It hadn’t occurred to me that with July underway, I’d have to prepare for Mel’s tradition of extreme birthday-ing. She usually expected to start celebrating the week before and continue through the week after. I often teased that she didn’t have a birth day, she had a birth season. In the city, plenty of people would come and go during that period, but out here, I’d be expected to take on the best friend end of the daily honors. I suspected June would make up for the lack of extra faces with lots of activities all over the island. I stifled a sigh.
“Sure. Sounds fun.” We finalized the plans, and Mel glanced at the second garage one last time before she left. I decided to have the unusable lock removed and purchase a new one. I was looking for a local locksmith online when my phone rang. It was Beck.
“Hi, Beck,” I said cheerily. “Is everything okay?”
“Uh, yeah, everything’s fine. I just…uh…I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you letting me use that space, and I wondered if…uh.” She cleared her throat and took a breath. “The thing is, the college is having a summer dance next weekend, and I bought the guys tickets as a thank you, and I thought, well, maybe you’d like to go too?”
I felt my face break into a smile. It was totally in character for Beck to have forgiven me so quickly. “Are you asking me out, Ms. Reynolds?” I drawled teasingly.
“No, I meant…” There was a pause. “Would it be okay if I did?” she asked quietly.
I remembered my commitment to Mel and her upcoming events. “Oh Beck, I can’t. I—”
“It’s fine,” Beck said abruptly. “I don’t know why I asked when I would have been surprised by any other answer. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She ended the call before I realized what had happened. In the next five seconds, I replayed how I’d answered the question about the dance, understanding she would have heard me turning down any and all opportunities with her, as if I was withdrawing when she attempted to do something nice, as I’d done every other time. Shit. I tried to call her back, but the phone went to voice mail before announcing the mailbox was full. Shit shit shit. I needed to get ready for dinner but vowed to clear the air with her tomorrow.
But at dinner, June whispered she needed me to help finalize some of Mel’s celebration activities. “Let’s go to breakfast at that diner in town tomorrow, and we can talk.”
“The W’s too?”
“Of course. We need all the fabulous we can get.”
Despite my less than sunny mood, I had to laugh at that. “I’m glad you came along this summer, June. You’re a great addition to this group.”
“Hey!” Mel’s attention had shifted to us, and she leaned across June’s other side. “Stop hitting on my girl. Bring your own next time.”
I doubted if she meant it—meant either comment, really—but I raised my hands in surrender. June turned from Mel’s line of sight and winked at me. “Eight tomorrow,” she mouthed, and I nodded.
I was shuffling into the kitchen to make coffee the next morning when I heard a sound outside the door. I couldn’t imagine June was this early. I peeked out the window to check and saw Beck sitting on the step, leaning on her elbows with her head back and eyes closed, soaking in the soft, early morning sun like a budding flower. Sugar was curled on her lap, purring contentedly. Warmed by the vision, I smiled and opened the door. They both startled, and Beck got to her feet quickly as Sugar struggled in her arms.
“Sorry,” Beck said quickly. “I hope I didn’t wake you. I was waiting to cook breakfast like we agreed.” I noticed the grocery bags by the door.
“Listen, you don’t have to—”
Sugar meowed, and Beck gestured with her head. “Let me take her down to the garage.”
“Please, come on in when you’re done,” I said. “Get yourself some coffee but don’t start on breakfast yet. I need to jump in the shower before we talk.”
She was sitting on the deck when I came out, the groceries already put away. The pot of coffee was untouched. I made her a mug and took it out. Her glance lingered for an extra second before she looked away. “No, thank you.”
I was definitely getting the cold shoulder. I tried to tease her into it. “Beck, I’m not going to drink this crazy mix. You might as well.”
Standing, she shook her head. “So did you not want breakfast?”
“No, I’m going to the diner with June and the guys. We have to plan some things.”
“Fine. Lunch? Dinner?”
“I’d like to talk to you about the schedule.” A horn honked downstairs. Damn it. “Can you stay for a couple of hours until I’m home?”
