The Dance

by Suzie Carr

  Brooke laughed. “You could say that. Of course this one doesn’t involve honeybees, just an over-zealous person trying to set up a date.”

  She wondered what type appealed to her. Tall, short? Dark or blonde hair? Athletic or book nerd? “Hmm. Is he handsome at least?”

  Brooke met Jacky’s stare. “I’ve only seen a picture from the online dating site. She’s handsome in a feminine way, sure, but not my type.”

  A woman.

  She dated women!

  Okay, calm the fuck down.

  Her phone buzzed a new voicemail.

  “She’s an eager one,” Jacky said.

  “It would seem.” Brooke placed her phone in her back pocket. “Where were we?”

  Jacky eyed Bee. “We were about to embark on a great opportunity.”

  Brooke clasped her hands behind her back and swung side to side. “Sounds so intriguing when you say it like that.”

  Jacky grazed the full length of Brooke’s long legs, seductively entombed in a pair of leggings that complimented her toned curves, then landed back on her playful stare. “Well it should. What’s opportunity without intrigue?” Her voice sounded too eager. She needed to chill out before her heart leaped out of her chest and exposed her for who she really was in that moment – a deprived woman suddenly yearning for human touch.

  Marie, in all her stocky and robust build, would be doing leaps and clicking her heels together in joy if she could peek inside her mind and see the carnival of thoughts.

  “Well don’t keep me waiting then. I may not survive the suspense.” Brooke brought her hands to her chest and looked up at the canopy of trees, feigning the agony of uncertainty.

  “Your momma is silly,” she whispered to Bee.

  Brooke kept her head lifted to the trees. In the morning sunlight, her face looked more freckled. She had a beautiful smile, friendly, warm and genuine, and it brought out the faint laugh lines lining her jaw. Those lines, lucky as they were, sat front row to the things that brought this curious woman happiness, escorting her through life’s magical moments.

  Brooke lowered her gaze to Jacky.

  Embarrassed at being caught staring, Jacky tore away. She settled on Bee’s well-behaved mug, instead. She could feel Brooke’s eyes upon her, and that sent her body into a clumsy spiral. In those few moments, an intense rush of giddiness and pleasure swam in her. Jacky widened her grin as the seconds passed between words.

  Jacky liked Brooke. She liked being in her presence. She had a calm, yet stoic vibe that comforted her.

  “Shall we get started?” Brooke asked.

  Jacky stood, attempting to calm her heart and act more like a credible trainer than a lovesick puppy with too many endorphins flooding her system.

  ~ ~

  On Tuesday morning, Jacky awoke to a body full of flutters. She stretched and turned over on her side, remembering her seductive dream as if she just walked out its door. She buried her head, willing herself to climb back into that slumber where everything touched her with tender, intoxicating strokes.

  She grasped a handful of the pink, velour blanket and snuggled up to it, imagining Brooke in her arms. Brooke’s delicate pink lips and infectious twinkling eyes played out in Jacky’s mind, arousing a flush that burned from deep inside.

  In her dream Brooke kept gazing at her with those bold caramel-colored windows to her soul, daring her to come closer and abandon her inhibitions. Her pull capsized Jacky’s ill attempt at staying a safe distance. Jacky broke free of all restraints, opening herself up to the free-falling thrill of the moment.

  They danced under a starlit sky to the slow and steady rhythm of a romantic waltz, cheeks brushing and emotions flowing. In her arms, Jacky found solace and entered into Brooke’s enticing sanctuary where nothing else mattered but the caress of another’s skin against her own as they shared a small pocket of unadulterated air.

  Mesmerized, and with millions of stars as their witnesses, Jacky met Brooke's breath and together they became one. Arm in arm, they swept across the earthen pathway, indulging in every flower’s scent and every cricket’s chirp, satisfied only by the other’s presence and thrill of knowing they’d yet to even enjoy the rush of brushing against the other’s lips.

  Jacky moaned under her blankets, tormented by the reality that faced her outside the haven of her dream. She could never feel that alive in real life ever again. How could one be granted that kind of grace twice in a lifetime?

