Page 133 of The Life-Changing Magic of Falling in Love

‘You don’t have to stay away, you know.’

‘I know that.’ Now.

‘The way we keep her alive is to be alive, yes?’

‘Yes.’

‘And in that spirit, maybe you should ask George to dance. See what happens?’

Chapter Forty

DANCE LIKE NO ONE’S WATCHING

Ashleigh

I don’t know why I thought I’d be able to steal back into the marquee without anyone noticing. I try telling myself no one is watching me but, of course, my family absolutely is.

CeCe is retying the sash around my niece’s party dress for the thousandth time today, all the while offering me a fierce smile as she tracks my progress across the floor. Joey is eating from a plate piled with food – go figure – but still manages to fist-bump his heart at me when our eyes meet. My mother… Oh, Lord, my mother breaks from her group and makes a beeline for me until my father gently puts his hand on her arm, and with a look that says “Our daughter has this under control”, steers her instead towards the dancefloor.

What made my pa so confident in me? What made George feel the same earlier?

Not that I’ll ask George when I find him. But maybe I’ll ask him to dance. With me. To a slow song. I mean, I already know the man can move from his Tony Manero impression, whereas I’m not sure I was made for dancing. Not with all the Clumsy inside me. I try picturing what I’d look like throwing some shapes with him but instead what comes to mind is the two of us moving against each other…

And then, adding another whoosh to the heat suffusing my body at the thought, there he is, suddenly turning to face me like he has this in-built radar for me.

The notion is kind of thrilling.

As he watches me walk towards him, I feel as if I’m floating. Maybe it’s the alcohol finally kicking in. Maybe it’s that after talking with Shelley-Ann I’m feeling so much lighter.

Whichever it is, the floating at least makes it impossible I’ll trip over anything.

He’s standing with Jasmine and Rob and I wonder what they’ve been talking about but somehow, I’m not worried. George isn’t Zach. He won’t run in the event of an intense conversation.

Jasmine has her arms wrapped around the angel wings collage, and, oh, it’s as if Sarah is standing right with her, making my heart sigh extra emotionally as it powers through my lungs.

I’m not going to run either.

When I finally reach the three of them, George reaches out, pulls me into his arms, and looking down at me, asks, ‘Okay?’

I nod, deciding there’s definitely going to be some dance-asking if it secures me more of this wrapped-in-his-arms feeling but then he’s looking at Rob and inclining his head towards the bar area and I’m left standing with Jasmine.

‘Are you really okay?’ she asks as soon as we’re alone.

There’s no point in pretending I haven’t been crying but I nod again, clear my throat and say, ‘In case you weren’t already aware, your mom’s the best.’

Her smile turns soft. ‘Yours too. She’s been checking in on me every now and then. Brought me books on grieving. Gave me details of pertinent podcasts.’

‘Oh God – that’s Ma, for you.’

‘But it was so well-intentioned and somehow always exactly when I needed it. When I met Rob, I got a more formal visit. I think she was deployed to establish if we were the real thing, and if we were, whether it was too soon, you know.’

Maybe my new habit of checking everyone is okay – of helping – isn’t only the guilt or fear since Sarah dying. Maybe I’m more like my ma than I thought.

Wow.

Level ten mind-blowing.

‘You’re wedding toast was my favourite,’ Jasmine says, adding with a quick laugh, ‘You were right – Sarah would have hated lemon yellow.’

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