“No. I have to go to work with Mama as soon as I can. I’ll leave your supper in the fridge with instructions.”
“Could you come and eat it with me?”
She sighed. “I don’t think so, Emily.” The horn honked again. I went to the edge of the deck and waved. When I turned back, she’d gone inside.
I got my purse and stopped in the kitchen where she was opening a container of mushroom soup. “I hope you’ll change your mind.” I went to stand behind her, putting my hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently. “We have a few things to clear up.”
She lowered her head and shook it slightly. I walked toward the door, thinking I’d talk to June about what to say to make it better. “I’m not sure I can count on you,” I heard Beck whisper as if to herself, and the pain in her voice made me ache almost as much as the words themselves. I’d hurt her more than once, and now I had no idea if the relationship between us could be fixed or how to go about it. In my casual encounters, it had been easy to let someone go without a backward glance. To return to friendly terms with Beck, it was clear that something would have to change. What, and more importantly, how, I had no idea.
* * *
June was completely absorbed in planning for Mel’s birthday week, and the W’s added wonderful suggestions for other activities. Unlike me, they’d obviously done some research about the area, and we had the whole week planned out in no time. A 4x4 SUV ride to see the Corolla wild horses, Jet-Skiing, and climbing a lighthouse were among the activities, along with lots of food, drink, and an evening at The Lost Colony play. It all sounded wonderful, except for the fact that I’d be gone pretty much all day, every day, which meant no time to speak with Beck. I tried not to fret, but Walter, ever observant, called me out.
“What’s wrong, Emily? Did you want us to include a fishing charter?”
I knew the first question was serious, though the second was not, so I sighed dramatically. “I simply can’t believe you’ve left out a visit to the Wright brothers museum. I was sure it would be at the top of your list.”
Walter’s mother’s idea of a vacation had always been planned around what she viewed as important, which meant the things she’d been taught in school. “If we could have seen the World’s Largest Thermometer or Cadillac Ranch instead of strictly authorized museums, those trips would have been infinitely better,” he’d often said. As a result, Walter’s taste ran to those quirky or environmental sights he’d never gotten to see as a child. I suspected The Lost Colony would have been out if it hadn’t also been theatrical.
“I’ve seen it. I could reenact the highlight for you if you like.” He spread his arms and flapped his lips, making a motor-like sound for as long as his breath held. “Twelve seconds. One hundred and twenty feet. That’s pretty much it.”
We were all laughing, and June said, “Be sure and do that for Mel later. We can’t let her feel she’s missed out.”
As we walked to the car, I noticed a locksmith shop across the street. “Would you mind if I run in here for a minute?”
William was already checking out the antique store next door. With a glance at Walter, whose eyes gleamed enthusiastically, he said, “Go ahead. Take your time.”
I handed over the key I wanted copied, and the clerk directed me to the aisle with locks. June followed me into the shop, wanting to know about Beck. Since she’d been very sweet with me, I decided not to hedge too much on the question. I told her there had been a misunderstanding but I hadn’t yet had time to fix it. I felt marginally better just having expressed my concern and thanked her for asking.
She nodded. “That’s what happens when you get in a serious relationship. You find at least one friend you can talk to about it.”
“Well, I wouldn’t call mine a serious relationship, but I still appreciate you lending an ear.”
I settled on a large lock with three keys and arranged for someone to come out and cut the old lock off. As I paid for my purchases, receiving the copies in a small, separate envelope, she asked, “Who’s that one for? Us?”
“Uh, no. It’s for Beck. I’ll be gone a lot this week, so I thought…”
As I trailed off, June smirked and rolled her eyes. “Not serious, huh? Whatever you say, FA.”
* * *
When I gave Beck her key the next morning, I thought she’d be pleased, but she only shrugged and put it in her pocket. I’d met her at the door, and because I was already running late. I could have left it with a note, but I wanted to see her face. Her cool disinterest hurt, and I brushed past her onto the porch, looking over my shoulder. “I thought this would make things easier for you.”
