The Do-Over(68)

Giving her a big hug at the end of the song, he then took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. Then with the Wes smile, I could see his lips form the words, “Thank you, Princess.”

Scarlett floated back to the table just as the main course was being served.

“That was so great. Shut Up and Dance was our song at the father/daughter dance.” She was beaming.

“It looked like you two had fun.”

With a little smile, she said, “Well, maybe for the first dance. I’m not so sure he had much fun during the second song.”

“Why do you say that?” They were now playing soft jazz music while we ate.

“‘Cause I think I kinda like literally blew his mind, Mom,” She paused. “He was asking about you and I told him the truth.”

My fork was suspended mid-air, halfway to my mouth. Oh God.

“Oh shit,” Laynie muttered. “What truth?”

“He asked how you were and I told him that you were sad. He also wanted to know if you were seeing anyone and I said, ‘Bro, you like literally broke her heart, of course she’s not seeing anyone.’ And he was like really, I didn’t want to hurt your mom and I told him, ‘Well, you did. She really cares about you.’ He needed to know, Mom.”

“How naked do you feel?” Laynie laughed.

Putting down my fork and picking up my wineglass, I twirled it for a moment, looking at the color of the claret liquid through the light, before taking a hearty sip. “Very. Like I’m having the naked dream and trying to pretend I look normal. Please tell me I look good.”

“You look fabulous,” Jonathan interjected.

I laughed, “Thank you, because I know if I looked like shit, you would tell me. That is precisely why every straight woman on this planet needs gay male BFFs.” Leaning over, I kissed his cheek.

“Are you mad at me, Mom?”

Shaking my head no, I smiled at Scarlett. “No sweetie, not at all. The truth is the truth. And here’s a saying from my day that applies, put that in your pipe and smoke it, Wes.”

Laynie and Jill cracked up and my daughter looked at me like, what the heck are you talking about?

After the waiters cleared our entrée plates, the lights dimmed again and another one of our PSAs played.

“I love this one,” Jonathan whispered in my ear.

“Me too,” I whispered back.

When the lights came back up, a very prominent local news anchor was standing behind the podium. She had never hidden her battle with breast cancer and brought her viewers with her throughout the journey. All of New York attended her doctors’ appointments, her diagnostic tests and her surgeries. We cheered at the good news and cried with her on discouraging days.

The room was on its feet, cheering. Not just because she was still with us, a valiant warrior who battled her way into remission, but because she led us all into battle with the heart of a General. She educated us, pulled us along when we didn’t want to go any further, and taught us to humbly accept the wins, and cope with the losses with grace.

Sitting back and listening to her wise words as I gently stroked my daughter’s hair , I was so glad that Scarlett was getting to experience the power of strong women, who like Jill and Stacy, had fought back with every last ounce of courage and strength when the odds were stacked against them. My heart pinged, wishing Stacy were here to be a part of this event – as a survivor. As that thought filled my head, a pink glint from the chandelier above flashed before my eyes and I knew Stacy Bergman had just told me that she was sure as hell not missing out on this event.

At the end of the newscaster’s speech, the room was once again on its feet for a standing ovation and throngs of attendees headed toward the donation tables. Once again, the dance floor filled. A few measures into the song, I realized it was Spandau Ballet’s True, the last song Wes and I had danced to on Second Wind’s deck that night after dancing on the neighboring boat and my heart cracked just a little more.

“May I have this dance?” Wes was standing next to my chair.

“Umm, I don’t think,” I began.

Leaning over Scarlett and practically pushing me out of my chair, Laynie took over. “Of course she will.”

Stumbling, Wes took my hand to steady me, and with his other hand on my lower back, led me to the dance floor.

Once in his arms, I could feel the increasing tension in my muscles causing them to twitch at his touch.

“Hey relax,” he whispered in my ear.

Looking up to face him, “Easier said than done.”

“I don’t like that I make you tense.”

I didn’t answer him and he continued. “I don’t know where to begin to apologize, Tara. I’m just sorry that I hurt you and made you sad.”

With my eyes locked on his, “I thought we had something special, Wes. I thought we were the real thing.”

As the song ended, I went to move from his arms, but he embraced me tighter. The first strains of Roxy Music’s version of the John Lennon classic, Jealous Guy, began to play.

Smiling down at me, Wes said, “This could be my theme song.”

“Jealous Guy?”

He nodded.

“Please tell me you are not jealous of what happened between me and Julien.”

Wes just raised his eyebrows and tilted his head.