Page 10 of There I Find Happiness

“If you were playing an instrument, you wouldn’t be able to dance,” he pointed out reasonably.

She laughed, looking up at him, her face just barely an inch from his. “That’s a good point. Are you always so pragmatic?”

“No. Usually I’m...known as the goofy one. But when you have a brother like mine, it doesn’t really take much to be known as someone who’s never serious, since he’s never not serious.”

“Eleanor seems very happy with him.”

“She does. Sometimes I wonder how that can be, but I suppose you can’t explain love.”

“I guess you can’t,” she said, and he forgot to sway. Somehow he was caught in her eyes, and maybe it was the festive atmosphere, the end of summer, the last glimmer of the sunset on the lake, the twinkling lights above them that could almost be stars, or maybe it was just Sally. He wasn’t sure what it was, but the swaying stopped, and he slowly lowered his head.

Was he really going to kiss her? He could hardly believe it; that hadn’t been his intention. He wanted to come over and talk to her. Kissing really hadn’t been on his agenda, but he couldn’t seem to stop the movement of his head as it continued down. Maybe if there had been some sign from her that she hadn’t wanted him to continue, he would have stopped. But her gaze turned dreamy, and then her eyes slowly closed. As she lifted her head, meeting his.

He forgot about the music, forgot about the people on the floor, forgot that he was supposed to be dancing, and even forgot that the woman he was about to kiss had a sore foot. He forgot everything but the feel of his arms around her, the feel of her warmth under his hands, and her breath as it fanned across his face. Her scent, sweet and a little minty, as she stood before him. There was a soft touch of fruit, maybe strawberries, and a feeling that settled deep inside of him that this was exactly right.

From somewhere that seemed like it was far, far away from him, he realized that the music had stopped, after someone had hit a very bad note. He didn’t pay any attention, but then a voice called out, “Sally Marianne Curtis! What in the world do you think you’re doing?” And Sally jerked back from him, putting weight on her sore foot, which caused her to stumble.

He reached forward to grab hold of her to help her stand, but she stumbled even more as she struggled to get away from him.

Just a few seconds before, she had been content, leaning into him, holding on tight, and now she didn’t seem to be able to stand his touch.

What had he done?

Except he knew. It was Norma Jean who had just yelled at her best friend, and that was what Sally had been telling him, that she would stand back because of Norma Jean. So that must be what made her struggle to get away from him.

“Let me help you to your seat,” he said, and his words sounded irritated, even to him.

That was mostly because he was irritated. Not at Sally. At Norma Jean.

“Please don’t touch me,” Sally said, sounding a little breathless, although he doubted it was from their near kiss. It was probably more because of the pain in her foot.

He lifted his hands up in the air, like he was showing that he didn’t have a weapon, rather than holding his hands away so she wouldn’t feel the need to struggle anymore. It was just a second after that that she grimaced, and Norma Jean arrived, panting, at their side.

“What kind of friend are you? You know that Peter is mine. I saw him first, I called it. How dare you step in and try to steal him out from underneath me!”

“Sally wasn’t doing anything. I asked her to dance.”

“You stay out of this,” Norma Jean said, pointing a glossy purple fingernail right in his nose.

He took a step back without even thinking about it. That fingernail could double as a weapon.

“Don’t yell at him. It was all my fault. I... I shouldn’t have been dancing. My foot hurts.”

“Yeah, you’ve been sobbing about your poor foot since dinnertime today. I think it was to get out of work.” Norma Jean put her nose in the air. “Why don’t you just go on home. At least get out of my sight. I can hardly stand to look at you. Some friend you are.”

Hurt crossed Sally’s face, then she lifted her chin.

“Sorry,” she said, although she didn’t sound like she was begging. She sounded like she was stating a fact. And Peter had no trouble believing that she truly was sorry.

Kind of made him sorry that he’d insisted that they needed to dance, because he hadn’t realized how much it would upset Sally to have Norma Jean upset at her.

He supposed Sally was a kind person who liked for everyone to get along. He was that kind of person too, although people like Norma Jean irritated him. He’d like to tell her a thing or two, but he supposed that wasn’t really his job. Sally had mentioned it a little bit earlier, saying that it was just her job to love her.

He knew God put people like that in a person’s life to rub off their own rough edges. It was up to each individual to fix themselves according to Scripture, and it was not for him to criticize or be unkind to Norma Jean.

Still, he couldn’t consider someone like Norma Jean a friend. Not for him.

Maybe there was more to her than met the eye.

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