“I thought it was making it easier on you,” she replied, and I flushed.
“I won’t be home for dinner either, so don’t bother making anything.”
She worried at her lip as she looked around. “Should I clean?”
I was about to tell her I didn’t care what she did, and then I thought about PAFA. “Why don’t you do some work on your project? That was part of our deal too, if you’ll recall.”
For a second, her eyes flashed, and I knew she was angry at me. “Yes, I’m cognizant of that fact,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Good. I’ll expect you to make some progress on that today. You can show me in the morning before I leave.” I wasn’t halfway down the stairs before the door slammed behind me. Fine. I was okay with mad. Mad was something I knew how to deal with. My relationship with Aunt Sharon had featured a lot of anger…on both sides. I’d much rather Beck be mad instead of sad. I knew I was pushing her, but I was convinced that doing so was right in this case.
The next morning, I was dressed and waiting with coffee made when Beck let herself in. In the first instant, her expression lit up in a way I recognized from when she used to be glad to see me. Then her expression emptied, and she looked away. I swallowed the loss that rose in my throat and smiled.
“Good morning. Get yourself some coffee, and let’s go downstairs.”
She jammed her hands into her pockets and stuck her chin out a bit, as aggressive a posture as I’d ever seen her take. “No point.”
I kept my voice neutral. “Why not?”
“Because I couldn’t do any work yesterday.”
“Is that because you didn’t feel like it? Simply couldn’t find the inspiration?” I stood. “You know, Beck, making art isn’t always thrilling. Sometimes it’s grinding it out and refining and polishing until it turns into something magical.”
“Gee, thanks for the great piece of advice, Emily. I sure would like to try that approach, but I guess I’ll have to wait until you decide to take that new lock off the door.” She walked into the kitchen and began pulling cookware out of the cabinet.
I blinked. Shit. I hadn’t remembered what I’d arranged about the new lock. When I’d given Beck the extra key to the house, her aloof attitude had made me forget to tell her. I let out a breath. “Okay, wow. Now I feel like a total idiot.”
To her credit, she laughed. A short, somewhat angry sounding laugh, but still. “I know we’re not on the best of terms, but I didn’t want to believe you would do that to me on purpose.”
“Oh God, no, Beck. I’d never…I…I’ll get you a key for the lock too. Hang on a second.” I found my purse and rummaged for the set that came with my purchase. I carried them into the kitchen in my palm. “Here’s an extra one for your mother. Or whoever. You know, just in case.” She reached for them, and I held on for an extra second. “I wish I had more time, but I can’t get out of these commitments. I’m truly sorry, Beck. For everything. Do you believe me?”
She looked into my eyes. “Why did you put the new lock on?”
“Two reasons. After you left your work here, my friend Mel came over to see what was going on. She’s an agent, you know. Well, she acts as my agent anyway. She wanted to see your art to decide if she wanted to represent you.” Beck stiffened and drew her hand away. “I told her no, Beck,” I said quickly. “But I know Mel, and I wanted to secure things a little better.”
After a few seconds, she nodded and took the keys. “What was the other reason?”
I couldn’t look away, though I wanted to. “Me. Simply sliding open that door, especially with the WD-40 on it, was temptingly easy. But having to unlock it first and thinking of doing it without your permission reminds me you have the right to your privacy.”
There was a tiny lift at the corner of her mouth. “You remembered about WD-40.”
My phone buzzed. I didn’t have to look to know it was Mel or June asking where I was. “I’m sorry, but I have to run. I don’t need dinner tonight either, so same deal, okay?”
“Sure.” Her voice had turned flat again. I hated it, but I didn’t have a second to spare.
“Listen, since we’re getting a later start tomorrow, maybe we can have breakfast together about eight? And you can show me your work, if you feel like it.” I took a step closer, watching her carefully. “I’m not trying to pressure you, Beck. But I want to know you haven’t given up, that you still want to compete for the PAFA.”
She looked away and shifted uncomfortably. “The thing is, I’ll need a couple of days to get organized.”
