dancing cruise.”

  “You said ‘swing.’ ”

  “You know, like swing dancing.”

  “Swing dancing?”

  “There’s a difference, Son,” his mother continued, her voice sounding as stern as all get out. “A fairly big difference. One is dancing the jive and the other is . . . not. You need to remember that.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His face was probably purpl
e, he was so embarrassed.

  “Are we clear now? I want to go on a cruise in the Caribbean Sea, walk around at shops and such during the day, and practice ballroom dance lessons at night.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I understand.”

  She was sounding snippy now. “And just for the record, the cha-cha is more my style.”

  Why had he even picked up when she called? “Gotcha. I . . . I obviously misunderstood.”

  “I would say so.” She giggled. “I swear, just when I think I’ve heard everything . . . I can’t wait to tell Martin, Darcy, and Andrew about this!”

  “Please don’t.”

  “Honey, I don’t know how I can’t. It’s . . . it’s priceless.”

  He gritted his teeth. It was mortifying, is what it was.

  “Now, honey the actual reason I called is because I heard that there’s a really good ballroom studio in Bridgeport, and none other than our very own Shannon Murphy has set up shop there.”

  Shannon was from their little town of Spartan back in West Virginia, and he knew where her shop was because a couple of his buddies had gone to her recent wedding to Dylan Lange, a cop in town. Growing up, Shannon had lit their little town on fire with her competitions and trophies. They’d all been sure they were going to see her on Dancing with the Stars one day. They might have too, if she hadn’t gotten hurt.

  “I know about her place.”

  “You do? It’s called Dance With Me. Have you been there?”

  “To take lessons? No. No, I have not.”

  “Well, I’m going to. That’s why I called, as a matter of fact. I’m going to be taking lessons from none other than Shannon herself next week. Isn’t that something?”

  He was finally connecting the dots. Ballroom dance lessons plus Shannon Murphy equaled his mother was coming into town within the next seven days.

  His mother was coming next week.

  “Wait, what?”

  “You heard me, Son. I’m driving in on Sunday after church. I should arrive around five or six.”

  Her voice was bright, belying the information she was throwing out his way. And, just for the record, Sunday was in five days. Not seven.

  “Mother, you’re coming into town in five days and planning on staying here?”

  “Well, yes.” Her voice turned hurt. “Why are you talking like this isn’t okay?”

  “Because you didn’t ask me if that was okay.”

  “I didn’t think I had to ask permission to visit you, Gunnar.”

  “Things are different than how they used to be. Mama, Jeremy is here now.”

  “Of course I know about Jeremy. We’ve FaceTimed, remember? I’m planning on spending lots of time with him. I thought I could teach him to play hearts.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to point out that he was a grown man who worked two jobs and was trying to develop a relationship with a teenage boy who’d already been through a lot. That Jeremy needed stability, not surprise houseguests. In addition, the boy was fifteen, not half that, which meant that there was a real good chance that Jeremy was not going to want to sit around playing card games with an older woman he didn’t know.

  But then reality hit him, along with the point that his mother might be a handful, but she was all his and she’d also been through a lot.

  No matter what, he loved her and she’d loved him. That was what counted.

  Softening his tone, he said, “I’m looking forward to seeing you soon, Mama.”

  “I’m looking forward to it too, dear. Almost as much as I am looking forward to dancing with you.”

  “Say again?”

  “I can’t dance the cha-cha without a partner, silly. We’re going to have such a great time.”

  Boy, he wished she’d called Martin first. “Yes, ma’am.”

  After speaking for a few more minutes, he hung up and looked around the living room. It was a decent size, but fairly sparse. So was the rest of his house. It was also filled with dust. He cleaned the bathrooms on occasion but hadn’t paid for a cleaning service to stop by in months. In addition, the house that had already been filled with his crap now had another layer of teenage-boy crap on top.

  He sighed. His mother was going to start cleaning the minute she put her suitcase down on the floor.

  Jeremy poked his head out again. When he saw that Gunnar was off the phone, he started forward. “Who were you talking to?”

  “My mother.”

  “Ah. Mrs. Law was nice when FaceTimed.”

  Deciding to put it out on the line, he added, “She was on good behavior when she did that. By the way, her first name is Willa. You can call her that if you don’t want to call her Grandma.”

  “I’ll call her Willa.”

  “Good call.”

  Jeremy’s eyebrows lifted as he walked closer. “How come you look so worried? Is Willa really mean?”

  “Mean? Gosh, no.” Hating that he messed everything up, he said. “I promise, she’s really nice.”

