Dancing with Fireflies

by Denise Hunter

  Jade managed to find a new normal. Long after the tears stopped, when a welcoming numbness enveloped her, she found the first note on the windshield of her car.

  You inspire me, it said. Jade held it in her hands, wondering about the sender. Wondering who could be inspired by her pathetic shell of a life. Nonetheless, she set it on her nightstand and read it every night before bed.

  Then the second note came. And a pink rose. The sender left no hint of his identity, and though she and Madison tried to solve the mystery, Jade didn’t care. She wasn’t interested in discovering his identity.

  The notes breathed fresh air into her stale lungs with their kind words and encouragement. Then Beckett had shown up at her door, and she’d believed him to be her secret admirer. For one moment she’d surrendered to the idea of hope. But a humiliating hour later she’d learned the foolishness of that thought. He’d never wanted her, and she should’ve known better than to try again.

  Jade’s heart had already been shattered into a thousand pieces, and there was no putting it back together. Even if there were, Jade wasn’t interested. Loving Aaron had been like magic, but losing him had been a kind of hell she never wanted to experience again.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MRS. WEARLY SQUATTED NEXT TO THE PEDESTAL WITH HER pins. “Just a few nips and tucks, I think.”

  Jade looked at her reflection in the three-way mirror. The dress was the same shimmering silver as the others, but Madison had chosen a style that suited her personality without making her stand out. The neckline scooped modestly and the skirt flowed past her calves, flaring in an uneven hemline.

  “You look beautiful,” Madison said.

  PJ exited the fitting room, palming her chest. “Okay, I think my boobs shrank.”

  “Didn’t think that was possible,” Jade teased.

  PJ gave her a mock scowl. “Want some help with those pins, Mrs. Wearly?” she asked with a syrup-sweet voice.

  “No thank you, dear.”

  “Give me a break, PJ,” Jade said. “You know you look like a model. Lucky for you, you’re too nice to hate.”

  Madison fussed with PJ’s halter neckline. “It really shows off your shoulders, don’t you think?”

  “This feel all right?” Mrs. Wearly asked Jade.

  The bodice hugged Jade’s waist. Already she looked a little bloated. Add another two weeks and—“Maybe a little looser. Room to breathe and all that.”

  Madison surveyed Jade’s reflection. “That color is gorgeous on you.”

  PJ wedged in between them, frowning. “Why’d she get all the curves?”

  “Poor PJ,” Jade said. “Those long legs must be such a pain.”

  “And eating all day, without gaining an ounce,” Madison said. “Dreadful.”

  “I don’t eat all day, I cook all day.” PJ was in culinary school in Indianapolis. The girl could make pastry like nobody’s business. If she ate it all, you sure couldn’t tell.

  “Are you bringing Brandon to the wedding?” Jade asked her.

  Madison snorted. “Brandon was two guys ago. Keep up.”

  “Was not,” PJ said.

  “Sorry, three guys.”

  PJ shot Madison a look. “I’m dating a guy named Josh now. He’s a Culinary Management major, and he’s very sweet.”

  Jade found that hard to believe. PJ seemed to be a loser-magnet, much to their mom’s dismay. Delinquents, slackers, punks, guys with girlfriends . . . if he was trouble, PJ found him.

  “Who’s your plus one, Jade?” Madison stepped back to make room for Mrs. Wearly and her pins.

  “Uh, not sure yet.” Maybe Daniel could set something up. She grimaced. A wedding for a first date? Then again, how better to root out the less serious guys?

  “Anyone you’re interested in?” PJ asked.

  “Not really.” She hoped Daniel came through. She wasn’t looking for roses and sweet nothings. She just needed reliable, mature, and compatible.

  “Maybe one of Beckett’s friends. I could ask him.”

  “That’s all right. I’ll figure something out. Are you getting nervous?”

  “Not nervous, just excited. Can’t wait to be Mrs. Beckett O’Reilly.”

  “How’s that, dear?” Mrs. Wearly leaned back.