  Chapter Nine

  Free time didn’t exist when you owned a small business. When Jacky first quit her job as an assistant director in the human resources department of Park Square Credit Union and began her entrepreneurial adventure at the Inner Circle School and Daycare, she envisioned long stretches of hours just for her and her family.

  She planned to wake up without an alarm clock, go for a run, cook a gourmet breakfast, schedule a few appointments, take a nap, schedule a few more afternoon appointments, and be home to cook a healthy dinner. Then, she and her family would sit around the table and discuss life while they shared laughs. She’d end the evening with a good book and retire by ten o’clock. Life would be like a vacation, doing what she wanted when she wanted, answering to no one but herself.

  Yeah right.

  A day off would’ve been a gift, let alone several free hours.

  Bills came in. They needed to be paid. If a client called and needed help, she couldn’t refuse. They’d call another dog trainer if she couldn’t get them in. So, when clients called, she booked them when they wanted, where they wanted.

  Saturdays to a dog trainer were like Monday through Fridays to a bank teller. People were off work and expected her to be free. They came to her with problems like excessive barking, pacing the yard, digging holes, lunging at strangers, snapping at children, you name it.

  When Sophie told her about starting at Brooke’s apiary on Saturday and how she’d need to drop her off by ten and pick her up by four, Jacky cleared her morning and late afternoon schedule to be available. She would forfeit new clients if it meant half a chance at bonding with Sophie over those twenty minute rides to the apiary.

  When she dropped her off that morning, Sophie leaped out of the car in a flash. “Tell Brooke I said hello.”

  Sophie waved and dashed. She walked halfway up the driveway before even Bee realized she should’ve been barking.

  The rest of the day dragged, despite having a mix of challenges from aggressive dogs. Typically she loved such days, but she couldn’t get her mind past the idea that in a few short hours, she’d see Brooke again.

  At four o’clock sharp, she arrived to pick up Sophie.

  She spotted Elise balancing a tray of glasses and walking toward the greenhouse. Bee, of course, guarded the front window. Jacky pointed her finger at her as she passed by, and she stopped barking. Good girl.

  Jacky waved to the group as she approached. Sophie and Brooke were removing their netted helmets and Tom wrestled with pulling a leg out of his jumper. He wore a sweatband and patted his shiny, bald head with it.

  As Elise brushed past him, heading for the workbench that housed a stray hive box, he stumbled over his jumper and bumped into her. She saved the drinks. “Honest to goodness, Tom.”

  He shrugged. “It’s these new sneakers you bought me. They don’t fit right.”

  “Well you should have come with me to buy them yourself.”

  Brooke cleared her throat, and they stopped squabbling.

  “I figured you might need some water,” Elise said.

  Sophie took one and emptied it in a long gulp.

  “Good lord child,” Elise said. “You’re dehydrated.”

  Sophie’s whole face lit up.

  What a gift.

  “How was your first official day,” Tom asked her, taking a glass for himself and pouring it over his head.

  Elise shot him a look.

  “What? I’m hot.”

  Elise scowled and turned to Jacky. “Men!”

  Tom eased
himself down on a nearby bench. “So, it’s always customary on a first day to invite the new employee out to eat at Sprago’s.” Tom looked at Sophie. “Do you know Sprago’s?”

  Sophie shook her head no.

  “It’s this cute Italian restaurant.” Elise leaned forward and whispered, “They’ve got the best baked ziti ever.” She looked at Jacky. “Would an early dinner work for you both?”

  “It sure would,” Sophie asserted.

  “I guess it will,” Jacky said, then shared a private smile with Brooke.

  ~ ~

  An hour later, they sat at a round table with a white starched tablecloth and a single red carnation in a vase in the center. The waiter had placed a basket of bread in the center of the table, then began pouring water into everyone’s glass. Sophie reached for the warm buns, then turned to Elise and offered her the basket first. “Bun?”

  Elise’s eyes gleamed. “Oh my! Aren’t you a polite one?” She reached for a golden bun and handed the basket back to Sophie. “You’re next, then pass it to your mother. Mr. Hastings can wait.”