“Of course.” I was dying to ask what the deadline was but didn’t. It wasn’t my business, but I was hoping since the rules required a new creation for this final stage, perhaps the time allotted was more generous. My phone buzzed again. “Let’s talk some more in the morning, okay?” She nodded again slowly, and I squeezed her arm before dashing down the stairs.
* * *
The night at Jackie’s Famous Buffet and Lounge had gone on way too long, especially since I still wasn’t drinking. This made me the designated driver, which seemed to give everyone license to drink even more than usual. But it also meant I couldn’t very well leave them, tempted though I was. June only made one trip through the line, which explained why she might weigh ninety-five pounds soaking wet and why she was less able to tolerate her numerous whiskey sours. She kept leaning against me, saying things like, “You’re the smart one in this group,” or “I wish I had your willpower.” Thankfully, I didn’t feel the need to drink at all or have any sense of missing something, but I didn’t think this was the time to explain that to her.
It was after 1:30 in the morning when I dropped them off, parking Mel’s Range Rover in its usual spot. The path to the Guest House was so familiar by now, I could make my way by the light of the moon. The air was still, and the sea was calm. In the city, I’d be jumpy, skittish to be out this late at night by myself, but here I felt a certain confidence. Maybe it was the newfound familiarity that made it seem like I was on the right track about something, but it felt good. Once inside, I realized how tired I was and rushed through my evening routine before falling gratefully into bed.
Movement. And that smell. Don’t look. He’s not real if you don’t see him. But I heard him. Close by, too close. Smelled the alcohol on his breath when he spoke. “If you make a sound, I’ll kill her.”
How did he know I was awake? I tried to see through my lids and finally gave up, cracking open one eye as little as possible. I saw he wasn’t talking to me; he was talking to Abby. Was that what really happened? His face was turned toward her, horribly near to where he held her uncomfortably in his big hairy arms.
But I couldn’t have seen that much detail. How did I know his arms were hairy? Because I’d seen them before when my father had first brought him home for supper. And he was the one who’d been working in the garden for several days in a row, always watching when we came home from school. I knew him!
I gasped before realizing my mistake. I turned over, away from the open side of my bed and toward the side against the wall, still faking sleep. I couldn’t see anything now and dared not look. Abby whimpered, and I cringed, certain at any second I’d feel his hands on my neck or a blade slipping between my ribs. How long did I lie there? How long before I found the courage to open both eyes and look? Abby’s bed was empty, and the house was still. So terribly still. I screamed then because I knew I could. Screamed loudly enough so Abby, wherever she was, could hear me.
Screaming myself awake, I sat up in the Guest House bed, the covers tangled, and my face wet with tears. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t on any right track. I was on the same goddamn loop I’d been on every day since that night.
“Fuck,” I screamed. “Goddamn fucking shit.” I didn’t know why cursing made me feel better, but it always had. Maybe because everyone in my young life had disapproved of it, and I knew that, no matter how they tried to hide it, they also disapproved of me. More than disapproved. Condemned. And rightly so. Especially since I’d already condemned myself long before the police arrived, before the doctor came to give my mother something to make her sleep, leaving me feeling more alone than I’d ever felt in my life.
Father had come home from his retreat that next afternoon, ready to share all he’d learned about the wisdom of the Lord, but there wasn’t anything he could do. I was already tried, convicted, and sentenced by the new judge who had taken residence in my mind. And God? God had gone out the door in the arms of that horrible man.
“I’m sorry, Abby,” I sobbed for what must have been the millionth time. “Please, please forgive me.” But no absolution was forthcoming. And it never would be.
Seeing the sky lighten, I knew there was no way I could pull myself together for the conversation I needed to have with Beck. I wrote a note and taped it to the door, apologizing for not being available after all. I wrote that we’d get together soon, though I knew “soon” should never come. It was laughable, really, the idea that I could have a different life simply by trying to write differently. And why should I encourage Beck to spend time here when the only thing she could expect from me was the same moral deficiency I’d discovered in myself when I’d let Abby be taken? No one with my failings deserved consideration from someone like her. My self-contempt deepened until I considered begging off from seeing Mel and the gang as well, but I knew if I tried, they’d be over here with food or aspirin or some hopeful cure for my imagined ailment.