  Jade’s eyes went to her reflection where her stomach curved ever so slightly. Feeling her sisters’ scrutiny, she crossed her arms over her stomach and stepped down from the pedestal.

  “Perfect. Your turn, PJ.”

  Later that evening Jade curled up on the sofa, trying to convince her stomach to hold its contents. After alterations the girls had headed to Cappy’s Pizzeria, and now they were settled in for a girls’ night.

  PJ shoved in the DVD, a political thriller, nudging Lulu aside. “Daniel said this was really good.”

  “Of course he’d say that.” Madison turned toward Jade. “He’s gearing up to run for the House next year, did he tell you?”

  “Really?”

  “He’s got a campaign manager and everything,” PJ said.

  Jade felt a prick of guilt. She’d been so caught up in her own problems, she’d hardly asked about him.

  An hour into the movie, she began losing track of the plot. Her stomach was twisting. PJ had fallen asleep on the sofa, her long hair fanned across the pillow. Too many late nights at college, Jade supposed.

  She took a sip of ginger ale and pulled her knees into her chest. Please, God. The only bathroom was right off the living room, within earshot.

  A moment later, accepting the inevitable, Jade slipped off the sofa.

  Madison didn’t tear her eyes from the screen. “Pause it?”

  “That’s okay.”

  Jade forced herself to shut the door, making her feel all kinds of claustrophobic. She flipped on the fan and lifted the toilet seat. As if permission was all it needed, her stomach emptied its contents. She tried to be quiet, but even with the noise of the movie, it would be a miracle if Madison didn’t hear.

  After another spasm, she sat back on her haunches, shaking. Sweat beaded on her brow. The walls closed in. She wanted to fling the door open.

  A tap sounded at the door. “Jade? You all right?”

  She closed her eyes. She could not tell Madison. Not till after the wedding. It was only two weeks away. Madison deserved to be the center of attention.

  “Fine.”

  “Can I come in?”

  Jade flushed the toilet, then stood on shaky legs. “Sure.”

  Madison frowned as she filled a Dixie cup and handed it to Jade. “You getting sick?”

  Jade rinsed out her mouth, and Madison put a hand to her forehead. “You don’t feel warm.”

  She didn’t want Madison worrying she’d catch something just in time for her wedding. “Probably something I ate. I feel okay now.”

  “I warned you about the salad bar.”

  Cappy’s Pizzeria was known for its superb pizza and hangout atmosphere, not its sterile environment. “Guess you were right.”

  They finished the movie, but Jade’s heart wasn’t in it. How was she going to keep her pregnancy secret another two weeks with her stomach constantly rebelling?

  CHAPTER SIX

  JADE WRAPPED THE BROWN APRON AROUND HER WAIST AND turned to wait on a customer. Coachlight Coffeehouse wasn’t her first choice, but for the time being, it was her only one. She’d applied for the hospital position, but it had been given to someone else.

  The wedding was a week away, and Madison had begun moving into Beckett’s house. Jade hadn’t a hope of affording Madison’s rental on coffee shop wages, and her bank account was emptying fast. Health insurance was expensive, and she’d given her last Chicago paycheck to Izzy, worried her friend wouldn’t make rent with Jade’s sudden departure.

  So much for moving up in the world, Jade McKinley. She filled orders like she’d never left the place, inhaling through her mouth because the smell of espresso turned her stomach. The shop bustled in the early morning hours, making time pass quick
ly.

  “Take a break, Jade?” Sidney said when the morning rush ended.

  “Sure.” She grabbed the baggie of crackers from her purse and a bottled ginger ale. She’d skipped breakfast, not wanting to get sick her first day on the job. Later in the morning, she’d found, she could handle saltines—usually.

  On her way to the break room, she spied Daniel at a table in the corner. Guess he still used the place as his office sometimes.

  She removed her apron and sat in the chair across from him. “Didn’t see you come in.”

  He looked up from his laptop, his blue eyes softening. “You got a job.”

  She made a face and lowered her voice. “Not exactly the one I wanted.”

  “You want me to keep looking?”

