Page 31
Author: Bella Andre
“Poor baby,” she murmured, “how can I help?”
“The International Exhibition of Modern Dance is next week and the lead in the central piece came down with mono. ” Lori was already racking her brain for someone she could call to help him out, when he said, “I need you to come to New York immediately and save my exhibition. ”
“Me? But you know modern dance isn’t my specialty. ”
“Trust me, you’ll be perfect for the piece. And I’ll be sunk without you!”
“I’m flattered,” she told him, and she really was, “but I can’t leave Chicago until my show’s over next week. And then there’s somewhere else I really need to—”
“I just emailed you the videos,” he said, cutting her off before she could actually get to the part of the sentence where she said no. “You can rehearse in Chicago, and then the second your show wraps, we’ll get you on a jet and into dress rehearsals with the rest of the troupe. You’ll have forty-eight hours to fine tune before the show. It’s one night only. One very important night where I need you. ”
Everything was happening so fast, which was just the way Lori had always liked it. And she still did, she realized. Only, it felt like she was spinning farther and farther away from Grayson with every minute.
“Well,” she finally said to her friend, “I suppose I could look at the videos and let you know if I think I can do the piece justice. ”
Carter whooped and told her he adored her to pieces before hanging up.
Lori had told herself it would be easy to head straight back to Grayson, that she had simply come to Chicago to tie up some loose ends. But look how easily she’d been pulled back into not just one show, but two. She could have said no, but the truth was, she wanted to dance. Of course, she wanted to be with Grayson, too. And now she felt like she was being yanked in two completely opposite directions.
Grayson had clearly seen this coming, had obviously thought they wouldn’t be able to put their two worlds together. She’d sworn he was wrong.
But was he?
Two weeks ago, she’d avoided going to her mother for advice, simply because she hadn’t been ready to hear it. Now, as she dialed the top name on her cell phone’s favorites list, she prayed her mother was home.
“Hi, sweetie,” her mother said as she picked up. “I was just out in the garden thinking about you. ”
“The garden? How could that possibly make you think of me?”
“When you were a little girl, you loved to come outside and help me with your little plastic shovel. You’d pick out worms and be so thrilled with every carrot, every potato and tomato. Do you remember the dance you used to do around the vegetable bed?”
Lori smiled as she thought back to those wonderful summer afternoons out in the backyard, when she had her mother all to herself and lots of nice, soft dirt to play in. “I can’t believe I thought that dance I made up would help the plants grow faster and bigger. ”
“It did work,” her mother told her. “Nothing has ever grown as well since you moved out of the house and into your own apartment. Ever since then, I’ve always thought what an unexpectedly perfect fit gardening and dancing are. ”
“In that case, I’ll make sure to do a little dance for your veggies at the next lunch,” Lori said, her voice thicker now as she soaked up all of the love her mother was giving her. . . and the renewed confidence in the power of love to transcend absolutely anything. “I’ll bet Summer and the babies would love to dance around your garden. ”
“Your father,” Mary said suddenly, “was a great dancer, too. ”
Lori could so easily picture her mother in her father’s arms, elegant and oh-so-beautiful as they moved across the dance floor. It was, she knew, just the way she and Grayson must have looked at the barn dance as they’d waltzed.
She knew he didn’t think she was coming back. And it wasn’t because he didn’t love her. On the contrary, he loved her so much that he couldn’t stand the thought of making her live any way but exactly as she wanted to. But didn’t he realize, she thought with a little shake of her head, that she always got what she wanted? And since she wanted both him and dancing, somehow, some way, she was going to work out a way to have both.
Especially now that she’d found her unexpectedly perfect partner.
* * *
Grayson had never been happier about all the things that could go wrong on a farm. Today, it had been the mister going out in his pig pen. He’d spent the day covered in mud and swearing at plastic pipes and tubing. But, frankly, he wasn’t sure how he would have gotten through the day in one piece otherwise. Not when every single thing on his farm reminded him of Lori. The way the pigs had snuffled around him all day, wishing he was their beautiful friend coming with special treats and pats for their little heads. The way the chickens had run to the gate when they saw him coming, only to back away when they realized he wasn’t Lori.
When the plumbing job was finally done and even he couldn’t take his stench anymore, he showered out by the back of the barn, but that reminded him of the first night when he’d had to come out to shower to try to escape her and the feelings he couldn’t contain. He’d wanted her so much, but more than that, he’d already begun to admire and like her. And then, of course, there were the many sexy showers they’d shared after that. . .
When the water grew cold, he wrapped a towel around himself and went back into the house.
God, it was quiet. Too damned quiet. But there were flashes of color all around now from where Lori had brought out a vase that she’d found up in the attic, along with the bright yellow quilt she’d bought in town at the General Store because she said it made her happy just to look at it.
