Page 134 of The Perfect Mistake

“They’d think you’re a catch,” I say. That much I know is true, unequivocally. Even if they might have something to say at first about the age difference between us.

He snorts. “Right. Maybe on the surface. You’re the one who’d be sacrificing by being with me.”

That makes me pause. Sacrificing? Does he really feel that way?

But then the elevator doors open, and he walks through them, joining his kids. I follow and vow to ask him more about it later.

Alec

It’s hard to shake off the mugging. The fear lingered the day after, and the one after that. For several nights straight I’d held her as she fell asleep, in her queen-size bed, on the other side of the apartment. Her naked body half-draped in my arms was worth lying awake for. Hearing her soft breathing, knowing she’s safe and sound, and mine. At least for the time being. Until I looked at my watch and knew it neared the time my kids sometimes woke up and looked for me, and I had to disentangle my body from hers.

It’s getting harder and harder to do.

When I get home from work that Tuesday, it’s to the now-familiar sounds of laughter in the apartment. Another dance party, most likely. I undo my tie and walk into the living room to find them, Willa, Sam and Isabel, dancing to the sounds of an upbeat salsa song.

Isabel is holding Willa’s hand and twirling her around. They’re both smiling. It’s a beautiful sight.

Sam sees me first, racing toward me on quick legs. I lift him high. “Whatcha doing?”

“Dancing!” he says. “Isabel got a job!”

I turn to her. She’s stopped dancing at Sam’s words, her happy smiling dimming.

“You have?” I ask.

Isabel nods. Willa’s hand slips out of hers, and my daughter dances toward the piano. “I waited to practice until you got home,” she says. “Can you help me today, too?”

“Yes, of course, honey,” I say. But my voice comes out strained. “Let me just talk to Isabel first about this job.”

“It’s not really what it sounds like,” Isabel says quickly. “Why don’t you guys go see if Katja needs help with dinner in the kitchen?”

Sam wriggles in my arms, and I let him down. He joins his sister, running to the large kitchen island where Katja is chopping vegetables.

I nod toward Isabel’s room down the hall. She passes me gracefully and walks quickly down the corridor. I follow her, shoving my hands in my pockets. Of course she’s gotten another job. It shouldn’t surprise me. A nannying position here was always a lull in her journey and not a destination. A pit stop to refuel and rehab.

She walks into her room and I push the door half-shut behind me. It’s funny how familiar this room is to me now when I’d only been in here twice before Isabel moved in. Now, I know the bed behind her as well as my own.

She digs her teeth into her lower lip. “It’s a job idea. I met up with Diane today. She’s a ballerina who retired nine months ago. We had coffee and started talking and…” She smiles. “I think we could start a dance studio together.”

“A dance studio,” I repeat.

“Yes. A place that embraces dance for fun, and for exercise, and not for perfection. It would be for every age group.” Her eyes shine with excitement. “We spoke about it for hours, until I was almost late to pick up the kids from school. I haven’t felt this energized about dance in quite some time.”

Her exuberance makes me glad. “That’s great, sweetheart.”

“There’s a long way to go still. But we have some leads about other dancers who quit… who might want to teach a few classes.” Her smile turns crooked. “It’s not performing in front of an audience. But it’s dance, and it’s joy… and those two weren’t connected for me for years. I’m kinda looking forward to experiencing that again.”

“You’ll be exquisite,” I say.

She raises her eyebrows. “You’re biased.”

“I’m always an excellent judge of business ideas.”

“Right.” She rolls her eyes and steps closer, reaching out a hand. I grip it and pull her against me. “This doesn’t mean you need to find a new nanny, you know.”

I settle my hands on the small of her back. It’s become my favorite place in the world to rest my hands, along the smooth curve of her spine.

No, she’s not quitting today. But that doesn’t mean she’ll be with us forever.

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