Dance Away with Me(100)

“Well . . .” Ava looked embarrassed. “I kind of want to be a lawyer.”

Kelly laughed, which made Ava defensive. “So I’m better prepared to go into politics. I think more women need to be in government, don’t you?”

“Definitely,” Tess said.

Ava pulled her legs out from under her. “Mom, I remember the things Dad told you whenever you talked about going back to school.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“He said it was a stupid idea. He said you weren’t a good enough student in high school to go to college.”

“I never studied. It’s why I’m so strict about you doing your homework.”

“You’re a lot better in math than I am.” Ava looked at Tess. “Dad told Mom she didn’t need another degree because she already had her M.R.S. Isn’t that like something old people used to say back in like the sixties or something?”

“Don’t look at me,” Tess said. “I wasn’t born then.”

Ava set aside what was left of her third cookie and studied her socks. “Dad pulled me out of last period algebra today.”

Kelly frowned. “He shouldn’t have done that.”

“It was okay. We sat in his car and talked. Or I guess he talked. He said he’s sorry and that he wants things to be different between us.” She rubbed the toe of her socks against the rug. “He said I can tell him anything, and he won’t get mad at me. Like I’d really do that.” She twisted a lock of her hair. “I think he thinks I didn’t like have sex, and I didn’t tell him I did. But . . . He didn’t look good, Mom. I’m so mad at him, but I kind of feel sorry for him, too.”

“Your father is a grown man. You’re not responsible for him.”

“I know that, but . . . I told him I was sorry I’d disappointed him. I tried not to cry, but I cried a little, and do you know what he said? He said I could never disappoint him in a million years. He told me I was perfect.”

Kelly smiled. “You’re not. But I love that he thinks so.”

“He asked me to come back home tonight.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him I’d give it due consideration.”

Kelly laughed. “Did you really say that? ‘Due consideration’?”

Ava nodded. “He also tried to tell me some things he wanted me to tell you, but I told him I wouldn’t do that. He had to talk to you himself.”

“Good girl.”

“So what I’m thinking is . . . While you figure out what you’re going to do, I might sometimes stay here with you and sometimes stay with him. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is. Your father loves you, and you love him. Nothing will ever change that.”

Ava left not long after, kissing her mother and refusing to take any cookies home to her father.

Tess needed to tell Kelly she’d be staying at the cabin instead of the schoolhouse. She could lie, say she didn’t want to distract Ian from his work, but Kelly had been honest with her, and she deserved honesty in return. She cuddled Wren and told her the truth. Or most of it, anyway. She didn’t tell her how deeply she’d fallen in love with Ian, and she definitely didn’t mention their astonishing sex life. When she finished, Kelly regarded her sympathetically. “Well, aren’t we a pair?”

“That we are.”

With both Michelle and Savannah on leave, Tess had promised Phish she’d work that night. As she went upstairs to get ready, Kelly asked her about Wren.

“I’m taking her to Heather’s.”

“Why don’t you leave her with me? I’d love to watch her.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Kelly smiled fondly at Tess’s sleeping daughter. “It’ll be like the old days.”

*

Tess received a hero’s welcome at the Broken Chimney. It was as though she’d never been the town pariah. Everyone wanted to hear about last night, and she had her hands full talking and filling orders at the same time. Two hours elapsed before she realized she’d left her phone in her car. If Kelly had an emergency, she couldn’t reach her.

She abandoned a half-made salted-caramel hot chocolate and raced out the back door.

The rain had stopped, but the security light spread a rancid yellow phosphorescence across the alley. A shadow moved behind her car. A shadow that shouldn’t have been there.

Tess took a quick step to the side and saw Courtney Hoover. Her hand was frozen in midair—a hand that held a tube of lipstick. Smeared across the rear window of Tess’s SUV were seven letters and part of the eighth:

MURDEREI



Tess charged forward. “You’re the one!” she exclaimed.

Hostility radiated from Courtney like toxic waste. “Everybody in there is kissing your fat ass!”

Tess grabbed the lipstick from her. “I wouldn’t call it fat. I’d call it ample.”

Courtney wailed like a petulant kindergartner. “I work out every day. It’s not fair!”

“My ass?”

“Artie! It’s your fault that we broke up!”

“Artie?”

“We were doing fine until you showed up.”