I blink, dropping my gaze to the ground before glancing at Nicholas, whose gaze flickers from Candee to me. He gives me a sad smile and music fills the air.
***
I breathe.
Exhale.
It’s such a beautiful day, and I refuse to let anything ruin it.
My gaze roams around, looking at the crowd we’ve attracted, and the couples eager to enroll themselves in the class. Candee is in Nicholas’s arms. She has a mild smile on her face, and her bottom lip is pressed between her teeth. It’s silly how determined Candee was when she was trying to impress Nicholas, and now that she’s finally getting there, she’s shy. But what she doesn’t see is the longing in Nicholas’s gaze as he stares down at her like he can’t believe Candee is in his arms. Maybe Candee was right all along. Maybe Nicholas is into her—he’s just not ready to admit it.
My gaze looks around, falling on Remi. Despite the tension hanging on his eyebrows, he has a smile on his face as he discusses his classes with a couple. But the bags under his eyes are an ugly reminder that no matter how beautiful this day is, it’s still not a happy one.
His gaze lands on me, and he pauses. It’s a brief moment, but my heart falters. His eyebrows gather, and he blinks before continuing with the couple. I exhale. He’ll come to talk when he’s ready. Because I know he has feelings for me—it’s not a one-sided thing. And I need to let him know he’s not a rebound.
With light, hopping steps swaying with the music, I make my way around the couples dancing to see what they have on their board.
Agatha and Anthony smile at me as I stop at their board.
We never know which dance will be our last,
So, we make each one feel like our first.
A slight ache builds in my chest, reading their board. It’s a combination of sadness and happiness. I’m sad because we all know Anthony’s days are numbered, and I’m happy because Agatha got to live with what many others never got or will never get—true love.
I reach the husband and wife trying to save their marriage.
Make the little things count.
Isn’t that what marriage is about?
A small smile forms at my lips as I look at these two, their arms snug around each other, and hope flares inside me. If a couple wants to save their marriage, there’s nothing stopping them. And right now, looking at these two, I’m convinced they’re going to be all right.
I walk toward the grandma-and-sexy-neighbor couple. Grandma is stepping over Jeremy’s shoes, and every few seconds, her hands are slipping down to find Jeremy’s ass, which is making him roll his eyes.
We are going to die as we have lived.
Then we might as well live with no regrets.
I’m about to continue walking when I’m stopped by a touch on my shoulder. I turn around to see Mom. “Mom!” I jump into her arms and squeeze her.
She laughs. “People will think you’re still in kindergarten.”
I pull back to see her eyes all misty. “Mom? What are you—” I’m about to ask what she’s doing here when I notice my dad. “Dad?” I ask in disbelief. I shake my head, not understanding.
“Your dad and I had a conversation. Then, we had a fight. And then, we had another conversation. A different one.” She rubs her hands over my arms, and I take a look at her. She’s smiling—a genuine smile. I can tell because she’s got sparks in her eyes.
“Do I want to know what that conversation was about?”
Dad steps forward and gives me a side hug, pressing a kiss on my head. “Let’s just say that I’m surprised your mom didn’t ask for a divorce.”
My eyes bulge in shock. “You guys are getting a divorce?”
Mom chuckles. “No, sweetie. We’re not. We’re working on our marriage. We’re having two-sided conversations now.”
My eyebrows meet my hairline, and I look at Dad to gauge his reaction, and he doesn’t disappoint. He cringes. “It’ll take time,” he chides Mom, who places a hand on his arm and looks up at him with affection. A smile spreads over Dad’s face. He caresses a piece of hair away from Mom’s cheeks while looking at her like she’s the only one worth looking at.
Wow.
What happened to these two? Did Dad’s look-alike take his place, like in the movies? Did they drink a love potion? Did they have sex? Oh, no. We’re not thinking about that.
“Dad, I’m so sorry for the way I spoke to you the other day.”
He shrugs. “I guess, as you said, I needed to hear that.”
“Um, I’m scared to ask what happened to you two because you look like—”
“We’re in love?” Mom supplies.
