Page 52 of Gracie Harris Is Under Construction

“Thanks for helping to bring our old Josh back,” she says, looking at me with a heartfelt, genuine expression. She gives me a hug before I can ask for clarification, then hugs Josh and waves goodbye.

“Old Josh?” I ask once Lara has walked away.

Josh purses his lips and takes the last sip of a beer he’s been nursing since I arrived.

“We’ve talked a bunch about this, Gracie. The last few years put a lot of money in my bank account, but it all made me a pretty shitty friend. I was here a lot, but notreallyhere. James is never going to let me forget it was his idea, but this time off has been really good for me. Apparently, he’s not the only one who’s noticed the change.”

“I’m helping you get in touch with your true self is what I’m hearing. Also, you’re rich.”

“Something like that,” he says with a slightly forced grin, locking eyes with me.

Here we are again.In a moment. At least I think we are, butneither of us seems bold enough to call it what it is. Or maybe I just have a crush that is making me see things that aren’t really there. No one prepared me for what it would feel like to have a crush as a grown woman. Maybe I’ve just been confused since day one.

Then the music starts.

“Whitney time!” someone shouts.

“What is Whitney time?” I ask.

Before Josh can answer, Sunny sweeps up behind me to provide an explanation. Every Friends’ Night at 7:00, the bar plays “I Wanna Dance with Somebody,” and the rule is if you are here, you dance. “No exceptions,” Sunny admonishes.

“It keeps us humble and happy,” Josh adds.

A few others pop in to explain more. This group of friends has danced through divorces and death. Graduations and even incarcerations. Broken hearts and business failures. James is usually the king of the dance floor, but he and Kendell couldn’t find a babysitter for tonight, I’m told.

Josh says as he holds out his hand, “Participation is compulsory.”

The entire group has moved to the open space on the patio, and I realize, oh my goodness, we are actually doing this. These friends have danced through tears and sadness, and total happiness and bliss. This is what showing up for your people and yourself looks like. Josh whispers in my ear to explain that even during his lowest days, he was out here on the dance floor.

And it turns out, it has made him a good dancer. Luckily, I am, too. Our bodies move confidently yet playfully on the dance floor. During the chorus, he spins me around and then pulls me in tight. In all of our time together, we’ve never been this close for this long. I remember how hard it was to back away from our hug afteronly a few seconds the night he made me dinner. Tonight he smells like cedar cologne—or maybe it’s his soap or just what a man who works around the house all day smells like. I’m breathing heavily not from exertion but from the intensity of the moment.

His hand is on the small of my back, even though the current movement makes it awkward. It feels like he doesn’t want to let go, and I don’t want him to. My dress is thin enough that I can feel the heat of his hand. The moment feels just as hot and heavy, and I glance around, expecting everyone to be staring, but they aren’t. Everyone is wrapped up in their own fun little moments with each other. This is our moment, just the two of us.

When Josh moves his hand, it’s to turn me around for the emotional crescendo of the bridge. Whitney is singing “somebody who,” and we are swaying not entirely to the beat, my back to his chest, lost in our own motion. He has kept our arms entangled across my chest. I tip my head back and think I’ve given it all away—it’s a flash of pure excitement on my part. I’m wondering if he’s feeling this, too, when he suddenly turns me back around and keeps me just a few inches farther away. The physical intensity is replaced by the fact that we can now see each other and lock eyes. The song ends, and we join the others in laughing and clapping at the group’s collective dance moves.

Josh and I stare bashfully at one another in the sudden quiet, slightly embarrassed by the fun we’ve just had. It’s at this moment that I know Dr. Lisa was right with her advice. I have to figure this out. I like him.

“We should probably get you home,” he says. “I wouldn’t want to be responsible for messing up your routine.”

My writing is the last thing on my mind, but I nod in quietagreement and begin saying goodbye to those who I’ve met tonight.

“Fun fact you probably would’ve learned eventually in an interview,” I say to Josh to break the tension as we walk toward his truck. “But that is definitely one of my favorite songs of all time.”

“That tracks,” he says. “You were surprisingly on beat.” He gives me a side smile and points to where his truck is parked among a sea of other large vehicles.

Josh glides past me, unlocks the door, and opens it for me. “Chivalry isn’t dead after all,” I say as he slowly closes the passenger door and he smiles at me again through the closed window.

As I watch him walk around the front to the driver’s side, I decide to do it. Tonight.

Chapter 21

“You’re a really lucky guy,Josh,” I say as we turn onto a now-quiet Pisgah Highway on the way back downtown. My arm is hanging out the truck window, feeling the cool night air. “Your friends are amazing.”

He smiles and leans his head firmly against the headrest, turning slightly to make eye contact. “From what you’ve told me over the last few weeks, you have some great people in your life, too.”

It’s true. During the past year I’ve seen just how much people love me and want to see me happy again. Friends have let me cry ugly tears with them, and friends have made me laugh in ways I thought I’d never be able to again. Still…

“I do, I do. It’s just that most of those people have known you your entire life. They all know you on, like, a cellular level. And while I’m sure there are times it’s annoying how well they know you, it’s really beautiful.” I take a moment before continuing because I’m thinking out loud, and it’s surprising how much I’m letting my emotions show.

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