Page 76 of Save the Last Dance
“Good luck, son.”
“G’night, Mom.” He hardly got the words out there because he was too busy shaking the cobwebs of his old views of his mother from his head. “Thanks.”
She held up a thin hand in acknowledgement while gesturing for Erin to bring her home. Mack’s sister was by her side immediately, holding an arm to be sure their mother didn’t fall with her less-than-stable feet.
Damn. Mack had known his mother was looking more clear-eyed. He hadn’t known she was so feisty. Or that the assortment of medicines she’d taken in the past had sapped her energy and forceful personality so much. But she’d had enough good days that he recognized the strong charactershe was presenting now. How sad to think she felt she’d been robbed of opportunities in her life because of less awareness and less options for treating her disease.
Still, he’d sure as hell been given the full effect of his mother’s clarity tonight. She was right about Ally’s strengths. And about his own fears of taking a chance on kids based on old, outdated understandings of what it meant to battle bipolar disorders. What if his mother was correct and new medications, therapies—hell, moreacceptanceof the illness from the people around her—could help her maintain the kind of focus and level emotions he’d noticed in her recently?
He’d been so stuck in the past, he’d been blinded to the present and unable to see what the future could hold.
His eyes found Nina again. This time, there was no looking away. No wishing for a different outcome. He owed the woman he loved a hell of a lot better than what he’d been giving her. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to convince her that he could change.
Chapter Eighteen
The Harvest Dancewas almost over, the end of the festival weekend imminent.
Nina double-checked the clock on the wall in the fairgrounds’ kitchen while she input some contact information into her phone. During the dance tonight, she had made an appointment with her realtor to look at some other possibilities for properties to develop a farm-to-table establishment that really stressed locally sourced foods.
All the while, she’d been trying to distract herself from the inevitable goodbye to Mack. Their last dance. If only she knew when he planned to return. The waiting was killing her, each ticking second making her wonder if she could find a livable compromise, because the thought of losing him was tearing her up inside.
Strangely, her one nice moment this evening had been encouragement from Mack’s mother, who’d sought her out to apologize for “any unmeasured words” she might have used in their last conversation. The embarrassment in Mrs. Finley’s eyes had been enough to tear at Nina’s heart and make her empathize with all she’d been through. And Ninaherself had wanted to apologize. They’d parted, if not quite friends, at least as friendly acquaintances.
“Can I steal you away for a few minutes?” Mack’s voice called from the door.
She hadn’t expected him to find her for another half hour when the dance was scheduled to end.
“Certainly.” Tucking her phone into her purse which was hanging on a nearby hook, she gave Mack her full attention. “Although I think it’s a little early for our dance.”
She wanted to say more—something about how special the weekend had been for her—but the words stuck in her throat. They sounded too much like the goodbye she’d been putting off.
Mack looked so handsome in his gray pants and a dark blazer. He must have found somewhere to change before the dance since he’d worn jeans most of the day. A white dress shirt with no tie was casual enough for an event that was a glorified barn dance, but reminded her that he was an accomplished businessman with a successful track record. A man who couldn’t wait to get back to his business, in fact.
“I know.” He stepped closer, the kitchen empty now that the dance was almost over. “I hoped you had time for a walk down the fairway first. We were both so busy, there wasn’t much chance to enjoy all the work we’ve put into the event.”
“I’d like that.” Nina grabbed her sweater, which Mack plucked from her fingers. Wordlessly, he held it for her so she could slip her arms in more easily. A gentleman. “I didn’t even get to try Frisbee tic-tac-toe, and I’m sure I would have aced it for sure.”
His palms lingered on her shoulders for a moment as he slid the red wool cardigan into place. Even with the barrierof her sweater, she still savored the stroke of his touch. She had to close her eyes to will away the urge to turn and press a kiss to one of his hands.
“With your killer competitive instincts? I’m sure you would have, too.” He held the back door of the kitchen open for her.
She hugged her arms around herself as they stepped outside into the night air. It was cooler than she’d guessed—probably below sixty. But she’d been hot indoors after spending much of the day in the steamy kitchen, so the chill in the air was welcome. They strode past a huge rack full of carved jack-o’-lanterns lit with battery-operated candles. Fierce faces stared down at them while the yellow-orange glow reminded her of the lights inside the dance.
“I was happy to hear a lot of the farmers sold healthy amounts of produce from their booths.” Nina had gotten a thorough report from Harlan Brady, who was never far from her grandmother lately. “I think next year we should really gear the food to showcase the harvest crops. Maybe challenge the local restaurants to compete for most original squash dishes or invite some brewers in to taste test fall beer flavors.”
Her mind had been racing with ideas for foods and food related businesses all day, but that was partly in response to the fact that she was trying so hardnotto think about Mack. How could she be so certain and excited about a new path for her life when that path was also destined to bring her such heartbreak?
“Those are great ideas.” Mack seemed distracted as they rounded the ring toss. He tugged her closer to the jack-o’-lantern display and toward a bench just behind the metal rack of pumpkins. “Nina, I do want to hear your thoughtson next year’s festival, but I asked you out here because I…I want to talk about us. Now.”
Her stomach summersaulted. This was it. His ultimatum that would lead to a break. And how could she condemn him for it when she’d drawn lines in the sand as well?
He drew her down to the cast-iron bench beside him and kept her hand folded in his. A few people still milled around out on the fairway, taking a breather from the dance. Music from inside the venue spilled out onto the fairway, the muted strains of steel guitars drifting past her ears. But back here, hidden behind an eight-foot wall of pumpkins, they were alone. Private. She swallowed hard, unprepared for this, even though she’d known this was coming. She wanted her dance, damn it. She wanted one last wonderful memory with him.
“Mack, I get it. I understand.” She’d recognized that a future together—unless she ruled out children and moved to Nashville—was an impossibility. “There can’t be an ‘us.’ But can’t we at least?—”
“No.” He shook his head. Firm. Resolute. “That’s not true.”
He readjusted his grip on her fingers and gazed at their joined hands. The moonlight shone down, joining with a street lamp to cast a halo around them. She stared at the back of his neck, at that vulnerable patch of skin showing a thin tan line from where he’d gotten a fresh haircut. Why was it that something so inconsequential as a haircut tugged at her? Was it the thought of him putting on his best face for this event for his family in spite of the fact he had a business and a life elsewhere?
