Page 55 of By His Play

“Too much,” she laughs, holding her hand out so I can pull her to her feet.

“You love it,” I say before swiping the bag with her remaining sub from the ground and then taking off, dragging her along behind me.

“Kieran,” she squeals as she tries to keep up with me. “What are we?—”

I come to an abrupt halt, and she crashes into my back.

Stepping around me, she looks up to see where I’ve brought her.

“Uh…”

Taking off again, we climb the steps to the bandstand, and once we’re in the middle, I tug her into my body.

“Kieran,” she whispers, staring up at me with tear-filled eyes.

Pulling my cell from my pocket, I find the song I want before turning it up.

Effie’s breath catches the second she hears the opening beats.

She shakes her head in disbelief. “What are you doing?” Her voice is so quiet I barely hear it over the music.

“Dance with me.”

Sliding one arm around her back, I lift the other into the air, still holding her hand.

I start moving, but she doesn’t immediately fall into step with me.

Instead, she laughs. It’s emotional and full of pain, but there’s also so much joy and happy memories in there.

The song is the one Grams and her late gramps chose for their first dance. And our moves… they’re ones we learned when Grams taught us all those years ago.

Leaning closer, I whisper in her ear, “If she’s looking down at us, then don’t miss a step.”

She laughs harder, but she finally begins moving.

She smiles up at me, her joy and sadness colliding. But that smile gives me hope that her pain will subside. It won’t be today or tomorrow, or even next week. But she’ll get through it.

“I’m sorry about what you overheard on the phone last night,” I say, the memory of what I snapped at Mom coming back to me.

Effie sighs and looks down at my chest.

“It was nothing. No need to apologize for anything.”

“It hurt you; there is everything to apologize for.”

Leaning forward, she rests her head against my chest.

“I’m an emotional mess, Kieran. That’s on me, not you. You did nothing wrong. I know you’re not in love with me.”

Releasing her hand, I wrap my arms around her.

“My mom was freaking out about what color hat she needs to buy,” I confess. “Anyone would think she hasn’t lived her life surrounded by lies in the media.”

“Well, it’s humbling to know she approves of me.”

“As if you didn’t already know that. She loves you like a daughter.”

Effie spills a bitter laugh, and I know exactly why, but neither of us says it. The less time and effort we give to her parents, the better.

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