“I knew we shouldn’t have done that,” Jonathan muttered.
“Oh, don’t be silly,” she said to both of them.
“No, I mean it,” Neil said. “We don’t want anything to happen.”
That sobered her. “Okay,” she promised. “No more flips.”
Neil looked relieved. “Good job, bro,” he said to Jonathan.
“I knew you could do it. You’ll be the hit of the reunion,” Juliet added, and kissed him on the cheek.
He was certainly the hit of the street dance. After a showy nightclub two-step with his mom, he wasn’t lacking for women who wanted to dance with him.
Dot was next to claim a dance, surprising him with how well she followed. “I was something in my time,” she informed him.
“You’re something now,” he said, earning him a smile and the offer of a free breakfast at Breakfast Haus.
Just as the band was starting another fast number, Daphne Robard came up to him. “Jonathan, hi. Remember me?”
Daphne had been in his graduating class and would be attending the reunion. A star of all the high school musicals, she’d always had a larger-than-life personality. And she’d been popular. Other than a hello when they passed in the hall, she’d never paid too much attention to Jonathan, partly because she’d been busy dating the entire football team. She’d finally made her selection and married Jimmy Miller, one of the fullbacks, then moved to California. She’d only recently returned to Icicle Falls. Rumor had it she’d gone through a messy divorce and come away with a bundle of money and that she was looking to invest in a shop in town. She’d gained more than money since Jonathan had last seen her. Daphne had lost a husband and found an extra sixty pounds.
“Sure,” Jonathan said. “How are ya?”
“Free as a bird. Dance with me.” He hadn’t said yes, but she was already towing him toward an empty spot in the growing crowd of dancers. “I haven’t danced in years. That SOB I married was a couch potato.” Before Jonathan could even get the beat to lead them into the first step, she started boogying, happily leading herself. “It feels so good to be free! How’ve you been?” she shouted over the music.
“Fine.” He could feel people’s gazes on him again. Daphne always drew a crowd. His hands began to sweat.
“Spin me, Jonathan,” she commanded, and then spun herself. “Wheee!”
Yeah, wheee. When would this dance end?
“Flip me like you did that other girl.”
Oh, no. That would be a disaster. Even with the muscle he’d gained, Daphne would be too much woman for him.
Before he could protest, she’d hurled herself into the air. None of the lessons his sister had given him had prepared him for a situation like this. Acting out of instinct and sheer terror, he tried to get an arm under Daphne, in the hopes of making sure she landed well. But she knocked him off balance. Before he knew it, he was staggering backward with his arms full of Daphne, bouncing off people like a ball in a pinball machine. They’d taken out two couples and half the skin on his arm by the time they finished their bumpy landing with Daphne on top of him.
With a grunt she struggled to a sitting position and glared at him. “I thought you knew how to dance.”
“Uh.”
That was as far as he got. Daphne pushed herself off him and stormed away, leaving him lying like an upended turtle in the middle of the laughing crowd with a sore butt, a bleeding arm and his whole face on fire.
A hand reached down and pulled him up. Adam. “What were you thinking, dude?”
“She asked me! What could I do?”
“Just say no.”
Then Juliet was by his side. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, and started walking. The walk quickly turned into a limp. Great. Now he’d be too sore to work out at the gym.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“You can’t just leave! You were doing great.”
“I’ve had enough for one night.” Jonathan had never enjoyed being the center of attention and this... If he didn’t dream about clowns tonight, it would be a miracle. “Can you take Mom home?”
“Yes.” She was frowning, clearly not happy with him.
Well, that made two of them. He nodded and limped off, wiping the blood from his shirt as he went. He should have worn something different tonight. Maybe a T-shirt with Loser printed on it.
* * *
Jonathan kept a low profile the rest of the Fourth. He joined his family for a picnic by the river but avoided the parade and the rest of the hooplah downtown. The last thing he needed was to run into anyone who’d been a witness to his abysmal debut at the street dance.
“That wasn’t your fault,” Juliet insisted, guessing the reason he was going to hide out.
“Anything goes wrong, it’s always the guy’s fault.”
“You catch on fast,” Neil said, and Juliet frowned at him. “Hey, you’re the one who says the man’s in charge on the dance floor.”
“You’re not helping,” she told him.
He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, Jon. Arnold Schwarzenegger couldn’t have flipped her. And before that, you had ’em lining up. They were all hot to dance with you.”
“If you’d have stuck around you could have danced with a bunch more,” Juliet put in.
He hadn’t wanted to dance with a bunch more women and he didn’t care about anyone but Lissa being hot to dance with him. And now, after what had happened, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to keep dancing as part of his plan to win her.
Juliet gave up on turning him into a party animal. “Okay, you’re off the hook. Go home and lick your wounds. But I expect you at the house on Wednesday for your dance lesson, same as always.”
“Uh.”
She pointed a finger at him. “No excuses. When you fall, you have to get right back on the horse.”
So the next week he was back on the horse, learning how to salsa.
“Not bad,” Juliet approved. “But you’ve got to move your hips more.”
