Nick pulled into a slot and glanced over at me. “We never had a place like this to visit when we were kids.”
“You’d have been mortified.” He didn’t dance. Not ever.
Nick grinned. “And your mother would’ve tracked you here and taken you home.”
“She did so dearly love her curfews.” Mom probably thought I’d honor my old curfew even now. “I didn’t have dinner. Can we get a salad here?” Dancing had re-awakened my inner responsibility toward weight maintenance.
“No. You’ll have a burger, Al, even if you don’t have it with a bun or cheese.” Nick put his hand on the door handle. “Are you in? I’ve got a couple quarters to put in the jukebox if we don’t like the music the youngsters are playing.”
I flexed my right foot. It didn’t pang, which was good. There was something thrilling about being here with Nick. And it wasn’t like I was going to do anything more than the Carlton or a mom dance. “Okay.”
We got out and approached the outdoor dance floor. Surprisingly, it wasn’t just teens dancing. There was a couple our age slurping milkshakes while they casually bopped around. I didn’t feel like such an elderly trespasser.
The fast song ended. A slow song began.
My eyes widened as I looked at Nick. My heart pounded at the idea of him holding me.
“Don’t get cold feet on me now.” Nick took my hand and gently brought me into his arms in a traditional dance pose – one hand on my waist, the other clasping mine and held slightly away from our bodies. “I’ve been waiting a long time to show off my investment in dance lessons.”
He proceeded to simply sway side-to-side, which made me giggle. “I thought you were going to do the méringue or the cha cha.”
He tsked. “I’m trying to go easy on your foot.”
“Not step on it, you mean.” I pulled him into a circular turn, pivoting from one foot to the other a few times so that we spun in a tight circle.
“Hey, I’m supposed to lead.” It was a token protest. Nick was smiling.
“Yeah, but you weren’t leading.” I kept on teasing because his smile made me feel warm from head to toe.
With a low growl, Nick moved into a waltz, head high, gaze trained on a point far away.
“Who taught you how to dance?” He wasn’t ready for Broadway, but he wasn’t bad.
“Shhh. I’m counting.”
I laughed. And that was the thing about being with my friend Nick.
He made me laugh.
If only he didn’t make me want.
ChapterFive
“Where have you been?”Mom came out of her recliner the moment I walked through the front door. She was wearing a pink chenille bathrobe and fuzzy knit slippers. Her short hair was mussed and with only the glow of the multi-colored Christmas tree lights, her face had an eerie tinge to it. “It’s long past the hour the dance studio closed.”
I took my time removing my coat, weighing my options. Honesty seemed the best bet. “I went to Halloran’s after dance class.”
“To eat fast food?” Mom sounded shocked. She cinched the ties of her long, pink bathrobe.
“No. To dance.” I faced her, holding onto the lighthearted feeling the evening had given me. “I haven’t danced just for myself in a long, long time. It was fun.”
That seemed to mollify her. At least, until Mom got her second wind. “Did you touch base with your agent today? I didn’t see you post a dance video on social media. Instead, you posted holiday cards for the Sleigh Café. What good does that do your career?”
A heavy weight settled on my shoulders, trying to sink the buoyant happiness the day had given me. “Mom, I – ”
“Allison.” So much disappointment. It pinched Mom’s expression and constricted her words. “Every day lost could be the day that would have taken your career to the next level.”
“My agent said he’d let me know if anything came up,” I told her, bending to remove my boots. “And I told you that I have nothing new to post, dance-wise. Unless you think me teaching tap class would land me a job somewhere.”