After I heard Beck’s scooter come and go, I showered and dressed. As I locked the door, I saw she’d added something to my note. “I’ll be back tonight.” I’d never seen her handwriting before. It looked like something out of the cursive writing manual.
I added a quick reply. “The rest of this week is crazy busy. Maybe I’ll see you after the weekend.” Perhaps if I put her off long enough, she’d get the hint. I knew she’d try again, but surely she’d see, eventually, that there were no prospects with someone shackled to the misery of the past.
Over at Reefside, everyone was still at the dining table in their pajamas drinking coffee. I joined them for a cup, avoiding Mel’s curious scrutiny. But when June and the guys had gone to their respective bathrooms, she moved next to me. “Did you fall off the wagon last night, and I was too wasted to remember?”
“It wouldn’t be a good sign for you if that was the case, but no,” I said.
“Then why do you look like shit?” she asked in her usual tactful way.
“I had a hard time falling asleep. Wound up from being out with you party animals, I suppose.” I tried, starting for more coffee, but she held my arm.
“Tell me the truth, Em. Did you have another nightmare?”
She’d heard me screaming one August when we’d had adjoining hotel rooms during my first book tour. I had to tell her something, so I’d lied about a recurring nightmare where I was naked in front of an audience at a reading. “For fuck’s sake, Em. You’ve got a great body. Why would you worry about that?” she’d asked.
I had to laugh. “The fact that I’m naked has nothing to do with my body. It’s about feeling exposed, vulnerable, with strangers.” All those years of therapy weren’t for nothing, after all. But I still had no intention of discussing the worst moment of my life with someone I wasn’t paying to listen, certain that anyone who found out what kind of person I truly was would want nothing more to do with me. And I wouldn’t blame them.
She’d frowned. “I used to dream I was late for school, but there wasn’t anyone in the house who could take me. It must have been, like, finals or something because it was very important for me to be there, but I wasn’t, and it freaked me out really bad.”
“What if you assume that dream wasn’t actually about school?” I had been so grateful to change the focus of our conversation from me to her that I would have willingly conversed about NASCAR if she’d mentioned it. “What else could it mean?”
She’d been quiet for a time. “Maybe,” she finally said, talking her way through it, “it was about me feeling alone, like, abandoned. And that it was important to me to have someone around for meaningful things.”
She usually hid her more thoughtful side, and I hadn’t been prepared for her to be so deeply introspective. “And do you?” I’d whispered.
Getting up from my bed where we’d been sitting, she’d yawned and stretched. “I didn’t until you, kiddo.” She’d winked and turned into her room.
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” I called after her, surprised when she stuck her head back in.
“No, I don’t.” She’d blown me a kiss, and the door closed quietly.
Now, years later, she knew me well enough to see through any casual lie I tried to tell. “Yes,” I said. “But I’m fine. At least I didn’t get sick this time.”
“This time?” Her voice rose. “How many of these dreams have you had?”
Shit. “A few over the years.”
“Damn, Emily. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“There’s nothing to tell. It’s only a dream, and it goes away.” I stood and she didn’t try to stop me but followed me into the kitchen. When I felt the touch of her hand on my back, I stepped away and gave her a playful push toward her bedroom. “Go get ready and let’s keep this party going.”
Ignoring her skeptical look, I turned away and went out to the deck. Down the beach, a lone swimmer was wading out of the surf. I squinted, trying to see more clearly. A woman, I assumed, based on the sports bra. She shook herself and walked toward the dunes, returning a moment later with a towel, which she used to dry herself before laying it on the sand as a blanket. She settled onto her stomach, head on her arms, and I wondered how it felt to be free like that. I heard the screen door, and June joined me at the railing.
“Isn’t that Beck?” she asked.