I nod, my eyes still refusing to blink.
She shakes her head. “We’re not, but we’re definitely falling in love. Again.”
And as if he couldn’t stop himself, Dad leans down and touches his lips to Mom’s.
Definitely sex.
When they finally realize I’m still standing here, looking at them like a creep, Dad clears his throat, and Mom’s cheeks turn ruddy. “Your mom told me what your class is doing here today. She wanted to come and see you and the class, of course. So, here we are.” Dad curls an arm around Mom and gives her a loving jostle.
Mom looks at her husband with love shining in the smile she’s giving him before turning to me. “I have a little news for you.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going back to dancing.”
“What?” My gaze ping-pongs between them.
Mom nods, tears gathering in her eyes. “Your dad and I are going to a dance class next week.”
“Dad’s going to dance?” My high-pitched voice turns some heads toward us, but I’m too busy gawking at my parents to give a damn.
“I’m still not sure how I was convinced.”
It was wild monkey sex, then.
Mom slaps his arms. “Do I want to know what dance form?”
“Not kizomba.” Dad shakes his head. “Too much ass.”
I laugh. “Yeah, kizomba is all about the ass.”
“We’re starting rumba.”
“Okay. Well, I hope you like it.”
“Too much slow-motion dancing for my liking, but in our old age, I don’t blame your mom for choosing it.”
Mom mocks a gasp before looking back at me. “It’s all because of you, Kaci dearest, and your boyfriend. You made me realize that we fight for what we love. And that’s what I’m doing. That’s what we do.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I blurt, refusing to ponder on this little heartache. “But I’m so happy for you, Mom.” I grab her hands in mine. “You finally listened to your own words.” I laugh, tears blurring my view. “You were meant to enjoy every bit of your life, Mom, and you deserve this. Let no one, no one, convince you otherwise. And because it is time to fly, spread those wings wide and soar, Mom.”
#WeAreAllDreamers
SEVENTEEN
#TheMonster
Remi: I need you. Please. I’m going crazy.
I tap my foot, waiting.
Tap, tap, tap, tap …
He finally opens the door, and my heart squeezes, seeing his red-rimmed eyes. “Remi …”
His face crumples. “I’m so scared …”
“Hey …” I take a step toward him on shaky legs, and unable to stop myself, I pull him closer. He brings his arms around me and tightens our hug, sobbing softly. We stand like this at his door, his face in my hair and my head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as I rub his back, trying to comfort him.
“Kaci.” He pulls back but keeps his arms around me. He peers down at me. “I can’t lose her. I’ll go crazy.”
I swipe my thumbs under his eyes and get rid of the tears there. My hands wrap around his muscles. “You’re not going to lose her.”
“I can’t sleep. I can’t sit down. I can’t stay in this house. I cannot bear not having her here where I know she’s safe.” He lets his hands fall to his sides and turns around, walking inside. “I just
can’t stop thinking about what she must be feeling. I know she’s scared. She’s probably crying herself sick. I want to call her and tell her everything will be all right. I want to promise her that I, her brother, will get her home. But I can’t do that.”
He turns around, facing me again. “Can I? Can I make her a promise, not knowing if I’ll be able to keep it?”
I don’t answer him because I didn’t know the answer myself. Closing the door behind me, I walk to him and press my hands on his shoulders to make him sit on the couch. “I told Candee I’ll be spending the night at your place. I can’t leave you alone tonight.”
He takes my hands in his and pulls me down on his lap. “I want you here tonight, Kaci. Nicholas went out. The silence was killing him, so he took the bike. Otherwise, I’d have come to you. Thank you for being here.” He looks me in the eyes. “I’m sorry for what I said the other day.”
I give him a small smile. “You’re not my rebound.”
His eyes fall shut. “I know,” he whispers, letting his head fall between the crook of my neck. “I know … I shouldn’t have said that.” He pulls back to look at me, a scowl on his face. “I was being an ass. I shouldn’t have said that your asshole ex had good reasons to cheat on you. I shouldn’t have said that Wylla was missing because of you.” Bringing his hand up, he tucks away a little piece of hair from my cheek and keeps his hand there.