  “But?”

  He sighed. “But I think we need to have a talk. Come sit down here with me for a spell.”

  Jeremy sat down on the edge of the couch, but everything in his body language proclaimed that he was not doing that easily.

  Gunnar rested his arms on his knees. “I’ve got some news. My mother is coming for a visit. She gets here on Sunday evening.”

  “What’s wrong with that? Does she not want me here?”

  “No, no, no.” When Jeremy looked stricken, Gunnar firmly told himself to pull it together. He was messing this all up. “Sorry. What I’m trying to say is that my mom wants you here. Very much so.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. I promise, she’s excited about it.” Thinking of her game plans, he muttered, “Maybe too excited.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means my mother, who is loud, chatty, and all-girl is going to be staying with us for a week. We’re going to have to make some adjustments. And clean.”

  “Okay . . .”

  “She’s also going to be on you like a tick in June.”

  Jeremy’s lips twitched. “Which means?”

  “Get ready to have her not only make you a huge breakfast every morning, but sit with you while you eat it.” He held out another finger. “She’s also going to try to pick you up from school in the afternoons, and ask you questions all the time.” Realizing that those things didn’t really come close to describing his mother, Gunnar added, “Actually, my mom’s more like a category four hurricane that comes to visit.”

  His eyes widened. “She sounds like a lot.”

  “Oh, she is.” Wiping a hand over his face, “She’s great, but she’s a lot. And I know I sound mean, but all of my siblings think the same thing. My youngest brother Andrew has been known to go on two hour runs just to catch a break.”

  “Wow.”

  Still thinking hard, he added, “Luckily, she’ll be in the guest room in the basement, so you’ll have some space. She’s been known to suck all the oxygen out of a room.”

  Jeremy’s lips curved up. “She sounds funny.”

  “She is. But she can cook like a dream and she likes to shop. Expect her to making about a dozen Walmart and Target runs. And . . . she wants to teach you how to play hearts. It’s a card game.”

  “She wants to play cards with me?”

  Pleased that the boy didn’t look horrified but kind of happy, Gunnar nodded. “Honestly, you got the good end of the deal. She wants to dance with me.”

  “Huh?”

  “Ballroom dancing.”

  Jeremy grinned, then started laughing. “No way.”

  “I wouldn’t lie about that. She’s planning to dance the cha-cha on some swing-dancing cruise ship.”

  “What’s the cha-cha?”

 
“I have no idea but she’s coming here so I can take lessons on how to do it with her.”

  “You’re gonna take cha-cha lessons?”

  “Yep.” His lips twitched. It wasn’t going to be pretty, he knew that. He weighed 240 pounds. Guys like him didn’t move lightly on their feet.

  As if he was imagining it, the boy laughed harder. Gunnar couldn’t blame him. They were going to have quite the time of it, and that was a fact.

  But when he found himself chuckling as well, Gunnar realized that it was going to be okay. He had this boy on his side now.

  CHAPTER 10

  “Joy to the World, the Lord is come.

  Let earth receive her King.”

  Sometimes Kimber thought that the noise and commotion surrounding her old apartment in the center of Manhattan had nothing on her room on the top floor of Dance With Me.

  Currently, the building felt filled to the brim and it was as noisy as all get out. She’d woken to Jennifer blaring old school eighties music while she made five dozen cupcakes for one of her clients. Kimber swore if she never heard another Bon Jovi song, it wouldn’t be long enough.

  Just as Jennifer finished, Shannon had opened the doors for her weekly ballroom class for senior citizens. They were a noisy bunch—especially when Gwen was there.

  Gwen, who had recently moved in permanently, was also in the studio. Even though she was only nineteen, she had a way with the seniors that was magical. They all loved her and the good feelings seemed to be mutual. Whenever Gwen entered the room, it reminded Kimber of Norm from that old television show Cheers. Choruses of “Hi, Gwen!” rang out like bells.

  Gwen was also the birth mother of little baby Bridge, Kimber’s sister Traci’s son.

  About once a week, Gwen also babysat for Traci so Traci could take a long shift at the police department. It all coincided on the same night this week, so Kimber was on baby duty. She and Jennifer were sitting on the floor in the living room with baby Bridge. They’d turned the fire on, Jennifer had made snowball cookies, and Christmas music was floating upstairs from the seniors’ class.

  All in all, it was exactly the opposite type of evening than those she used to have in New York City. Back then, she and her model roommates were either always getting ready to go out or work the next day. It had been stressful, expensive, and loud.

 

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