“Is it?” I squinted. I’d always been a bit nearsighted but was too vain to wear glasses.
June nodded. “She swims there almost every morning but usually much earlier.” She gave me a little poke. “She has a nice body. Very athletic. Women like that usually have great stamina.”
I laughed at that. “I wouldn’t know.” I looked toward the beach and felt June’s gaze on me.
“But you’d like to find out, wouldn’t you?”
“There’s no point, June. I’ll be gone in less than two months, and she’s young and really sweet. I don’t want to hurt her.” Again.
“Have you discussed this with her?”
“God, no. I’d be totally embarrassed. I mean, what if she said she wasn’t interested? Besides, I’d feel weird about making a move on someone I actually know.” I hoped June wouldn’t comment on how odd it was that I felt more secure having sex with a stranger, but it had always been the surest way I knew to control the ultimate outcome: leaving alone.
She looked as if she wanted to say something else, but the W’s joined us, munching on sweet rolls. William handed me one. “What are we looking at?” he asked, peering onto the beach.
“That’s Emily’s crush,” Walter said, and I glared at him, readying a retort when Mel yelled from the kitchen.
“Why is there only one fucking sweet roll left? Whose birthday week is this, for Christ’s sake?”
Like guilty children, we all cut our eyes at each other and giggled. “Let’s go,” June whispered. “Maybe we’ll hit a McDonald’s on the way out.”
I glanced down the beach again. Beck had turned over, head on hands, face to the sky. I imagined what it would be like lying beside her and closed my eyes to let myself be there for a few more seconds before I followed everyone into the house to start our day.
* * *
While avoiding Beck physically, I couldn’t shake the vision of her coming out of the water, gorgeous body gleaming in the sun. Was she working on her project? Were things okay for her at home? And did she suspect I was deliberately not seeing her? God, I hoped not. I wondered if I could make her understand I was trying to spare us both any further damage by avoiding emotional or physical entanglement. Or did she think I always ran hot and cold, and she’d finally had enough of it? Whatever the case, I spent the week torn between telling myself to keep away, ignoring the surprisingly painful image of her finding someone else to spend time with.
There had been much discussion regarding Saturday, Mel’s actual birthday, but ultimately, June decided we should stay in town, returning to the Seagoer, where we’d eaten the night I’d seen Beck with her friends and Peyton with the town thugs. Windsom Edge seemed more crowded than usual, and most of the young people we encountered were very nicely dressed. It didn’t occur to me until halfway through dinner that this was the night of the event Beck had mentioned.
“The college is having a dance,” I blurted, interrupting whoever was talking at the time.
The W’s looked at me with amusement. “Welcome to the party, Emily,” Walter said. “We all came to that conclusion about three conversations ago.”
I grinned sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I think you guys have worn me out.” I took a sip of water, hoping to soothe my voice to a casual tone. “Did anyone happen to see where it was being held?”
“I think it’s in that old theater,” June said.
“Why?” Mel demanded.
“Well, dancing is one thing we haven’t done this week,” I suggested.
Mel squinted at me. “I thought you were tired.”
But the W’s were chattering excitedly about learning the latest steps, and June leaned over and whispered something in Mel’s ear, causing her expression to change to a sly smile. “Okay,” she said, mostly to June, but the rest of us took it as agreement.
Techno music was blaring at high volume as we neared the entrance to the theater. The admission was ten dollars for a single and fifteen for couples. To my surprise, Mel paid with a fifty and told the girl at the ticket window the keep the change. I was grateful, as this week of continuous birthday functions had depleted my scheduled entertainment budget for the next two months. The college had set up bistro style tables on the edge of the dance floor, and we found an empty one near the middle of the room. Mel went with the W’s to get us drinks, and I tried to look for Beck without being obvious about it. She wasn’t hard to find. All I had to do was look for the best dancer in the room.
Provocative and sexy as hell without being nasty, Beck infused every move with power and grace. She was dressed more formally than I’d seen, in tight black jeans and a starched white collared shirt with a bolo tie. She and a boy I thought was Brick were dancing together. Well, they were dancing in the same area of the dance floor but not exactly together.