  “Oh, yeah. At this rate I’m going to be living in a cardboard box.” She bit into a cracker.

  “Something tells me there are a few McKinleys who’d have something to say about that.”

  “I should’ve gone to college like Mom and Dad said.”

  “Thought about teaching guitar again? You could call your former students, put up a few flyers around town.”

  “I need a steady income and benefits. I need a career, which is where the degree would’ve come in handy.”

  “It’s not too late.”

  With no money for tuition, no place to live, and a baby on the way, um, yeah, it kind of was. “Any job leads? Please say yes.”

  “A couple actually. I stopped by the Burger Barn last night. The owner’s an old classmate of mine. He’s losing his manager at the end of the week. I told him you were looking.”

  He told her the salary, way more than she was making now. But burgers. Just the thought of the last one she’d eaten made the crackers gel in her stomach. The smell of greasy fries and grilling burgers . . . not happening.

  “I don’t think that’s going to work. What about the other one?”

  “Chestnut Farms. They’re expanding and looking for extra help.”

  “Doing . . . ?”

  “Horseback trails with tourists, grooming the horses, stable help, basically. The pay’s not great, but probably better than here.”

  She looked down at the half-eaten cracker. She loved animals, but working with horses couldn’t be safe for the baby. What if she fell off or got kicked in the stomach? She’d never forgive herself.

  “No?”

  She shook her head.

  His lips twitched, and he took a sip of coffee.

  “What?”

  He sat back in his chair. “I was thinking of the last time I saw you on a horse.”

  “Seventh grade. My first annual youth retreat.” Remembering, she pursed her lips. “That horse had a malfunction, I’m telling you.”

  “Sure it wasn’t the rider?”

  “They gave me the oldest horse in the stable. I swear he was hard of hearing. And lame. And stubborn.”

  “Good times, good times.”

  She shot him a look.

  “Fond memories there. Remember the blob?”

  It was a huge inflatable in the lake. They used to jump onto it and send people flying off the other end. “It’s a wonder we didn’t break our necks.”

  “That’s where I finally got serious about my faith,” he said.

  “On the blob?”

  “Funny.”

  She took a sip of her ginger ale. “Me too. That camp was a special place.” Their spiritual journeys had begun simultaneously. How had they wound up in such different places?

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll find something.”

  “I know it seems like I’m being picky.”

  “No, you have to live with it. We’ll find something more suited for you.”

  “Speaking of suited for you, I hear you’re gearing up to run for Congress next year.”

  He nodded slowly. “That’s the plan.”

  “Exciting stuff. You have to raise funds and all that?”

  “Lots of funds. It’s a little daunting, but my dad hooked me up with a savvy manager.”

  “Well, you can count on me for support—not the financial kind, though, unfortunately.”

  “Be careful what you volunteer for. I’ll have you stuffing envelopes and going door-to-door.”

  Jade shrugged. “What else do I have to do?” She sipped her pop, her mind drifting to her dateless status and Madison’s upcoming wedding. “So what about our little blind-date project? Sorry, I’m totally interrupting your work.”

  He gestured at the stack of papers. “The historical society. I should get down on my knees and thank you.”

  “A simple date would suffice.”

  He tweaked a brow.

  “You know what I mean. Have you talked to any of those guys yet?”

  “Sure.” Daniel closed his laptop and set it on the forms.

  She finished her cracker and zipped the baggie. She was still hungry, but she wasn’t pushing her luck.

  He picked up a pen and clicked it repeatedly.

  “Daniel?”

  He pursed his lips, looking down at his hands. They were large and masculine with long fingers tapering down to squared tips. His cuffs were rolled up on his forearms.

  “His name is James Geiger. You know him?”

  She shook her head.

  “He teaches fourth-grade science.”

  A teacher. “Summers off, kid-friendly. Sounds promising.”

  “He’s unattached and interested. I showed him your picture.”

  “What picture?”

  “The one on my phone. It’s old, but you’ve aged well.”