His phone rang and when he saw her name on the screen, he leapt at it. “Lori. ”
“Grayson. ”
Even for a man of few words, he’d never realized that so much could be said with so little.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she said. “Tell me about your day. Even if it has to do with something boring about a tractor or fertilizer, I want to hear it. ”
He laughed, the sound not nearly as rusty now as it had been for most of his life. All because of her. “I spent the day knee-deep in pigs and mud and broken water pipes. Your basic average dream day on a farm. ”
How he loved the sound of her laughter, could picture her holding the phone up to her ear, probably twirling around on her jaw-droppingly perfect legs as she spoke to him.
Always moving.
Always laughing.
And so full of love she never failed to stun him.
“Wow, two sentences was one more than I thought I’d get out of you,” she teased. “You must really love me. ”
“I love you so damned much,” he confirmed for her, before saying, “Now it’s your turn to talk my ear off. ”
“I did it, Grayson. I got in Victor’s face and told him to get out of mine. I fired him with the full support of everyone in the show. It turns out that after I left, they put two and two together and found out what he did. But honestly,” she said in a far more chipper voice than he would have thought after having to deal with that slime, “squashing that bug only took a few minutes. The rest of the day I was working with the troupe, and that was really great. ” She barely paused for breath as she barreled ahead and said, “I’m going to need to stay here for the rest of the week to take them through to the end. ”
“Of course you are. They need you. ” And she needed them just as much. It was something he’d never doubted for a minute.
It wasn’t until she was finally silent for a long moment that he knew something else was up.
“I want so badly to come back to you and the farm the second the show is over, but…”
Another pause came and he had to grab a kitchen chair and sit down to brace himself for it.
“A friend of mine needs me to go to New York C
ity to be a last-minute replacement for the lead in his show, which means I’ll need to fly from Chicago to New York to perform at the International Dance Exhibition the following weekend before I can catch a red-eye to come back to you. ”
Grayson wanted to beg, even wanted for a minute to be bitter that she’d chosen dancing over him. But how could he do either of those things when he knew she was making all the right choices?
Of course she had to do both shows. And of course she’d have to do all the other shows that would come next, opportunities she couldn’t possibly turn down. Not only because so many people in her industry depended on her, but also because she was meant to dance, and to keep dancing.
But she was also meant to be with him, damn it.
Grayson wanted to see her dance. And he wanted to be as brave for her as she’d been for him. Not only in the way she’d insisted on loving him after he’d tried so hard to push her away, but by confronting the man who had hurt her so that she could love again with a whole heart.
Lori had been brave enough to face down her past.
It was long past time for him to do the same.
Chapter Twenty-five
Grayson stepped off the plane in New York and found the driver waiting for him by the luggage carousels. For a moment, it felt as though the past three years hadn’t happened. As though this were just another business trip, and he was simply heading home to Westchester to shower and change and have a pre-dinner drink with Leslie, where both of them tried to act interested in things they didn’t actually care about at all.
When he gave the address to the driver, to the man’s credit, he barely betrayed a response. In the backseat of the town car, Grayson took out the picture of Lori as a little girl that Mary Sullivan had given to him at Sunday lunch. He’d kept it with him every second since she’d been gone, and it never failed to bring a smile to his face, even now.
Both of her front teeth were missing, she was wearing ripped boys’ jeans and a T-shirt that were both at least two sizes too big, and she was hands down the prettiest thing he’d ever seen in his life as she leapt through the air, dancing in the middle of her crowded backyard. He could see the way, even at eight, that she’d blossom into such a striking beauty. He could also see that she was too determined, too stubborn, to ever allow anything or anyone to take away her joy, her love for life.
Grayson wanted to be worthy of sharing that life with her, but he wanted something else, too. He wanted, one day, to take pictures of his own little girl as she danced and laughed and loved just like her beautiful mother.
At the entrance was a flower stand and Grayson asked the driver to stop, tucking the picture into the pocket above his heart as he opened the door and stepped out of the car. He didn’t buy the biggest, flashiest bouquet. Instead, he bought a small bouquet of bright tulips, Leslie’s favorite flower.
“I’ll walk from here,” he said to the driver, who nodded and pulled over to the curb to wait.
The cemetery looked the same as it had three years ago during his wife’s funeral, the last time he’d ever been here. The grass was perfectly green and meticulously mowed. The sky was full of dark clouds that looked as if they would burst with rain at any moment, the gray, cold sky so different from the clear blue over his farm.
As he approached Leslie’s gravestone, he could see that it was polished clean and bright, with an enormous bouquet of flowers in a vase beside it that he knew had to be from her parents.
The last time he’d been here, he’d been stunned. . . and racked with guilt. The shock had eventually lessened as he accepted that she really was gone, but the guilt, the blame he’d placed on himself for not knowing his own wife better, had deepened. Every day, as he’d put on his suit and tie and gone in to work to field questions and sympathy from colleagues and friends and people he only knew from cocktail parties, the guilt and blame and disgust with everyone who said they loved her and missed her but who hadn’t done a damn thing to stop her self-destruction, grew to the point where he knew he couldn’t stay there another second. He’d needed to start over in a world that was as far from New York society as possible, so he’d gone west and, just like Lori in her rental car, had stumbled onto his farm. The real estate transaction had been completed by nightfall, and Grayson had never planned on looking—or coming—back.