In the kitchen, her father was digging ingredients out of the refrigerator. “I thought I’d make some pasta. Will that work for everyone?”
“Yep,” Traci said. “As long as you let me help.”
“Nonsense. You’re our guest.”
“I’m not real good at sitting around, Charlie.”
“Fine. Grab a knife and help me chop.” Her dad looked her way. “Kimber?”
“Yes?”
“You just got out of the hospital. Go sit down with Gunnar and rest.”
“Come on,” Gunnar said. “We can sit in front of your shrine, Kimber.”
Going back into the living room, they sat down on the couch. Curling up beside him, she winced.
“I saw that. Are you in a lot of pain?”
“Kind of. But it’s not time for a pain reliever. I guess Dad was right. I do need to sit for a while.”
Next thing she knew, he was shifting her so her feet were on his lap. He pulled off her boots. Traci had gone to her hotel room, packed her bags, and brought them to the hospital. “Gunnar, what are you doing?”
“Uh, taking off your boots and helping you get comfortable?”
“My mom will be coming downstairs any moment.”
“I think she’ll survive if she sees her girl getting a foot rub. Settle, ’kay?”
“Okay.”
His strong fingers seemed to know exactly where to knead. After a couple of minutes, she stopped complaining, and a couple of minutes after that, she was fighting to keep her eyes open.
“Don’t fight it, Kimber. If you want to take a nap, then do that.”
“I just want to rest them. It’s been a terrible couple of days.”
“I know. They’ll find out who attacked you. Then it will be better.”
“I don’t know about that,” she said, with her eyes still closed. “It was dark and I didn’t really see anyone.”
“Try to keep positive.”
Finding comfort in her closed-eye world, she said, “Gunnar, the attack wasn’t the only hard thing. The shoot was tough. Being around Brett, with his questions and constant chatter was exhausting. Being back and being expected to just pick right up a life that I hadn’t been a part of for months was hard too.”
“But you did it, right?”
“Yeah.” Gunnar was still rubbing her feet. The massage was making her the most relaxed she’d been in a week. “Tomorrow, we’ll be on our way back.”
“Yep. This isn’t going to come out right, but I’m glad I got to come here and see all your pictures.”
“They’re just pictures. I’m not even sure why my parents put them up.”
“Why would you say that, Kim?” her mother asked.
Her eyes popped back open. “Mom, I didn’t know you were here.”
Looking hurt, she said, “I just walked in. Just in time to hear you say that bit about the pictures. I can’t believe you wouldn’t think we would display them.”
“But you weren’t proud of me being a model.”
Her mother sat down. “Of course we are.”
“But you wanted me to go to college and get a job that used my brain.”
Her mother looked over at the pictures. “You’re right. You’re a smart girl and we thought all this modeling business was just a little hobby. But we were proven wrong, weren’t we?” She gestured to Kimber’s one-time pride and joy, the cover of Vogue. “We learned that things like that aren’t just about looks. It’s about a woman working really hard and becoming a success in a difficult business.” Her voice softened. “I’m sorry you thought we weren’t proud. We’re very, very proud of you. But of course, from the moment I held you for the first time, I knew you were special. We love you, Kimber.”
And just like that, Kimber started crying. “I love you too.”
Her mother got up and kissed her brow. “I’m going to get you a cup of tea. Gunnar, do you want anything?”
“No, ma’am. I’ll just sit here with Kimber.”
“I think that’s a good idea.”
After her mother joined her dad and Traci in the kitchen, Gunnar pulled Kimber into his arms. “You okay?”
“I think so.”
“I think I’ll hold you until you’re sure, yeah?”
Nodding into his chest, Kimber closed her eyes again and let cleansing tears trickle down her cheeks and stain his shirt.
Even though she realized she was going to be just fine, she decided to lean against Gunnar anyway.
It didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest.
CHAPTER 31
“Christmas isn’t a season. It’s a feeling.”
—Edna Ferber
Four days later
Kimber was pretty sure that Shannon had paid a small fortune for the use of the Bridgeport Community Theater. She’d also put in countless hours designing art for the stage, decorating the auditorium, and cleaning the space.
Dylan had shared that Shannon had also spent more time than he wanted to think about on the phone with all of the children’s parents discussing costumes, payment plans, and rehearsal schedules. All this didn’t include the many hours she’d spent on tryouts, classes, and run-throughs.
Gwen, who’d joined their little ragtag family a few months ago when their sister Traci had rescued her from an abusive boyfriend, had probably put in as much work as Shannon. Even though Gwen had recently given birth to the baby Traci had adopted, she didn’t seem to mind the stress of it all, though. Actually, Kimber thought the nineteen-year-old part-time college student rather relished the opportunity to boss the girls and their parents around.
Kimber had helped as much as she could, but it hadn’t been a lot. Shannon and her sisters were still babying her and cautioning her to not risk hurting her head.
Traci, Jennifer, their boyfriends and husbands, and even Shannon’s parents had put in time to make the “First Annual Dance With Me Nutcracker Gala” a success.
