Serious Moonlight(82)

Maybe I needed to fix the problem I’d caused.

? ? ?

The next afternoon I took an early ferry into the city and hopped on a bus that stopped a bit beyond the International District. I’d never been out this way, and it took some time for me to get my bearings. But when I spotted the black-and-red single-story building across the street, I recognized it from its online photos. Salsa Dance Studio.

Nothing of note happened between me and Daniel after our shift last night. The Moonlight was surprisingly packed, and our normal booth was taken, so we ended up sitting at the counter, and that wasn’t the ideal spot for intimate conversation. I didn’t mind all that much. I was just glad to sit next to him and feel his shoulder against mine. We shared a slice of the Pie of the Day: LIVIN’ ON A PEAR, featuring spiced Anjou pears under an angelic cloud of streusel topping. It was so spectacular, I wasn’t even depressed when we talked about the Raymond Darke case and how neither of us could figure out any new angles to pursue. It was just one of a dozen things that wasn’t going smoothly this week. The only thing that was okay—miraculously—was my relationship with Daniel.

And I needed to make sure it stayed that way. Which was why I was doing this right now as I fought down the overwhelming urge to turn on my heel and run in the opposite direction.

She’s only an overprotective mama bear. You can do this.

As traffic sped by on Jackson, I warily entered the dance studio. An unoccupied reception area divided the entrance from a warehouse-like dance space. Polished wooden floors and brick walls surrounded a handful of sweaty people who were laughing as they headed toward the doors in a herd, probably after they’d finished their bachata dance lesson—that’s what had just ended. The studio’s dance classes were listed online, as well as the instructors; Cherry Aoki was easy to find.

And easy to spot, striding across the dance floor in loose, dandelion-yellow dance pants and a sleeveless T-shirt that read SHAKE IT! But when she spotted me in return, my mouth went dry, and I almost lost my nerve. What if this was a huge, GD mistake?

I could tell she thought I was some schlub off the street, wanting to sign up for dance classes, or maybe a one-on-one instruction to prepare me for a prom or a wedding. The moment she recognized me, I knew it, because her high ponytail stopped swinging.

“Birdie? Is something wrong with Daniel?”

Too late to run now.

“No, not at all! I’m sorry. I looked you up online. Daniel doesn’t know I’m here.”

“Oh, thank God. Whew!” she said, holding her hand over her heart. Then her eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”

“I just . . . wanted to talk. If you’re busy—”

“I’ve got a few minutes before my next class.” She gestured toward a corner of the dance floor. “Over here.”

I followed her to a waiting area with a couch and two chairs. She took a seat, wiping her cheek on a towel around her neck. “What’s on your mind?” She wasn’t cordial, but she wasn’t icy cold, either, and that made it easier for me to talk.

“I just wanted to apologize for upsetting you,” I said.

She was silent for an impossibly long time. Then she said, “I appreciate that.”

“I didn’t have any intention of spending the night with Daniel. It just happened. I don’t know what the protocol on this kind of stuff is.” Or why my hands didn’t seem to know what to do when I was nervous; I hoped she didn’t notice.

She flicked a look at me, curious but wary. “Daniel said you met downtown.”

“At the Moonlight Diner,” I said. My nerves were jangling, and I was hoping I wasn’t giving away anything about that first day I met Daniel. “I was shocked to find out we worked together, and I guess he was too. We started talking more, and . . . I don’t know. I guess we’ve been confused about our relationship. But nothing happened that night I stayed with him.”

She stared at me. “I can’t figure you out.”

“You aren’t the only one,” I said, scratching my neck. “I have no idea what I’m doing. Not with Daniel or anything else in my life, if you want to know the truth.”

Something in her posture softened. “It never gets easier, just so you know. I’ve been floating from one thing to the next all my life. The only thing that’s changed is that I gave up trying to make sense of things.”

“I’d definitely like to stop trying. It’s exhausting.”

“It truly is.” She sighed heavily and reclined against the couch.

“You asked me what I’m doing with your son, and I couldn’t give you an answer. I’ve never . . . been in a relationship before. My grandmother—well, I guess because my mother got pregnant at seventeen—she had strong feelings about who I could see. Mostly who I couldn’t see, which was everyone. And now I’m just trying to figure it all out as I go. I don’t want to screw things up, and I’m sorry if you thought I disrespected you or your rules. That’s the last thing I want. I . . . guess I don’t know what I want, honestly. I didn’t realize relationships could be so complicated.”

A long moment stretched between us. Then Cherry said, “Has Daniel told you how I met his father?”

“Not really,” I said. “Only that he didn’t stick around.”