I dig into the vibrating handbag that hangs off my shoulder, sundress matching, for my phone. “This is probably my man.”
Zoe swoons, “Your man!”
Samantha laughs at her, then loses the mirth as she watches me frown at my screen. “Who is it, Lex?”
I flip it around, and they stare at Brad’s photo, the one I took over a year ago, at least, when he and I went out for a morning coffee after one particularly grueling fight.
I mutter, “His timing is crazy,” and answer the phone with a sharp, “Your timing is crazy, Brad.”
“Maybe because I’m calling a crazy girl,” he returns with his old charm.
“Why are you calling me?”
“To see how you’re doing.”
“I haven’t heard from you—”
“—Did you want to hear from me?”
“—since I poured beer on your…pants.”
Had to keep it clean out of respect to our location and surrounding company.
“I asked if you wanted to hear from me.”
I blink down, eyes more glazed than this jelly donut. “No, after that night I never wanted to. Why are you calling me now?”
“Oh, uh, well, I…” Long pause. He didn’t expect such a cold reception. I wonder if it’s as cold as that ale? “Just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
Locking eyes with my loyal baby sister, I’m seeing all of the ways she covered for me during the horrific on-and-off games I played with this jerk. All of those times Max and Caden demanded answers about him, since instinct told them he wasn’t good for me. Finally, those things I told Gage fly through my mind again, about how all that chaos brought me The Local the night we met.
A smile spreads.
From inside my heart.
I am free.
Animosity gone.
Only one thing left.
Gratitude.
“You know what, Brad? I’m doing great. Really great. And I hope are, too. I hope you find someone to love you so that you’re happy every single day you draw a breath, that’s what I hope for you.”
Sam and Zoe stop chewing.
There’s silence also on the other end of the line, then Brad says, voice deepened by understanding, “But that won’t be with you.”
“We had an interesting run, but it ended, and I promise you it will never start up again.”
“You’ve met someone.”
“I have. And I really mean it when I say that I hope you do, too.”
Brad clears his throat. “Thank you, Lexi.” A few more seconds of silence. “I’m glad you’re happy.”
“Thank you. Goodbye.”
“Bye, Lexi.”
Closing the screen I inhale a long breath of clean, freed-from-bullshit air.
Samantha’s and Zoe’s faces brighten, smiles proud. We go back to chomping down the remainder of fried sugary goodness while chatting about any little old thing.
Donna, another of the parishioners, pauses by Sam on her way for another cup of coffee. She always gets two. “When do we get to see you dance in another show?”
“Nothing in the works right now.”
“What’re you doing in the meantime?”
“Waiting tables.”
“Let us know the next time you’re onstage. I always tell Mike,” Donna touches Sammy’s arm with affection, “that girl was born to be a dancer.” She leaves stillness as her wake.
Zoe and I watch Sam stare at a space a foot from her face.
Donna’s right.
While I only secretly dance by and for myself — or for Gage — my sister has a gift that should not only be exercised but shared. Restaurants are great money, shiftable hours, and you don’t watch the clock.
But…
But…
However…
Just like how Paige always says I need a job that plays to my strengths, Sammy needs one that plays to her gift.
Suddenly it dawns on me, and my heart races on the blurted, “Samantha, I have an idea.” Feeling jelly in the corner of my lip, I give it a quick wip.e “Why don’t you quit that restaurant, and I quit Om This, and together we start up a dance school for kids?”
Zoe gasps.
Sam stares at me. “Can we do that? Is that possible?”
Terrified she doesn’t like the idea, I hurriedly launch in, “I’ve been doing the books for Paige. I’m really good at it after all this time, and I was just thinking, what if I applied this business knowledge to running one of my own? I could be my own boss. But then I thought, what kind of business would I run? And nothing came. No answer. I’ve been sitting with this idea for a long time and then suddenly I saw it. You and me, little kids, dance, and nobody telling us what to do. It’s like going back in time only now we’re in charge!”
She startles people by screaming, “This is the best idea I’ve ever heard in my entire life!”
Zoe laughs, while hope makes me grin, “You really like it? You wouldn’t mind going into business with me?”
“Why would I mind?!”
Pretending it’s no big deal, I shrug, “You said I have big feelings…remember?”
“Caden said that.”
“Yes, and you said that I just don’t know where to put them sometimes. I know what you meant. The ups and downs I have are kind of extreme.”
She motions for us to follow her as she walks over to where the lady-whose-name-I-forget sells fried sweets and strong coffee. “I need a napkin.” Wiping cinnamon sugar off of her fingers, Samantha reassures me, “The second you said we could go into business together, all I thought was a big yes. A huge yes.”
Relieved, I grin, “It would be so fun. I know it’s a lot of work to start something from scratch, but they always say that if you love what you do, it’s not work!”
Zoe reminds me, “But you dropped out of dance,” with a confused tilt of her pretty head.
She’s right. I did, but, “I got out of dance because I didn’t see a career in it. And I didn’t like how competitive it was. Just like Sam.” I hurry to explain a little bit more blah-blah stuff, so I can get to the most important fact: “I love kids. It would be us running the show. Our show. Our studio. Oh my God, a