“I can’t. It makes me feel like a girl.”
“Trust me. You won’t look like a girl when you do it.”
Who said he was going to do it? Ever?
“Next week we’ll try some country two-step and then I’ll take you to the Red Barn.”
“Oh, no.” Jonathan shook his head. “No way.”
“You have to get out and dance in public again,” Juliet said.
This salsa lesson had given him second thoughts. Man wasn’t meant to do stuff like that in front of other people. He didn’t think he wanted to get back on the horse, after all. “I probably won’t dance at the reunion.” That would be safer, both for him and all the other dancers.
“You’re a good dancer. You’d be crazy not to.”
He’d be even crazier to risk a public fiasco like the one he’d experienced at the street dance. “Look, Jules, I appreciate all the lessons, but I’m gonna stop. I don’t think I was meant to be a dancer.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re going to quit?”
Why did she make avoiding public humiliation sound so wimpy?
“One more lesson,” she pleaded. “Then, if you still want to quit, we will.”
“Okay, one more,” he said. He actually did enjoy dancing in the safety of his sister’s living room. If only he could ask Lissa to come to his house and dance.
Was Juliet right? Was he a quitter? That wasn’t heroic.
But then, dropping women at dances wasn’t heroic, either. The very thought of another public humiliation was terrifying.
His sister didn’t seem to get that, because he showed up for what was to be his final lesson to find several women waiting for him in her living room. What was this?
�
��I imported some new dance partners for you,” Juliet told him. “My book club.”
Jonathan’s hands went clammy. Think fast! “Uh, I can’t stay. I just came by to say I have to...” What? “Run some errands,” he improvised.
“You can do them later,” his sister said. “Anyway, all the shops are closed now. There’s no place to run.” She grabbed his arm in a vicelike grip and hauled him into the living room.
“Hi, Jonathan,” said Chelsea, Adam’s wife. “This is going to be fun.”
Not for him...
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to dance with you at the street fair,” said Cass Wilkes, owner of Gingerbread Haus. “I really wanted a chance to learn that slow dance you did with your mom.”
“And I wanted another swing dance,” put in Dot.
“I want to learn to swing dance, too,” Cecily Sterling said.
Oh, Lord. Dancing with Cecily Sterling. He wouldn’t remember a single step. Charley Albach was just as intimidating.
He didn’t care if Juliet was related to him. He was going to kill her.
“Okay,” she said, “who wants to go first?”
“I’ll break the ice,” Dot said. “Come on, kid, let’s show ’em what we’re made of.”
Juliet had her playlist all cued up and she started with a fast vintage rock number, “Betty’s Lou Got a New Pair of Shoes.”
Jonathan pushed his glasses up his nose and then wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. The beat was pounding like a jungle drum but he couldn’t seem to hear it. Where was the beat?
“You can do it, kid,” Dot said.
He swallowed hard, nodded and wiped his hands on his jeans again. Then he rubbed an imaginary itch on his forehead.
“Okay, wait here,” Dot said, and stepped away.
He released his breath and watched as she pulled the other women into a chick huddle. The huddle broke up and they all turned their backs. What the heck?
Now Dot was back. “Okay, kid. Nobody’s watching. It’s just you and me. Let’s get some dancing in before this song ends.”
She put a hand on his shoulder and held out her other hand for him to take so they could start in a closed position. As he took her hand, she smiled encouragingly at him, nodding her head to the beat.
Oh, there it was. He started them dancing. Then, much to his surprise, he was dancing like a pro on Dancing with the Stars. Every move Juliet taught him came as naturally as breathing. Dot was smiling and suddenly the other women were clapping and cheering. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that they’d all turned around again and were watching him, but now it didn’t matter because he’d found his groove.
Until Dot said, “Flip me, kid.”
Flip her? Here? Now? Daphne’s face superimposed itself on Dot’s. He could see them flying across the room, landing on the coffee table and breaking it.
“I don’t weigh much,” said Daphne-Dot. “You can do it.”
“Oh,” he said weakly.
“Get back on the horse,” Juliet barked.
“Go for it!” Chelsea shouted.
“Come on,” Dot urged, “prove you’ve got what it takes.”
He didn’t have what it took. Everyone knew that, including him.
Juliet was at his elbow now. “Do it,” she growled.
“I won’t take you down, I promise,” Dot said.
Dot was no spring chicken. What if she broke something?
“Hey, I don’t get that many thrills at my age. Do an old lady a favor.”
Oh, what the heck. Jonathan braced himself and flipped her.
A pair of scrawny legs sailed past his vision and then Dot was safely back on her feet. Everyone in the room was cheering and clapping again. He’d done it! He’d gotten back on the horse and stayed on.
After that, the night was one big Jonathan fest, with the women taking turns, begging for one more dance whenever he said he was tired. Juliet put on the AC, but he was still sweating by the time they finally let him sit down and drink a Coke.
“I had a great evening,” Stacy Thomas said as they tore into the gingerbread treats Cass had brought.