  The couple reminded Jacky of how she and Drew would fight about ordinary things like spilled water and eating too fast. She used to walk out of the room when Drew would chew potato chips because she couldn’t stand the ferocious crunching. When Drew would snore after drinking too much wine, Jacky would contemplate the vulgarity in pinching her nose to wake her up. Those little things meant so much to her now that she couldn’t complain about them anymore. One day, Elise would contemplate the necessity of all those times she wanted to pinch Tom’s nose or toss his potato chips down the drain and she’d probably land herself in a sorrowful cry over the railing of her porch.

  Life was cruel like that.

  Jacky gazed at the red carnation and fell silent on its petals as she listened to Sophie ask the patient couple a gazillion questions about bee colony collapse. Whenever they’d answer, she’d sit up tall, getting right up in their faces, and absorb their words like a brittle blade of grass needing rain. Their animated answers provided Sophie with the kind of moisture that grew fields of tall, healthy flowers and forests of trees. Each word acted as nourishment, bringing Sophie back to the sort of life Jacky only remembered pre-accident days.

  Tom and Elise fed a part of her soul that had been decaying from lack of nutrition, a nutrition she refused from Jacky time and again.

  When Brooke jumped into their conversation on Russian versus Italian bees, Sophie’s entire being lifted. Even the wispy hair around her face bounced.

  “The Italian bees are little piggy poos,” Elise explained. “They eat all their honey during the winter and forget they’re supposed to keep a surplus to get them through to spring.”

  “That’s adorable,” Sophie said.

  “Those Russians, they are the best housekeepers,” Elise continued. “They’re immaculate, which helps against disease.”

  Tom buttered another bun. “They’re amazing little creatures.”

  Sophie also took another bun, and chomped into it without butter. “I love working with bees. I’m going to help save them. You watch.”

  Her daughter transformed, blossoming into a new bold, vibrant version of herself.

  Jacky relaxed against the comfort of Sophie’s beautiful attitude for the remainder of the delicious dinner with all its tangy tomato and garlic flavors. They ate homemade pasta, stuffed mushrooms with spinach and ricotta cheese, and sipped red wine as they indulged on grapes for dessert. Drunk on the tasty food and lively conversation, Jacky gazed at the group and enjoyed the comfortable pull on her heart.

  Later, when they returned to Brooke’s home and belted into the front seat of her car, Jacky let out a relieved sigh. “We needed that, don’t you think?”

  Sophie stared out the passenger window and offered her usual response, an ambivalent shrug.

  Jacky would’ve dug further had Elise, Tom and Brooke not been waiting for them to back out of the driveway so they could wave goodbye. Biting her tongue, she turned the key.

  The engine wouldn’t turn over.

  She tried again.

  It sputtered and refused to catch.

  “Did you leave the lights on?” Sophie asked with a trace of genuine concern.

  Jacky fiddled with the lights. “No. It’s not the battery.”

  Sophie scratched her forehead as though embarrassed of Jacky in front of her new friends.

  Jacky opened her window. “Bad news. The car is dead.”

  Brooke leaped forward. “Oh no.” She looked to the star-filled sky, pausing. A moment later, she glanced back at Jacky. “Do you want a lift home and just deal with this in the morning when it’s light outside.”

  Sophie already broke out of the door before Jacky could suggest calling a cab.

  ~ ~

  When Brooke pulled up into Jacky and Sophie’s driveway, the home appeared just as she imagined – quaint, subtle and understated. The Cape Code style home sat tucked into a suburban cul-de-sac. The mailbox replicated the bluebell siding and brown trim of the house. A golden light illuminated the front living room, and Brooke spotted a cute dog, likely a cocker spaniel and retriever mix, in the front window.

  “That’s Rosy,” Jacky said, fingering the door handle.

  Brooke gazed in the window and glimpsed a blue and tan plaid couch, draping the home in a country, cozy look. Rosy’s head bounced side to side, blocking Brooke from seeing into the house any further. “She’s a cutie.”

  “You should come in and meet her,” Sophie scooted up in her seat.