“Margaret knew Nicholas and I’d be in class, so she took Wylla away. I knew that when Nick called me. I was angry, and I was scared I was going to lose her.” His voice quivers, and he looks down. He gulps a few times before meeting my gaze again.
“The last time Margaret took Wylla, we found her behind a trash can. It was … it was winter, and she wasn’t wearing enough layers. Margaret was on drugs at that time as well, and after hiding behind the trash for a while, she forgot Wylla was with her and left her there. Wylla didn’t make a sound because she didn’t want to go with Margaret. We found her three hours later.”
“Remi,” I whisper, biting my lips to stop myself from tearing up. “Everything is going to be all right.”
“I was scared I was going to relive that nightmare, and I vented that anger on you. I’m sorry, Kaci. You didn’t deserve that.”
“I’m still a little pissed at you.”
“I know, and I wouldn’t want it otherwise. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“But, right now, I’m here.”
He nods. “You’re here.” He lets his head fall on the headrest, looking at the ceiling. “Nicholas and I knew Margaret was planning to kidnap Wylla. The last time she did it, she had similar visits, but this time she moved faster than we anticipated. I should have asked Wylla to go to Mrs. Dunlop’s place until we came home. There are so many I-should-haves. Maybe it makes me a bad brother, but my brain cannot stop reminding me that this is good proof against Margaret. And then I feel guilty about it because even though it’s just a scratch, Wylla got hurt.” He exhales a long breath and lifts his head, looking down at me with tears in his eyes. “How can I look at the positive side of this kidnapping? How dare I?”
My one hand curls over his shoulder until my fingertips are running up and down his neck. “Because you want Wylla to have a safe place to stay. That’s why, Remi. The kidnapping is done, the accident has happened, and we cannot change anything about that, can we? So, naturally, you’ll look for ways to make sure the same thing doesn’t happen to Wylla again. It doesn’t make you a bad person, Remi. Margaret is the bad person here, not you.”
Sadness flashes in his eyes as he takes my hand in his and locks our fingers. “Remember when Margaret came over the other day and said I was the monster in Wylla’s story?”
“Yeah …”
“Margaret wasn’t always a bad mom, Kaci. She was once the reason we had food on our plates. You need to know the truth about me. About what happened to Wylla to decide whether you still want me. You need to know what happened from the beginning,” he says, holding my gaze. He moves me from his lap and makes me sit on the couch. “Kaci, I’m going to tell you the whole story only once. No questions. If you still want to stay, we’re never talking about it again, okay?”
***
Her cries were unbearable.
I’m unsuccessfully swinging Wylla in an attempt to shush her, knowing it won’t stop her cries because she’s hungry, and Mom can’t feed her.
Mom drops all the contents of her purse on the floor and gathers each cent in her fist. “Here, take this. Only the instant formula.” Mom hands me the money with a shaky hand before wiping the sweat accumulating on her upper lip. “Go,” she urges with a hand gesture. “Go before he comes.”
I place a crying Wylla on the floor, and with my heart hammering between my ribs, I move to get out, but before that, the door swings open, banging twice against the wall.
Bloodshot eyes prance from me to land on Mom. With a clumsy foot, he rushes to Mom, almost stepping on Wylla, making me jump.
I know I should seize this opportunity and rush to the store, but Dad isn’t here today. Today, he’s lost. Only his drug-addict self is before us.
“I need money,” he barks, fisting Mom’s blouse. “Now! I need money now. Give it to me. Please, Margaret.” He shakes Mom. I don’t move. I know it’ll only get ugly if I interfere.
Still crying with hunger, Wylla is crawling on the floor, making her way to me. I want to pick her up, but Mom shakes her head at me.
“I don’t have a cent to give you. See for yourself,” Mom says, gesturing to the scattered contents of her bag.
“Don’t lie to me!” he screams, his spit flying. “I need the money. I’ll die if you won’t give it to me. You want me to die. You want me to die, you bitch!” He slaps Mom across the face with the back of his hand. My hand curls into a fist, and I take a step forward. Mom shakes her head again.
