Thick & Thin (Thin Love, #3)
Eden Butler
Preface
Winnie Mayeaux was not impressed. Every month, without any fussing on her behalf, that woman, Aly King, expected Winnie and her husband, Kyle, to fork over two hundred-fifty bucks to keep their fifteen-year-old daughter, Clara, in dance classes. This was no hobby, not for Clara, not if Winnie had any say in it, and, of course, she did. That cost covered not only classes but extra lessons with Ms. King, as well, which guaranteed that Clara, no matter how much she bitched, would work hard to keep her spot on King’s competition team. They’d landed state titles two years running and Winnie was sure that would give Clara a leg up when she auditioned for LSU’s Golden Girls her senior year.
What Winnie and her husband hadn’t paid for was the spectacle they’d endured during the fall recital. Clara had performed, naturally, with the expertise that came from perpetual practice—all of it at Winnie’s behest. The girl had performed in four numbers, three of which she was featured dancer. But, Winnie guessed, as she moved uncomfortably in the plush seat, front center, front row in the large auditorium, Aly King didn’t give one fig about Clara or any of her dancers as long as she got paid. Well. Maybe the little Hawaiian girl. That child got special treatment because the girl’s parents, Keira and Kona Riley-Hale, were friendly with King; she was even some kind of glorified babysitter for them, if what Winnie had heard was true. And, it seemed it was true, since the ten-year-old had gotten her own feature performance with a row of grass skirt-wearing, lei-donning dancers.
Ah. There she was, accepting accolades and flowers at the end of the show. The illustrious Aly King. Winnie guessed she was pretty enough—tawny, smooth skin that kept you guessing who her people had been, and bright green eyes, but her hair was a disaster, a mix of wild, out of control light brown ringlets that frizzed too much if she didn’t mind it—sometimes, Winnie thought, the woman didn’t mind her hair at all—with interspersing of dull blonde streaks, supposedly natural. Her butt, though, was simply just too round. Even for a dancer.
Somehow Aly had managed, for a time, to snag Ransom Riley-Hale, Kona and Kiera’s oldest son. Couldn’t keep him though, not from what Winnie had heard from the other dance moms. College sweethearts never last, really, especially not ones that are so different. Ransom had celebrity parents but Aly King had no family to speak of; a dead mother and a father from Tremé who’d let Aly run off at seventeen. And it’s not like professional football players like the Riley-Hale boy didn’t have loads of women throwing themselves at him; poor woman just couldn’t keep up. Sad really, Winnie supposed if she gave a single thought to King outside of the payments she expected and news related to her daughter’s lessons.
The stage had calmed considerably, the students backing away, letting Aly stand in front of the microphone, waving the crowd to silence. But suddenly Winnie’s husband sat up straighter in his chair, more engaged now than he had been during the entire recital.
“What the hell is Ethan Willis doing up there?” Kyle exclaimed as he moved in his seat, stretching his neck to see better as he realized his law office golfing buddy was walking up on stage to stand next to Aly.
“Didn’t you say he’d been seeing her?” Winnie didn’t need her husband telling her gossip she already knew, but he was such a simple creature, weren’t they all, poor things? She liked to let him imagine she gave a solitary shit about the things he told her.
“Yeah. A few months now…Jesus, Mary and Joseph!”
Winnie leaned forward then, right along with everyone else in the auditorium as Ethan knelt down and held up a small Tiffany’s box in his hand. He opened the box, and Aly’s eyes went wide; the crowd hushed, listening for her reply. The quiet “Yes” that came didn’t sound all that sincere, not to Winnie’s ears. It didn’t look like Aly was thrilled at all, not like how women who are surprised by public marriage proposals are supposed to be. Her smile wavered as she answered Ethan. But the audience, the dancers on the stage, and the theater staff who had crowded around the couple didn’t seem to spot what Winnie had. No one, in fact, did. There was too much going on in the auditorium with the troupe of rhinestone and glittered-up dancers festooned in a myriad of costumes, all excited with the end of the show and the thrill of their instructor caught in an honest to goodness romantic moment. The stage too, was still backlit, with the Yankee New York skyline silhouetted in the back from the final routine of the recital.
Then the moment passed and the dancers pressed up around the couple, excited and giggling. Others came up on the stage, with Aly and Ethan receiving their well-wishers, nodding and greeting all those that bombarded them with congratulations, like some kind of royalty.
“Suppose I should go give him my best,” Kyle said, not waiting for Winnie to join him as he made his way down the center row and out into the crowded aisle.
All eyes stayed on the stage watching Aly and her new fiancé. The noise of voices and laughter in the auditorium was deafening and Winnie turned to fumble with her bag, searching for her phone to text Clara and find out if she’d gotten away from the backstage crowd. But when she looked up, Winnie was surprised to see that the Riley-Hale assembly, who had been sitting three rows back and been boisterous all night, cheering loudly for their daughter every time the poor girl was on stage, was now strangely subdued. Ransom, in particular looked as though he might be sick. Winnie couldn’t help but notice that the young man’s beautiful, dark complexion paled as his eyes stayed riveted on the couple up on stage.