In short, they were all invested now. But at the same time, Kimber reckoned that one of them was going to stuff a sock into Shannon’s mouth if she didn’t settle down.
They were only halfway through this first dress rehearsal and Shannon was acting as if the little girls were about to appear on Broadway for the first time.
Worried that she’d inadvertently tease her sister about putting stage moms to shame, Kimber elected to stay near the dressing room. She had lots of experience with changing clothes quickly and it was as far from Shannon as she could get.
“Kimber, I need that mouse now!”
It was not far enough. Looking at little Natalie, who was holding the Mouse King head while patiently waiting for Kimber to attach her tail, groaned. “Miss Shannon is sure mean tonight, Miss Kimber.”
“She doesn’t mean to be. She’s just excited,” Kimber said as she turned Natalie back around. “You don’t have anything to worry about now, though. Your tail is on.”
Natalie giggled. “Now all I’ve got to do is put this big head on.”
Kimber stood up and helped her pop it over her head. “Perfect.”
“Mouse King! Now!”
“Eek!” Natalie said before scampering to the stage.
When the music started again, Kimber glanced at her notes. “Sugar Plums, you girls ready?”
Shannon’s five Sugar Plums, who were the most experienced dancers, stood up and gracefully walked to the door in their toe shoes. Shannon and Gwen had sewn the most beautiful long white tulle tutus for them and the girls looked like willowy angels.
“You girls look perfect. Miss Shannon is going to be pleased. Now, has everyone checked the ribbons on your shoes?” Shannon had warned her that sometimes the girls would forget to secure the ribbons and they could loosen and cause the dancers to fall or injure themselves.
“Yep, we’re all set,” Beth
any replied.
Kimber leaned close. “You look beautiful. I bet almost as pretty as you’re going to look tomorrow night at the dance.”
Bethany beamed. “Thanks.” After making sure that the other girls weren’t listening, she whispered. “Does Jeremy seem excited?”
“Gunnar told me they went shopping for new clothes. Since they’re guys, I’d say that’s a sure sign that Jeremy’s looking forward to it.”
Bethany giggled. “Good.”
“Sugar Plums?” Shannon called out.
“Break a leg,” Kimber said as they glided out in perfect unison.
As the music turned to the final round of the “Waltz of the Flowers,” Kimber leaned against one of the pillars off to the side and watched them perform their dance. They looked like true ballerinas and were moving in sync. Each of their steps looked flawless—well, as far as she could tell.
“You look a little wistful, sweetheart,” Gunnar said as he approached. “Are you wishing you were up there or remembering a dance recital of your own?”
“Neither,” she said with a smile. “I can’t help but feel proud of those girls though. They look lovely. And, guess what? Jeremy’s Bethany is dancing now.”
Peeking over at them, his expression softened. “They do look real pretty.” Leaning toward her, he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “Almost as pretty as you.”
She was dressed in black leggings, a light pink Dance With Me T-shirt, and scuffed black flats. Her hair was in a ponytail and she most likely had half her mascara sliding down her cheeks. “Thanks,” she said. He was helping to her to see that beauty had nothing to do with looks and everything to do with the happiness that shined out of a person.
“Thank you. When did you get here?”
“About an hour ago.”
“Really? I didn’t see you come in.”
“I wanted to talk to Dylan and Traci for a minute. Then me and Matt were upstairs trying to get some of the lights to work.”
Matt was Traci’s husband. He was an obstetrician. “Does he know much about electric work?”
“Nope, but it turns out his dad is pretty handy. He came too.”
“This really is a family affair.”
He grinned. “We’ve all been saying the same thing. It’s great.”
“I’m surprised Jeremy isn’t here.”
“He might want to see Bethany, but he’s a fifteen-year-old boy. He’s staying as far away as possible from all those girls.”
“I don’t blame him. Ah, do I want to know why you met with Traci and Dylan? Did something happen that I don’t know about?”
His open expression became more guarded. “Not at all. Just better to be on the safe side, right?”
She nodded but still felt compelled to add. “If something is going on I have the right to know about it . . .”
“Of course you do. But it’s just a precaution.”
It was hard for her not to argue but she’d promised herself to stop questioning everything. She nodded instead.
“Time for bows and curtsies. Where are the Russians?”
“I’ve got them!” Gwen called out from the other side of the stage. She and Traci had been in charge of the little ones, which was perfect since Officer Traci Lucky excelled at crowd control.
“Do you need to go out there and help?”
Kimber looked at the glob of children all either hopping around or waving to their parents, who were all taking about a million pictures with their smart phones. “No way. I’m on dressing room duty and that’s where I’m going to stay.”
“Kimber!”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Gunnar said just as she ran out to join the others.
As soon as Shannon flagged her over, Gunnar leaned his head back against the brick wall and pulled out his phone to check messages.
He hadn’t lied to Kimber, not exactly. But she had received another note. Traci had intercepted it when it arrived in today’s mail and opened it after taking it into the station. It had been just as threatening as the others. But it had also mentioned a Nutcracker Prince, which had given them enough alarm bells that they decided to attend both the dress rehearsals and the recital.