“I wish Adam would learn to dance,” Chelsea said wistfully, and Jonathan made a mental note to tell Adam he’d better sign up for dance lessons.
“You ever want to take a free cruise, kid, you could hire on as a dancer,” Dot told him. “They’re always looking for handsome studs to dance with all the single women.”
He was a handsome stud? Dot was either losing it in her old age or she needed glasses.
“You,” Cecily said as the party broke up, “are the best-kept secret in Icicle Falls.”
He had to smile at her remark. “Thanks,” he said.
Juliet shut the door on her guests and turned to gloat. “I told you that you could do it. You were like Derek Hough 2.0. You could go on Dancing with the Stars right now and win that mirror ball trophy.”
He should still be pissed at her. It was hard, though, when he was feeling like the dancing king. Still. “That was a dirty trick.”
“This was the only way to get your confidence back,” she said. She took the last gingerbread boy from the plate sitting on her coffee table. “You are so ready for the reunion.” Then she studied him critically. “Well, for dancing, anyway. Now we need to upgrade your look.”
His appearance, the next frontier.
“You’ve buffed up, big bro. With some new glasses and a J.Crew style, you’re going to be seriously hot.”
He made a face. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m not lying to you,” she said. “Trust me. Before we’re done with you, you’ll be able to have any woman you want.” She winked. “Even one whose initials are L.C.”
He left his sister’s house wearing a big grin.
Chapter Eighteen
On the first Saturday in August, Jonathan found himself up early and driving over the pass with Juliet riding shotgun. Why they had to go all the way to Seattle for clothes was beyond him, and he said as much as they cruised into the parking garage next to Macy’s.
“Because Seattle has a bigger selection,” Juliet explained. “And until someone decides to open up a men’s clothing store in Icicle Falls, that’s where we’re going.”
“I could just order something online,” he grumbled.
“Yes, well, I’ve seen the kind of clothes you order online. You can’t be trusted not to buy some outfit that makes you look like a walking ad for geekhood. Not that it’s a bad thing to be a geek,” she added quickly.
“Thanks.”
“But you don’t want to dress like one when you’re trying to impress a woman. For that you need stud duds.”
“Stud duds, huh?”
“Yes. Clothes that make you look sexy, not geeky. That’s where I come in. I want you to try on everything and I want to see it.”
What was this everything stuff? Wasn’t he just buying a shirt and pants? “Uh, define everything.”
“Clothes for every event at the reunion and beyond, brother dear. We are going to deck you out like a Christmas tree.”
What had he gotten himself into?
“It’s about time you let me help you get a sense of style. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.”
Thank God, Jonathan thought. She’d been after him for years, always trying to get him to change his image, giving him sweaters for Christmas that he never wore, shirts for his birthday that stayed in his closet. One year she’d even given him boxers. Sheesh.
Still, he realized now that she’d been right. He was wardrobe-challenged. But he didn’t need it rubbed in his face. Anyway, if he’d worn any of that stuff he’d have felt like a dork playing dress-up.
Which he was probably going to feel like today.
J
uliet had insisted they leave early, claiming they had a full day’s work ahead of them. At the time, he hadn’t seen how buying a couple of shirts and a pair of pants could take so long, but now he was beginning to get an idea.
“This is going to be fun,” Juliet said.
Fun. Yeah, about as much fun as hitting your finger with a hammer.
“Once we get you in some decent clothes, you are going to feel like a different man,” Juliet predicted.
He could go for that. He wanted to be different. Better. A hunk. Well, okay, that was stretching it. Better. He’d be happy with better.
It wasn’t hard to find a salesclerk eager to assist them. In fact, the guy’s enthusiasm over dressing Jonathan made him slightly uncomfortable.
“He needs an entire new wardrobe,” Juliet told him.
“I can see that.” Ellis, a slim twenty-something guy with a slick metrosexual style, studied Jonathan from head to toe, shaking his head over Jonathan’s black T-shirt sporting the symbol for pi set inside a steaming pie plate. (Caption beneath: Bring on the Pi.) “But I see potential,” he said with an encouraging smile.
“So, casual clothes to start with,” Juliet decided. “He needs some low-rise jeans and a slim fit shirt.”
“Plaid,” Ellis said. “And blue,” he added. “Great with your coloring,” he said to Jonathan, finally including him in the discussion. “Pant size? I’m thinking maybe a thirty-two, thirty-two.”
Jonathan nodded.
“And shirt?”
“Medium,” Jonathan supplied. “Fifteen and a half neck.”
Ellis took in Jonathan’s chest. “I’m thinking we might want to try a large.”
From a medium to a large. Yes! All that sweating at the gym had paid off.
Within minutes Ellis and Juliet had assembled two armloads of clothes. Did they really expect him to try on all of that?
Evidently they did.
The first ensemble was jeans and the blue shirt. He wasn’t used to his pants riding that low. But once he’d pulled off his T-shirt and seen his reflection in the mirror, he realized they did a pretty good job of showing off his emerging six-pack. “Whoa.” He didn’t look half-bad.
Romance on Mountain View Road Page 23
