Dance Away with Me(110)

This was who he was.

The punk and the artist. The insurgent and the peacemaker.

The man who’d been trying so hard to fit into a single identity that he’d run away from himself.

He loved what he’d created. Loved it so much that all he wanted to do was race outside with his cans of Krylon, his rollers, his lawlessness. Find a wall, scale a ladder, and turn his joy into a vision of something new and beautiful.

*

In the month since Ian had left, May had unfolded with all her showy lace and earthy perfume. As June approached, hepatica and trillium gave way to wild geranium and bleeding heart, while rhododendron, azalea, and mountain laurel spread their joy. Runaway Mountain had never been more beautiful, but Ian wasn’t here to share it.

Her almost three-month-old baby batted her hands and cooed at her feet. Tess swallowed the lump in her throat. “It’s only you and me, buttercup,” she whispered.

Wren, insensitive to Tess’s sadness, craned her neck to look around the schoolhouse kitchen. She’d done this so many times lately that Tess could swear she was looking for him. It was one thing for him to leave her, but how could he abandon Wren?

Because Tess had ordered him to leave.

The sound of hammering echoed from the backyard. She didn’t need to look through the window to know Paul Eldridge was outside. He’d raised the final wall in the tree house.

Paul kept showing up, even though Tess had told him it wasn’t necessary, but he was a proud man. Eli usually came with him, and the two of them worked side by side, Paul stopping occasionally to rumple Eli’s hair or help him with a stubborn nail.

She stroked one of Wren’s baby sideburns. Yesterday evening, she’d followed through on something that had been on her mind for weeks. She’d hosted the first gathering of a miscarriage support group here at the schoolhouse. Michelle had volunteered to put the group of eight together. Some of the women, like Michelle, had miscarried a decade ago; others had newer wounds. Rebecca wasn’t the only one who’d cried, but thanks to a combination of therapy and medication, they were healthy tears. The women had made plans to meet again, and, of all people, Rebecca had volunteered to host.

Today was Tess’s last day working for Phish. The paperwork was nearly complete, and tomorrow she would begin setting up her own practice. Thanks to Brad Winchester, she’d be working rent-free out of a room in the rec center. With the backing of the Knoxville physicians, she’d be able to offer prenatal and postnatal care, well-baby checkups, vaccinations, and reproductive counseling. She’d also be delivering babies.

Tess picked up Wren’s diaper bag. She had people to care for, a child to raise, and she couldn’t let this wrenching sadness get the best of her.

*

Word about her new practice had gotten out at the Broken Chimney, and the locals were already jumping the gun.

“Gimme some pills for my bursitis,” Mr. Felder demanded as she finished her last day behind the counter. “Damn fool doctor told me I had to get phys’cal therapy when all I need are some pills.”

Tess shoved his pie at him. “I’m only going to be practicing women’s reproductive health care.” She spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear, even though she knew this community well enough by now to suspect restricting her practice would never be that straightforward. “Do what your doctor tells you.”

“Women’s reproductive health? What the hell kind of bull is that?” Mr. Felder railed. “I’ll sue you for discrimination!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want that,” she replied with fake-concern. “Let’s compromise. As soon as you finish your physical therapy, I’ll be happy to prescribe additional medication. Or arsenic, depending on my mood.”

“Did y’all hear what she said?” Mr. Felder shouted. “That’s malpractice! She threatened to poison me!”

“Will you shut the heck—the hell up, Orland?” The Broken Chimney’s newest employee shook an ice cream scoop at him. It was difficult for Kelly Winchester to curse, but she’d been working hard at it. As she’d explained to Tess, “I need to figure out who I am, and the only way I can do that is by trying different things, even if they make me uncomfortable.”

This new, experimental Kelly was turning into a force to be reckoned with. For example, Ava’s ex-boyfriend, Connor Bowman, had disappeared. Kelly refused to tell Tess what she’d done. All Tess knew was that the boy had abruptly left town to finish what remained of his senior year in Nashville, where he’d be his grandmother’s problem.

With Tess quitting and neither Michelle nor Savannah back at work full-time, Phish was delighted to have Kelly on board. Brad, however, was not. Last week, when he’d heard the news, he’d barged into the cabin where Kelly was sharing a meal with Tess and Wren.

“It’s unthinkable!” he’d roared. “You’re the wife of a state senator! You don’t need to do this!”

“I’m pushing my boundaries,” Kelly had said calmly.

“How is working in a third-rate coffee shop pushing your boundaries?”

“Watch your language.” Tess felt duty bound to protest on behalf of the Broken Chimney.

Brad paced the cabin floor as he launched into one of his lectures about the importance of image, but Kelly wouldn’t back down. “I want to see what it’s like to have a real job. And the work schedule gives me plenty of time to study.”