Rosa stood in awe by the giant roller coaster and its yellow and blue sign that read, “The Sea Viper”. Her breath caught in her throat as the loud clack, clack, clack of the cars on the track reverberated through her whole body. She had always felt better when she was in control of a vehicle. Letting Gloria or her mother drive felt risky enough for her. The track wound around in snake-like fashion, and for a long moment, Rosa couldn’t pull her gaze away.
“There! Look!” Marjorie said in an excited whisper. “There’s Victor Boyd!”
Wearing a black T-shirt, stretched over what was now a paunch of a belly, and grubby jeans, Rosa immediately recognized the former bully. He still had most of his hair, though it looked like it hadn’t been trimmed in six months. As a carnie ride operator, he hadn’t exactly reached the height of an accomplished life.
Rosa wasn’t alone in thinking this. Nancy harrumphed and said, “Well, there you go. At least fate gave him what was coming.”
“Are you kidding me?” Marjorie asked, not trying to be quiet in the least. There was a good chance Victor could hear her. “After everything he did to you girls? He doesn’t deserve a job in our beautiful town.”
Joyce chimed in. “I agree!”
Gloria, still a few feet back, looked as though she was surveying the rest of the fair, and Rosa sensed she’d lost interest in Victor Boyd.
However, at the loud voices of their friends, Victor turned his head and stared straight at them. His attention was unnerving, and everyone stopped talking at once—like a drove of baaing sheep suddenly aware of a wolf in their midst.
His dark-eyed gaze locked onto Rosa and she couldn’t stop herself from offering a small wave. He didn’t wave back.
“Enough about him,” Nancy finally said. She flapped a hand at the roller coaster. “Let’s get back to dancing!”
3
Some of Rosa’s fondest childhood memories were of her parents dancing. Basil and Ginger Reed were renowned for their fancy footwork on the dance floor, whether it was the waltz, a Latin tango, or old-time Charleston. So, it wasn’t surprising that Rosa had a fondness for music and dancing herself. Watching these young people back at the bandstand dancing the boogie-woogie and the jitterbug had Rosa’s feet tapping and her heart smiling.
Nancy, Marjorie, Joyce, and Gloria had all once again taken quickly to the dance floor with partners. Though Rosa would’ve loved to dance, she wasn’t prepared to do so with a stranger, especially so soon after breaking off an engagement. But even if she had been ready to dance with someone new, there was no way on God’s green earth she would stumble about under the spotlights with Miguel on stage and watching.
Diego earned his weight in gold, as time after time she produced him as an excuse to say no to a disappointed young man, most of whom found patting her kitten’s soft head strangely reconciliatory.
Miguel moved around the stage fluidly and looked more like the youthful and spirited soldier Rosa knew in the mid-forties than the police detective with whom she had recently become reacquainted. Despite her best efforts, Rosa couldn’t stop watching him on stage.
And Miguel watched her too.
Rosa quickly averted her eyes. How embarrassing to be caught staring!
What she and Miguel had once shared was lost with the past, and so much had happened since then, even more than her near marriage to Winston.
Rosa shook her head. She didn’t want to think about Lord Winston Eveleigh—to think of her former fiancé was to think about his sister. Vivien Eveleigh had been Rosa’s closest friend in London, and her murder, still unsolved, had shattered Rosa’s heart.
Pauline was the only one of the former school friends who, like Rosa, stayed off the dance floor, though in Pauline’s case, sadly, it was because no one had asked her. If only ladies could dance together, Rosa herself would have asked Pauline to dance.
“Are you having fun?” Rosa asked, attempting to draw the shy girl out.
“Oh, sure,” Pauline said, then looked away as if frightened Rosa might ask her another question.
Impulsively, Rosa held out her kitten. “This is Diego.”
On cue, Diego let out a sweet little “mew” to greet Pauline. Diego didn’t seem to react to the loud music and carnival noises. Her kitten seemed up for anything.
Pauline reached over to scratch Diego under the chin, and he held his head back as if asking for more.
“Would you like to hold him?” Rosa asked.
Pauline’s eyes warmed, and Rosa had the feeling the girl preferred her friends to have fur on them. After placing Diego into Pauline’s hands, Rosa continued to scratch the soft hair around his neck.
“Aren’t you a sweety-pie,” Pauline cooed as though the kitten was the one needing reassurance.
Rosa could picture Pauline at home with several cats. Perhaps that was where she did most of her talking.
In silent agreement, Rosa and Pauline sat on a nearby bench as the band broke into another song, and the dancers did the cha-cha. This dance was a favorite of Rosa’s, and her toes tapped along. Diego, not nearly as caught up in the band or the music, kneaded his tiny paws on Pauline’s lap.
Nancy danced with Eddie, who Rosa uncharitably thought had two left feet. Despite their clumsy turn about the dance floor, they were both laughing and looked to be having fun. Marjorie danced with a sturdy-looking guy with blond hair and a skinny mustache, so it appeared that Henry Van Peridon wasn’t her only choice. Joyce and a very tall man with a bowling-style shirt left the floor to get drinks from the vendor on the other side of the room. The way he gazed with affection at Joyce made Rosa think this wasn’t their first dance together.
Gloria and her dance partner, a handsome Asian man, drew a round of applause from