  “I’ve got delicious green tea, if you’re interested?” Jacky offered.

  “I’ve never met a green tea I didn’t like.”

  Sophie opened her door and leaped out. “Green tea it is.”

  She and Jacky followed suit.

  As Brooke took her first step into their home, the smell of pumpkin spice danced on the edge of the warm lighting, wrapping her in a sense of home and hearth. Brooke admired her decorating taste and talent. Whenever she attempted to decorate her house to look like one of those IKEA showcases with the practical, yet sophisticated vibe, she always ended up mismatching the wall hangings with the furniture and lamps. A room filled with second-hand clutter resulted.

  Rosy curled up around her feet, tossing herself on the floor and exposing her wavy-haired belly. Brooke lowered to her knees and rubbed her. “My God, I’m in love.” Rosy squirmed and snorted like a baby pig, soaking up every stroke Brooke offered.

  “Looks like she is too.” Sophie giggled, taking her jean jacket off and tossing it on the recliner.

  “Well, while you and Rosy get to know each other, I’m going to get the tea brewing.” Jacky walked toward the kitchen. “Make yourself at home.”

  “I’ll make the tea,” Sophie said. “You two can sit and chat.”

  Jacky stopped short, eyeing Sophie with a cautious twist.

  “Seriously, go, sit and talk. I’ll make the tea.” Sophie waved Jacky toward Brooke and Rosy.

  Jacky surrendered. “I’ll just be a moment,” she said to Brooke. “I have to go use the little girl’s room.”

  Brooke nodded and returned her attention back to Rosy.

  Alone in their living room, Brooke glanced around trying to decide, aside from the lighting and good furniture, what else bathed the room in that homey feeling. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Was it the pumpkin? The burnt orange and sienna blue area rug? The great big floor plant? Or maybe all the happy family pictures covering most every flat surface in the room? A beautiful portrait of a blonde woman staring out across a field with mountains in the backdrop warmed up the space above the Ben Franklin style fireplace. The woman’s face glowed in peace, the kind one only feels when everything balanced out in life. Brooke surmised her to be Jacky’s wife, and she also guessed from her glow that they had a beautiful marriage.

  Jacky entered again, swiping her hands together as if cold despite the warmth of the room. She motioned for Brooke to join her on the
couch. “Don’t worry, Rosy will follow. She won’t let you get away with just a one minute rub.”

  Brooke cradled Rosy’s cute face between her hands and touched noses. “I’ll pet you all night long. Don’t you worry.” Brooke realized how wrong that just sounded. “Well, I mean for at least the next few minutes while I sip tea with your mum.”

  Jacky sat down and rubbed her eyes.

  “You’re tired.” Brooke walked over to the couch. “Of course, my God, you’ve been working all day and then we dragged you out to dinner. You must be exhausted.”

  Jacky eased back against the couch. “I’m just relaxed, not tired.” She stifled the early warning of a yawn.

  Brooke selected a spot on the couch, a comfortable distance from Jacky. “I’ll drink my tea and be on my way so you can get some sleep.”

  An awkward stillness drifted between them as they jockeyed for a comfortable position. Jacky landed her gaze on her. “I had a wonderful time at dinner.”

  “Me too.” Brooke hugged herself, securing her light spring sweater across her chest.

  “Sophie did too,” Jacky whispered, looking over her shoulder toward the kitchen.

  She watched as Sophie opened the lid to a bottle of honey, then dipped a spoon into it. She stirred the honey into teacups with a smile on her face.

  “She’s a delightful girl.”

  Jacky turned back to face Brooke. “She likes you, a lot.”

  “Sophie strikes me as the type who likes everyone. A lot.” Brooke stretched out the words.

  “This job is just what she needs.”

  “She enjoys the bees. Actually she adores them. I could sense instant love between them.”

  “It’s the first time she’s taken an interest in something new since her mother passed.”

  Brooke hugged herself tighter. “If she lets them, the bees will teach her a lot about life.”

  “I hope so because I can’t break through to her.” Jacky twisted her mouth and avoided Brooke’s stare.