“Do you see your friend?” June asked.
I nodded, gesturing casually with my head. June followed the direction of my gaze, and after a minute, she turned back, smiling. “She’s really good. And she’s hot.”
I sighed. “Yes. To both.” Stupidly happy to see her, I had to work to stop smiling.
The guys and Mel returned with our drinks, and during a break in the music, I cast a glance at some of the other tables. To the far left, I recognized Beck’s other friend, Jonesy. I looked again and saw he was talking to Peyton. “Shit,” I mumbled.
“What?” Mel asked.
“Peyton is over there talking to one of Beck’s friends.”
Walter gasped. “That bitch from the college?” I nodded.
“Who cares?” Mel scoffed. “The video’s gone, and there’s nothing she can do to us.”
“Impersonating a police officer is a crime, even in North Carolina.”
Mel paled slightly, and Walter asked, “What about impersonating a lawyer?”
His frightened expression made me laugh. “Only if you make money out of it. I think.”
“We should get out of here,” June said, nervously glancing at Mel. “I don’t want you to get in trouble, baby.”
Mel glanced in Peyton’s direction. “I doubt she would recognize me. My hair was different, and I was wearing a uniform and shades.”
But she would certainly recognize the guys, and seeing Mel with them would give it all away. The music started again, and a group of students walked past us heading for the exit, leaving an empty table on the far side of the room. “Let’s move over there and see what happens,” I said, and began leading our group to the far wall. I wouldn’t be able to see Beck as clearly, which was probably for the best, but I wanted one last glimpse. Our movement must have drawn Beck’s attention because she had stopped dancing and was staring in our direction. Even from this distance, I could see her eyes go wide with disbelief. As our group continued walking away, she began moving toward us, pushing past the other dancers. I hesitated, not sure what to do. I’d wanted to see her but not be seen by her.
She called my name, twice, and my friends stopped. I turned slowly to face her, not sure how she would feel about my being there, but the delight on her face made me let out a quick sigh of relief as she reached us.
“Emily,” she said, somewhat breathless. “I can’t believe you’re here.” She searched my face as if still not absolutely certain it was me. Her hair was slightly damp, and her body glistened with a light veneer of sweat. Would she look like that after sex?
“Hi, Beck.” I tried to keep my tone casual. “We were in the neighborhood having dinner. I hope you don’t mind if we crash your party.”
“You’re not crashing. I invited you. Remember?”
I could feel the stares of everyone else in our group. “Uh, yes, that’s right. You did, didn’t you?”
Her eyes never wavered from mine. “Dance with me.” She took my hands and began pulling me onto the dance floor.
“No,” I said, laughing as she walked backward without looking around, pulling on my hands alternatively, making me sway. “I can’t dance to this music.”
“What are you talking about?” she said, with a teasing grin. “You already are.”
When I looked back, Mel and Walter were already making their way to the table I’d indicated. William and June had fond expressions on their faces, and he made a quick shooing motion.
“Okay,” I said. “But let’s move away some more.”
Beck nodded and kept a firm hold on one hand as we made our way through the jumble of exuberantly moving bodies. Somehow, she was able to catch the attention of the DJ and raised two fingers, like a peace sign. The volume of the music decreased, and the frantic beat slowed. The DJ crooned something about taking it down a notch, and invited all the “friends, lovers, sweethearts, romancers, and wannabe couples” out onto the dance floor.
As the crowd moved around us, I cocked my head. “Were you thinking we could be one of those?”
The corner of her mouth crooked, but her gaze was intense. “I think that’s up to you.”
I was casting about for a reply when the chords of Christina Perri’s “A Thousand Years” began playing. A sweet and terribly romantic song from one of the teen vampire movies, it had gotten so much radio play a few years ago even I knew the chorus.
I startled when Beck’s hand enclosed my waist. She leaned toward me and murmured, “Don’t be scared, Emily. It’s only a dance.”