“I don’t have any mon—” She doesn’t get to finish the sentence. Dad punches her in the face and grabs her by the neck, stopping her from falling.
“The money, Margaret. That’s all I want,” he speaks, his voice low, almost silent—dangerous.
Breaking the one rule Mom has for me—never interfere—I shout, “Leave her!”
He laughs, not bothering to turn around and look at me. “Then tell her to give me the money.” The bones on the back of his hands start to appear, and Mom’s eyes bulge. He presses on her windpipe. “The money!”
“Leave her,” I shout, above Wylla’s screams.
Mom’s eyes start to water, and she starts slapping his hands away. “Remi … has the … money.”
“Remi, my boy,” he drawls, throwing Mom to the side and making his way to me. “Please, give your poor father that money. I promise, I’ll take the money and leave right away.” He stops in front of me and bends at his waist slightly, outstretching his palms up as one would beg.
“It’s for Wylla,” I whisper, tightening the money in my hand. I’ll die before giving him the money.
“Give him the money,” Mom chokes out, holding her neck. Tears make their way down her cheeks. I hate seeing Mom hurt.
“The money, Remi!” The veins on his neck bulge.
“No!”
“No?”
“No, it’s for Wyll—” The back of his hand meets my cheek before I have the time to finish. I push at his chest, but he grabs my closed fist, knowing it contains the money.
“Give it to me,” he growls, trying to open my fist, but like I said—over my dead body. He struggles with my fist until he realizes I’m not giving up. He leaves my hand and staggers backward. Wylla screams louder. “I’m asking you one last time, Remi. Give me the fucking money.”
“It’s for Wylla. She needs food more than you need drugs,” I yell, looking at a red-faced Wylla, who is now slapping my leg, wanting me to pick her up and make her hunger go away.
“It’s for Wylla?” he asks, stepping forward menacingly.
“Yes.”
“If she’s the reason I can�
��t have the money …” The sentence hangs between us, and before I understand what he means, he picks Wylla up by the neck, raises her above his head, and with a crazy glee in his eyes, he slams her body on the floor.
***
My heart.
My heart.
I bring my trembling hand to my heart, massaging the chaos there and sink into the couch.
“I swear to you, Kaci, I’ll never forget the sound of her bones breaking …” His shoulders start to shake, and he lowers himself to the floor, facing me. “I was going to kill him but rushing Wylla to the hospital was more important. Mrs. Dunlop had already called the police. They took Alan with them, and he died a few weeks later. Margaret went crazy. She could barely keep food on our plates, let alone bear the hospital expenses. Nicholas’s parents stepped in and helped. Somewhere along the road, Margaret was lost. I don’t know what exactly triggered it. Wylla? Alan’s death? She started drinking, and a few years ago, I learned she was taking drugs. Long story short, Mom was growing more unpredictable, and then one day she just left.”
Remi wipes his tears and looks down at his hands. “So, you see. Wylla was injured because of me. Alan died because of me. And Margaret became a drug addict because of me. I ruined my family. And after everything that Margaret did for us back then, I’m repaying her today by taking Wylla away from her.”
“How can you believe that? How can you believe you’re responsible for all this?” I get up from the couch and walk toward him. “Remi, you were a boy. A child. Your father was supposed to look after you, but he didn’t. He’s the monster. He destroyed your family. He’s the one who injured Wylla. He’s the reason for his own demise. And as for your mom, she dug her own pit. Instead of starting a new life, she decided to screw it. She was an adult, Remi. You were not. So, don’t do this to yourself.
“Remi, you’re still that little boy, holding those cents in his hand, trying to get out of the house, but you couldn’t.” I crouch down in front of him.
“And you’re still there, Remi. You need to get the hell out of that house. You need to get out of that life. If you’re going to be a parent to Wylla, you need to be the parent she needs, not one who is going to mope about his past.” I can’t believe I said all this. But he needed to hear it.
Darling, Dance with Me Page 9
