Page 7 of Dance in the Light
After squirming, Cindy looked sheepishly around. “Well, I’m sort of between jobs right now. So I could stay here and slowly work on the house, pack things up, and such.”
“What? Did you lose your job?” Marcie’s eyebrows shot up.
“Sort of. Yeah, I guess.” Cindy turned toward the sink and ran water with soap to do some dishes as if to avoid further questioning, but that wouldn’t stop them.
“Aw sis, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Megan moved to her side. “But surely you’ll need time for your job search? Besides, what would James think about you being here for some time?”
James? Who’s James?
“Well, since we broke up some time ago, I suppose he’d think nothing.” She reached for a stack of dishes to wash. More avoidance.
In town for a few months? And unattached?Good thing her back was toward me, so she couldn’t catch my eyes touring down her backside. I tugged at my t-shirt collar. The temperature of the house raised suddenly by at least twenty degrees. I hardly slept a wink last night, thinking about her. Three months of the same would damn near kill me.
“Oh my God, sweetie. We’ve been so caught up in Dad’s funeral. Guess we’ve had little time to talk.” Marcie hugged Cindy from behind, and a few seconds later, Megan joined them. “Are you going to be okay? Oh, leave those silly dishes and come sit.”
Cindy followed them to the table, but her eyes landed on mine. As if speaking to me, her emerald orbs echoed her words.Three months. Unattached.
My mouth went dry, but it was foolish. I knew better than to believe anything could happen between us over three months. Besides, when she returned to New York City in the fall, because I already knew she would, my daughter and I would still be right here in Glendale Falls.
Keeping my distance from Cindy Hale would be the obvious course of action for my sanity and my heart.
“If you’re sure about this, Cindy, then I think your plan could work. With Megan and I having babies soon, we won’t be much help, though. Of course, you’ll be around to help Cindy too, won’t you, Ryan?” Marcie batted her eyes at me.
What the fuck was I? The Hale Errand Boy working for nothing?
“Of course, yeah, anything you need. Just call me.”
Well, shit.
SIX
SHOCK AFTER SHOCK
CINDY
We couldn't have picked a worse day or more sweltering one to hold the baby shower. Record temperatures for spring meant the air conditioner in the meeting hall of our local Baptist Church also picked a fine time to go bust.
One overheated mama-to-be, Marcie—make that two, including Megan—sat while being fanned by a couple of Mom’s old friends. I took over hostess duties, keeping the shower games going for the guests.
Marcie called Gabby over. “Please ask the caterer for more sweet tea, honey. With ice, if possible.”
“Sure thing.” Off she went into the kitchen.
“Okay ladies. This next activity is . . .” I called out and glanced at the list Megan gave me. She’d organized the entire shower, but seeing how she was trying to keep the swelling down in her legs by keeping cool, she needed help. “Writing messages on diapers? Um, it says here, changing late night diapers can be more fun if you write a cute note or draw a picture or leave an encouraging word.”
I raised an eyebrow at Megan. “Writing on the diapers? Really?”
“Have you ever had to get up and feed a baby twice a night and lose sleep?” She retorted.
I peered down at my feet and realized what a blessing it was to see them without a round belly in the way. Then again, the pang inside of me knocked, as if sayingHello out there. We need a sperm donor, stat.
“Trust me, Marcie, you’re going to be grateful for this little stash of diapers at three in the morning when the baby has colic and won’t fall asleep. From my first shower, my girlfriends drew a bunch of penises as stick figures saying funny things. Oh Lord, they put a huge smile on my face the entire first month after Gus was born.”
“Yes, lovely.” Marcie shifted in her seat uncomfortably, taking the tea out of Gabby’s hand. “Oh, did you call Ryan yet?”
“Yep, he’ll be here shortly he said.” Gabby went off to deliver a stack of diapers and colored pens to each lady in the room.
Just when I thought I’d escape a day in Glendale Falls without the name Ryan being spoken or without seeing him . . .