  She gave him a mock scowl. “What about his picture? Don’t I get to see him?”

  “I couldn’t exactly ask for a photo, Jade.”

  “Well, what’s he look like?”

  Daniel rubbed his neck. “I don’t know, average height and build, brown hair . . .”

  “That’s helpful.”

  “Well, he’s not sprouting warts or anything. He looks”—Daniel lifted a shoulder—“like a science teacher.”

  “Oh. Well, doesn’t matter. I’m sure he’s very nice. And he fits the criteria?”

  “To a T.”

  “So what’s next?”

  “I’ll give him your number?”

  “Perfect.” Maybe he’d be her wedding date.

  A line had started forming at the register, and her coworker was looking frazzled. Jade checked her watch, surprised ten minutes had passed. “I have to get back to work.”

  “Thanks for the break. I’m sure James will be in touch.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  JADE’S FEET WERE KILLING HER. SHE SWAYED WITH JAMES TO “Anything But Mine.” Across the floor, Madison and Beckett danced, eyes only for each other. Beckett set his forehead against Madison’s and said something for her ears only. Madison reached up, kissing him softly.

  The wedding had been beautiful, an intimate affair at church, with written vows and personal anecdotes. Madison looked perfect in a simple satin gown that hugged her waist and flared to the floor. After a million wedding party photos, they’d joined the guests at the town hall, which had been transformed into a romantic wonderland of white twinkling lights, draped tulle, and elegant flower arrangements.

  Jade tugged at the waistline of her dress. She’d filled it out in the two weeks since alterations. Thank God she’d had Mrs. Wearly leave room. Even so, she’d been worried her family would notice her thickened waistline.

  And when she was showing, what then? Who’d want to date her when she was pregnant with another man’s baby? Much less marry her. She shrugged the thought away. She was not going to think about that now.

  She looked up into James’s eyes. “I hope you didn’t mind doing the wedding thing,” she said.

  “Not at all. It’s the event of the year.” He had a nice smile and eyes that crinkled when he laughed.

  “What are you doing with your summer now that school’s out?”

  “I’m taking a couple co
urses—working on my master’s. I also do some freelance writing for scientific journals.”

  Smart, ambitious, and industrious. Not on the list, but all good.

  “What about you?” he asked. “You just moved back to town?”

  “I was in Chicago for a year with a friend from high school. I worked at a café and played guitar at a coffee shop on weekends.”

  “You must’ve missed your family. I love to travel, but I’m always glad to come back home. There’s just something about this place.”

  “I know what you mean. What got you interested in science?”

  “My parents bought me a telescope for my thirteenth birthday. We’d take it out in the yard in the summer, sit under the stars. They taught me all the constellations.”

  She liked the way his voice warmed when he spoke of his parents. “You’re close to your family.”

  “I’m an only child, so yeah, we’re close. My mom stayed home, and my dad taught literature at the high school.”

  She connected the dots. “Mr. Geiger—I had him my junior year. He was tough!”

  James smiled. “Don’t take it out on me.”

  “He gave me a D in his class because I was one day late with my final essay.”

  “Sorry . . . ?”

  He did another turn, leading her smoothly to a less crowded spot of the floor. The motion unsettled her stomach. Or maybe it was the food she’d eaten. She’d gone all day without eating, panicked she’d have to hurl in the middle of the ceremony. By the time they’d reached the reception, she was starving. Now she was starting to think that second helping of scalloped potatoes had been a bad idea.

  “You have a great voice,” James said. “I hadn’t heard the song before.”

  She’d been working on it since Madison had asked her to sing at the wedding. “That’s probably because I wrote it.”

  He backed away, meeting her gaze. “No kidding. You’re very good.”

  “Thanks.”

  She tried to focus on his words, but her stomach twisted. It wouldn’t be long now. With Madison being so busy with moving and wedding details, Jade had managed to hide her morning sickness. Morning sickness? Who was she kidding?

  Where could she go? The bathroom was probably filled with guests, and it was so small. She could already feel the walls pressing in, making her even more shaky and panicked.