I have to laugh at that. My five cousins are all in their late twenties, except Max, who’s thirty-two. It’s true none of them are anywhere close to settling down. Then again, I’m living proof that plans don’t always matter when life gets in the way.
“Oh, before I forget, remember that dance school I was telling you about? Well, it turns out the tiny tot class is at a perfect time for us. I’ve signed Violet up. I’ll take her on the days I’m looking after her, and maybe you can take her to a few.”
Dance class.
Serena.
Like a key fitting into a lock, everything slides into place. I’m willing to bet Serena is teaching at the dance school.
The question is, why? The last time I let myself check up on her was just a few years after she broke up with me. From what I could tell, she was going to a very prestigious dance school back east, and headed for stardom in the ballet world. So how did she end up teaching in a small town on the West Coast?
More importantly, can I bring myself to be in the same room with her when she dances again, even if it’s only as my daughter’s teacher? There’s a lot of intense memories tied up between us when it comes to Serena dancing.
But for my daughter, I’ll do anything.
My aunt is still talking and I tune back in just in time for her to say, “Anyway, that’s all I’ve got to tell you. How was your meeting with Mayor Monroe?”
“Oh, ah, it was fine. Good. I start tomorrow, four days on, four days off, rotating with the other deputy. Plus the occasional evening or night shift to get familiar with the town. Are you sure you don’t mind looking after Vi?”
Aunt Claire fixes me with a look. “Leo Talbot. I’ve told you; it is nothing but a pleasure to look after her whenever you need me.” She walks back over and pats my cheek. “And we’re also here to look after you. Okay? Come for dinner soon.”
I smile at the woman who, until they moved away, played the role of mom when mine was incapacitated with grief. “Thanks, Aunt Claire. We will.”
We say goodbye, and then it’s just the two of us.
“Okay, baby girl, dinnertime. You hungry? I am.” I carry Violet back into the kitchen and strap her into her seat before grabbing a few pieces of fruit to tide her over while I finish preparing her food. There’s no time to think about Serena or about her teaching my daughter’s dance class until Violet is in bed.
That’s when I can set free these emotions and memories that are banging down the gates of my conscious mind, trying to overwhelm me.
I have to be a father first.
I can be a brokenhearted man next.
Chapter three
Serena
If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck…it’s a duck. Right?
Which means that no matter how much my heart wants to deny the truth, Leo has clearly moved on. Not only that, but despite claiming he never wanted kids — the one thing we disagreed on as teenagers — he has a daughter he obviously adores.
I thought that seeing Leo holding a little girl so closely was my breaking point. I was so wrong. The distance between us that day and the fact he didn’t see me afforded my heart a tiny bit of protection. Protection that was completely shattered when I literally ran into him at the Stop N Shop. Seeing him up close, smelling that familiar scent — the cologne I gave him our second year together — that is what destroyed me.
I know my friends realize something’s going on. I’ve passed it off as just not feeling very well, but I haven’t been acting like myself the last couple of days. Not at all. I can feel my smile is more brittle, I don’t want to be around lots of people, especially not couples. Not when I’m trying desperately to figure out how I’m going to survive Leo living in town.
Today is the first tiny tot dance class since the open house. I didn’t sleep last night for wondering if Leo would bring his daughter, or if his aunt would, or if they would even come at all. Maybe now that he’s most likely figured out that it’s my dance school, Leo won’t sign her up.
Maybe hiswifewon’t let him sign her up.
I make my way downstairs to the studio early. Turning on the lights, opening the blinds, and setting up the music for the class is normally a routine I enjoy. It usually fills me with excitement about another day helping children discover a love of dance.
Not today.
Today I wish I really was sick so I could cancel the class and look for plane tickets far away from here. Instead, fate is against me and just as I’m twisting my long blonde hair up into a bun, the door opens. Of course, the first inside is Claire Donnelly.
“Good morning!” she says cheerfully, Leo’s little girl by her side. “We are so excited for dance class, aren’t we, Vi?” Claire looks down at the child and so do I. Leo’s green eyes blink up at me solemnly from the beautiful face of his daughter.
Pasting on my teacher smile, I crouch down. No matter my feelings about Leo, this little girl will only ever see sunny, happy Miss Serena, the dance teacher. “Hi there, my name is Miss Serena. What’s your name?”