Hooked 2 (Hooked #2)(13)

I looked from Mel to Drew and back. “Nephew?” I asked. Drew was clearly many years older than Mel. I knew he was thirty-three, and Mel was only twenty-eight.

But Mel just waved her hand in the air. “You know. My mother had me like—what? Twenty-two years after she had your dad, my brother?” She turned back toward me. “Anyway. My brother had already had this little guy over here by the time I was born. We grew up together, him and me.”

“I went to see you perform so many times at Loyola. You were the perfect prima ballerina. I can’t believe this.” Drew was shaking his head, peering down at the small baby in his arms. “What a wonderful thing. I heard you were a dance instructor these days, keeping the dance in the family?”

And because Mel hadn’t been trained, because she didn’t know, she casually spouted these words, giving away my entire cultivation; “Oh, yes. I’m just Molly’s assistant at Molly Says Dance. You know, she’s a marvelous dancer.”

Drew’s eyes were suddenly on me. He looked at me earnestly, still bobbing the baby. “I see. I didn’t know you were a dancer.”

I nodded, feeling naked. I swallowed slowly.

But it didn’t seem to matter. Not then. This was suddenly a family gathering. Hank rushed us into the dining room, where he had set out a giant platter of spinach lasagna. He picked Jackson up out of Drew’s arms and swept him to the back nursery.


“He’s getting so big,” Drew offered to Mel. I felt strange, thinking I should have said these words to her, instead.

“Oh, gosh. It’s going too fast. But now that I don’t have work these days, I’ve been able to catch every little thing he does. He actually tried to crawl the other day, can you believe it?”

We all sat down at the table. Hank and Mel sat on opposite sides of the table, and Drew and I also sat across from each other. Hank passed around the rolls, then the lasagna. The cheese swept from the platter to my plate easily. I looked toward Mel, feeling I should speak. “This looks delicious, Mel.”

Mel nodded. Her eyes were brimming. “I can’t believe this guy—this Drew fellow you told me about—is our Andrew! My nephew! Can you believe it?”

“There’s a lot I can’t believe,” I murmured, stabbing my fork into the lasagna before me.

“So. What brings you to Chicago?” Hank asked Drew.

“I’m opening a bookstore here. I’ll still own the New York ones, of course. But this new one is my next project. I wanted to come back to my hometown. Be with family. Like you folks.” Drew held his hands on his chest. “Molly. Can I pour you some wine?”

Something in my head was buzzing. I nodded. “Of course. I’d love some wine.”

“Molly doesn’t turn down wine. She’s a smart girl,” Mel said, winking at me. My face burned for a moment.

Drew walked around the table, pouring everyone glasses of wine. I watched as Hank’s chubby face grinned up at Drew, his relative. I felt so strange. The entire dinner was feeling like an out-of-body experience.

“So. Andrew. Mel was actually telling me just last week that you’ve been wrapped up in a bit of charity work these days?” Hank stabbed some cheese lasagna into his mouth and looked at Drew with beady eyes.

Drew cleared his throat. Charity work? I wondered. He hadn’t mentioned anything like this. Here, I had thought he was so typical, just trying to peg me into a notch on his belt before moving onto another lady, anyone else.

“Right. Well, in New York, I was very much involved in Habitat for Humanity, some homeless shelters. That sort of thing. In Chicago, I’ve been looking into that, as well. I want to do good things with my money.”

Mel nodded at him, completely soaking up everything he said. My heart was beating wildly in my chest.

“Also. I want to donate to the school systems here. This was where I grew up, you know. And I got a good education. But I think—I think the way the school system is now, it doesn’t give children a good chance to move up in the world. I actually sat down with the school board of Chicago this past week, and we worked out a payment structure—how much they need, all that.”

“I certainly feel a lot better about sending Jack to school here, knowing there are people out there looking out for him and his peers,” Hank said. Mel, on my other side, nodded her head. I noticed she was nearly in tears.

“Andrew. You were always so kind-hearted.”

“Well. Being kind-hearted only goes so far,” Drew murmured, placing his fork and knife down beside his plate. “Now, I have the good fortune to go with it.”

Mel turned toward me. I could read the expression in her eyes so clearly. She wanted me to ask Drew—in that moment!—if he would lend me money to help me buy back the dance studio. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

As if on cue, Drew asked us about it then; “So. How’s the dance studio? Are you guys in an off-season, now? Melanie, you said you weren’t working lately? And Molly—do you do that alongside the PR work?”

I sputtered for a moment before answering. I noted that Mel had busied herself with her lasagna, not wanting to answer. Drew’s eyes were unwavering, so assertive, so kind. “You know. Yes. The dance studio is just taking a hiatus right now. We had a—a show recently. And so. I’m giving the girls a break.”