Traci had argued with Gunnar when he’d suggested they simply skirt Kimber away until the play was over. She’d stressed that Kimber needed to live her life, Shannon needed both of them, and furthermore . . . she didn’t want Kimber to know about the latest message.
Gunnar had argued, saying that Kimber wasn’t going to appreciate being left in the dark, but Traci had been too worried about Kimber’s state of mind to consider letting her know.
Gunnar supposed she had a point. Only now, two weeks after getting home, did Kimber look like herself. She hadn’t been sleeping and had been extremely jumpy.
Peeking out, he spied her standing with her two sisters laughing and figured that Traci had a point. Kimber was happy now. Really happy. That counted for a lot.
After checking in with Jeremy, he put his phone away, just as a surge of little girls and their parents moved his way. Shannon and Kimber were in the thick of it, Shannon ordering everyone to be careful with their costumes and Kimber giggling with a girl holding a large mouse head.
He decided to go wait for his girl in the main theater.
Minutes after he sat down, Traci took a seat next to him. “Gunnar, I’m going to need you to get Kimber out of here,” she said.
“Now?”
“Yeah. Dylan thinks our guy might be here.”
“Where?”
“Calm down. You’re not going to go all boyfriend on me. We’ll handle this.”
“All right, but Jeremy is about to get here. His girl is one of those Sugar Plum fairies.”
“That’s fine,” she said, her voice as calm as ice. “Just go make up something and get her out. Now.”
He didn’t wait another second. Heading back to the dressing room, he had to stop several times, since all the girls seemed intent on walking in packs and their mothers kept stopping to talk in the middle of the hallway.
Five minutes passed. Then, it was close to seven before he finally made it to the dressing room door. But just as he was about to open it, he saw Bethany, Jeremy’s girl.
“You better not open that, Mr. Law. Girls are changing inside.”
Of course they were. “Can you do me a favor and go back in and ask Kimber to come on out.”
“Okay, but she’s kind of busy . . .”
“Just go ask.” He attempted to smile and hoped he wasn’t failing miserably. “Jeremy texted me. He’s on his way.”
She brightened. “He texted me too.”
When he watched her close the dressing room door behind her, he tried to calm down. On the bright side, if she was in there with dozens of little girls, her attacker was not. That was a plus.
When Bethany popped out again, she grimaced. “I’m sorry, Mr. Law, but I think you’re going to have to wait a while. Miss Shannon has Kimber safety pinning everyone’s names on the costumes and organizing them.”
“It’s okay. See you tomorrow night.”
Giving him a little wave, she ran out. Another five minutes passed, then another ten as the rest of the girls exited the room.
At last, Shannon opened the door and propped it open. “Gunnar, you’re still here?”
“Yeah. You didn’t lose Kimber in the mix, did you?”
“No. She’s almost done.”
“Good. Listen, I’m going to take her out for ice cream, okay?”
“Sure. Y’all have fun. Oh! And I heard you and Matt are the ones who got the lights working. Thanks so much.”
“Anytime.”
When Gwen motioned her back to the stage, Shannon said, “See you later.”
“Yep. See you.”
The moment she disappeared
from the hallway, everything seemed a whole lot darker and more ominous. The skin on the back of his neck prickled. He had to get her out of there.
“Kimber, how’s it going?” he asked as he entered the dressing room. Immediately, he was besieged with the scent of candy, little girl perfume, and the smell of old socks and shoes. “Whew.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I know. It’s awful, isn’t it?”
“Ready?”
“Almost.” She hung up another costume then closed the cabinet. “I’ve been on the clock for hours. Let me run down the hall to the bathroom and then I’ll be all set.”
“All right, sure.” Still unable to ignore the sense that something wasn’t quite right, he said, “Hey, how about I walk down there with you.”
“To the bathroom? Uh, no. I think I’ve got this.” She handed him her purse. “I’ll be back in five minutes. Sit tight,” she added as she ran out the door.
Gunnar couldn’t help but grin. His Kimber was usually so controlled, he got a kick whenever she did something that was so “normal.” After picking up two empty water bottles that had rolled into a corner, he glanced at the time on his phone. It had only been two minutes.
But he couldn’t wait around another minute. Picking up her purse again as well as her black puffy coat, he turned off the light and walked into the hall. To his right, a faint stream of light shone out of the auditorium. He could hear faint sounds of conversation floating his way. To his left, he didn’t hear a thing.
Another three minutes had passed. He took a step left, then stopped himself. What was he going to do? Stand outside the bathroom door like a creepy stalker? That would freak her out.
Worse, if he mentioned how it was taking her longer than she said, Kimber would probably get annoyed. He wasn’t around a lot of women all the time, but he was around enough to know that five minutes in the bathroom usually meant ten. She was probably fixing her lipstick or something—she was often doing that.
Except, he had her purse. And another minute had gone by.
He took another step down the hall. Told himself that he was overreacting. Then walked closer. He couldn’t deny it, he was starting to get worried.
Save the Last Dance Page 20