Page 48 of Trigger's Forever

I shake my head, taking a large swig from my milkshake.

“I’ve had the idea of it for as long as I can remember, and I just added a few minor changes to it last night.”

“Red, you should really put this out.”

I look down at the flier I made once again and read it for the hundredth time.

Dance With Me Dance Academy wants you to join usis written in pretty purple font across the top. Info about different types of dance are in separate boxes across the page with my phone number listed on the bottom.

“I was thinking of talking to Trinity and seeing if they could put it in their newsletter. There has to be at least a few college kids that need extra money and can teach kids to dance.”

“That’s a great idea, babe.” Trigger wipes his napkin across his face. “We can make you a website and you can post about your new studio, even advertise that you’re looking for dancers and teachers.”

I wiggle in my chair with excitement, picturing my beautiful new studio filled with little dancers and other women teaching those kids alongside me.

“You could do an open house of sorts. Once you get a few bites from either teachers or students, you could plan an open studio day where kids come and try it out. Then, you could get them to sign up and see how many people are interested in what types of classes.”

“That is a wonderful idea, Jamie!”

Trigger’s eyes shine with a look of satisfaction when I call him by his real name. The few times I have, it’s just come out naturally. The wistful smile pulling at his full lips tells me that he really likes it when I do.

After we finish all of our food, Trigger helps me off my stool and takes my hand. I follow behind him as we wander around my childhood home.

“Do you think you’ll want to move in right away?” Trigger asks me as we stand in my mom’s old bedroom-turned-closet.

I run my fingers along the textured white wall. “I’m not sure. Maybe.”

“Ghost said you can take anything you want from the apartment. He’ll replace whatever you take.”

“That would actually help a lot. I love everything in my apartment.”

Trigger grins, leaving the room and wandering across the hall to my old bedroom as he calls out behind him, “I’ll have the prospects move everything over this week.”

As soon as I step into my old bedroom, nausea hits me as memories flood my mind, painting vivid pictures of my childhood. The window seat in front of the bow window is where I was sitting when my first boyfriend told me he thought redheads were ugly so he couldn't date me anymore. My dad came in and found me curled up in a ball, crying my eyes out. I had to lie about the boy’s name because his look was so murderous, and I thought for sure he was going to go out and murder a 14-year-old boy without question.

The cushion on the seat has now been changed. Before it was a pinkish color with stains from where I spilled my purple nail polish. The replacement is a nice cream color.

The built-in bookshelf to the left of the closet door, which looks exactly the same as it did all those years ago, is where I kept all of my trophies and awards from dance competitions.

Trigger’s voice breaks me out of my memory fog. My eyes rise to meet his as he asks, “Will this be the babies’ room?”

I nod my head, picturing two cribs pushed together up against the back wall. “The other two rooms aren’t quite big enough.”

“It’s kinda far from the master though.”

I roll my eyes. “That was my mother’s doing. She wanted me as far away from her as possible, but you never heard me complain about it.”

“Is it too far for the babies?”

I smile at him, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’ve been reading some of the baby books I got and pretty much all of them say that, for at least the first few months babies should stay in their parent’s rooms. It makes it easier to learn their noises and take care of them when they wake up during the night. I’m going to get two bassinets to keep next to the bed.”

Trigger nods. “I read that too. I just wanted to make sure that when they get older, you’ll be okay with them being in here.”

His odd question throws me. I shrug it off and turn back to the window, looking down to the pool below. That is one thing that looks the exact same, except for the new pavers around the patio.

“I loved that pool so much,” I murmur to myself.

He stops behind me, looking down to the patio with me. He points to the blank spaces of grass off to the side. “Over there would be a perfect place for a swingset. And a fire pit over there.”

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