Page 2 of The Last Dance

‘He didn’t go out of his way.’ I shake my head, writing the name of the customer in front of me, Violet, on an empty cup and handing it to Jenna. ‘They fell into his lap.’

‘Right, fell into his lap.’ She laughs, the whir of the espresso machine finally overpowering her words.

I admit that I might have mentioned to Henry that I wanted to go to the Infusion show a time or ten. I have every time they’ve played in Portland for the last decade. I also knew good and well that the tickets were sold out. I honestly didn’t think he would even attempt to find tickets. They’re a great band – my favorite, actually – but according to Henry, they aren’t exactly twelve times live great. I’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.

Secretly, I was hoping he would pull through somehow. When he called me last night to tell me he just happened to have a client with tickets they could no longer use, I tried my best not to squeal into the phone. I didn’t succeed but I think we both knew it could have been worse.

‘Since you don’t want him, can I have him?’ Jenna asks when the espresso machine quiets again.

‘No…’ I answer with a roll of my eyes. ‘Trust me, for the thousandth time when I say that Henry is a broken man. He’s got demons he can’t always silence.’

That’s not even a lie. He’s not dark and demented or anything. Quite the opposite really. The last couple years though, they’ve changed him in a way I didn’t even realize was possible. He’s still the same Henry I’ve been friends with for years, most of the time. But other times, he’s depressed,reallydepressed, which isn’t something I’ve ever witnessed in him before now.

Unfortunately, I get where he’s coming from. I’ve struggled with everything too. For me the hardest part was watching her go.Herbeing my sister, Rory. She died last year, almost a year ago exactly, on my birthday. Yeah, my birthday hasn’t been the same since. She was the perfect older sister even though we were complete opposites in everything from personality to looks. She was three years older than me and only twenty-seven when she took her last breath.

Henry and I had been friends for years before they started dating five years ago. Including the year she was sick, they dated for four years. This month she’s been gone a year. One of the longest years of my life. She was exactly his type: blonde, successful, social, and sweet. She was a year older than him, but you’d never have known it. Henry’s always been one of those old souls. As if he’s lived life before and was good at it even then.

He and I are so close that he actually asked my permission before even asking her out. Had I known what her passing would do to him, I’d have said no that day. And yes, I know that’s selfish and there is absolutely nothing wrong with Henry as he is right now but I sometimes miss my best friend from before.

He’s always been the strongest and bravest person I know and was even while she spent months in the hospital. If she was in the room, he was everyone’s rock. Including my own. After she died his ability to deal with everything as he had been able to was gone. Like a light switch flipped off and he was done. Neither of us were ready for her to go and it’s really left us both stumbling through life trying to find a new normal.

Every day when I meet up with him for coffee before we go to work, I hope and pray that I’m not walking in to meet the Henry that I can’t seem to console. The one who can’t seem to see past what he’s lost. Not because I don’t still adore him when he’s like that, but it hurts so much to see him that way. Those days are getting fewer and farther between as time goes by, but they’re not completely gone. I’m starting to wonder if they ever will be.

Through it all, we’ve become even closer than we were before. He’s there any time I need him and vice versa. Whether it be the middle of the night or the middle of the day. Anytime one of us needs something, without fail we go to one another.

As destructive as it is, death seems to bond people in a way nothing else can. He’s become so much more than my best friend over the last year. As Meredith said to Cristina inGrey’s Anatomy, he’s my person. He’s just not myromanticperson.

Jenna and I work our way through a few more customers before the elderly woman, who is now at Henry’s side, walks up to the counter.

‘Ladies…’ He grins. ‘I’d like to buy Florence’s coffee today. Go ahead, Florence.’ Henry winks over at her and even though she’s got to be at least eighty-five years old, she giggles like she’s sixteen and smitten.

‘I like my coffee like I like my men… strong.’ She bats her eyes at him, gently touching his biceps and giggling.

He’s not exactly ripped, but he’s not scrawny either. He’s just… normal. Your average guy that could turn every woman’s head that passes him.

She turns away from us when Jenna starts pouring her coffee, thanking Henry for his kindness and planting a kiss on his cheek, leaving maroon lip prints as evidence that he can swoon even the elderly.

‘My pleasure, Florence. You have a good day today.’ He grins as she walks away from him towards an empty table, waiting for her strong coffee.

‘Sucha ladies’ man.’ I laugh.

‘Hardly.’ He laughs with a shake of his head.

‘Your coffee is on me. It’s the least I can do since you’ve once again somehow pulled off the impossible.’

‘I’d likehimto beonme,’ Jenna says in a whisper hopefully only I can hear. I shoot her a glare.

‘I guess you do owe me.’ He winks.

‘Anything you want.’

‘Anything?’Jenna asks me under her breath from her spot in front of the espresso machine, a coy smile on her face.

STOP,I mouth to her.

‘I’ll bring it over to you,’ I say to Henry as I grab a cup from the stack, writing his name on it and setting it on the counter in front of Jenna.

‘Howare you not in love with him? I mean, look at poor Florence.’ We both glance over at her; she’s still staring his direction. ‘She’s gonna be dreaming of him the next time she—’

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