So the Heart Can Dance (A Hidden Beauty Novel Book 2) Page 13

  My jaw drops in shock as I whisper, “Do you really think they all said something? They haven’t known me very long.”

  Kiera and Heather both nodded. “Of course they did, you’re one of us, and we protect our own. You’d do the same for me. You helped protect me from my crazy ass would-be stepfather-in-law,” Kiera says with a teary smile.

  Heather clicks her tongue and says, “This is all very sweet and will make a neat scrapbook page, but it doesn’t really explain what happened on your date. Why do you think it’s so disastrous that you’re heaping blame on yourself by the truckload?”

  “It was like a nightmare. It came out of nowhere and snuck up on me when I wasn’t expecting it. We’d been laughing, having a great time reminiscing about our childhood and we were talking about our dreams for the future.”

  Kiera reaches over and pats me on the knee in support as I wipe away a tear.

  “We were having a wonderful day. He was kissing me throughout the day. Did I mention that he’s an amazing kisser?” I ask, with a sigh as I remember the sensations. “I never expected to like kissing again because my last experience was such a nightmare. I didn’t just like it. I loved it. In a weird way, it felt like I’ve finally found my way home. Aidan is scorching hot, but not overwhelming. He touched me; but it didn’t feel like he was trying to break or possess me.”

  “It’s so hard to explain...” I exclaim as I throw my hands up in the air. “His lips are soft, yet firm. He was in my space challenging me to expand myself, yet totally respectful. I can’t even describe how wonderful he smelled. I mean, is that even possible? We were hiking. Any reasonable person would have been sweaty and gross. I don’t even want to think what a fragrant bouquet I was, but he didn’t seem to mind.”

  Heather gives a small gasp of glee as she nods her head in encouragement, “I’m so happy for you. If things aren’t going to work out for me, I’m happy to live through the romantic exploits of the Girlfriend Posse. Proceed—”

  I take a deep breath and continue with the darker side of my tale, “Anyway, the weather turned really warm and I was wearing that tank top under my clothes, remember? —the one that says, ‘Sign Language Interpreters Do It With Their Hands!’ When Aidan saw it, he chuckled and said, ‘Why, Tara, I didn’t know you were such a little tease…’”

  “I know he didn’t mean anything by it. In fact, he probably meant it as a joke, but it was so similar to the words Jones said to me the night of the rape, it put me into a state of shock. I pushed Aidan away and I haven’t been able to say another word to him since. I feel so stupid that Warren Jones can have this much power over me all these years later. They were just words and Aidan didn’t mean anything by them. When I got home, I showered for an hour until I ran out of hot water. It’s like I couldn’t help myself, and I haven’t made any progress since I was fourteen. How can I ever hope to have a normal relationship, if I can’t even go on a date without freaking out?”

  I start to tremble. I hate this about myself. I wasn’t always like this. I used to have excellent muscle control. I could hold a pose for hours—even en pointe. I was solid as a rock.

  Kiera reaches over to gather me into an embrace. I’m sure it looks funny to anyone else because I’m so much taller than her wheelchair. Still, it works for us because Kiera gives the best hugs in the whole world. “I’m sorry for all that Warren Jones took from you. He had no right to do that. I hope that someone in prison is doing exactly to him what he did to you.”

  I choke out a startled laugh. Leave it to Kiera to say exactly what I think every night. But then again, she is the daughter of a trucker. “I hope so too,” I concede. “Karma’s a bitch.”

  “How did Aidan react to all of this?” Heather asks. “Please tell me the boy did not turn his tail and run.”

  I trace the pitted surface of the table with my fingernail. I’m embarrassed to meet Heather’s questioning eyes. “I’m not really sure,” I admit. “Like I said, I was practically comatose with shock. I remember getting really cold even though it was about eighty degrees outside. He put his jacket around my shoulders and the picnic blanket around my legs after we got in his van. He tried to hold me and comfort me, but I totally freaked out, so he backed away. After he walked me to the door, he checked all my locks to make sure they were sound. He’s been texting a couple times a day to check in on me. I’m so embarrassed by my meltdown that I haven’t even read them and if all of that wasn’t bat shit crazy enough, I swear I heard him singing to me to calm me down. Isn’t that bizarre?” I say, shaking my head, as I remember the soft, rich, gravelly baritone voice serenading me that night.

  Heather gives me a look of sympathy as she says, “Well, I’ve seen your powers of telling the future and divining deeper meaning of things at work and I’m definitely a believer. But in this case, I think it would be easier to just read his text messages.”

  “Very funny, Heather. You know good and well, my powers don’t extend to my own life. I wish they did. I could’ve avoided a whole lot of heartache if I’d known not to go on that stupid date when I was fourteen,” I mutter.

  “Seriously, Tara, what do you have to lose? If you don’t read his text messages, you’ll never be able to gauge his reaction to the situation,” advises Kiera.

  “Honestly? I’m afraid that if he catches a glimpse of how devastated I truly am, he’s not going to want to stick around to deal with the aftermath. He still remembers an unsullied little girl, not the basket case I’ve become,” I admit with a raw openness I’ve never really exposed to anyone before.

  “Tara, if he’s the kind of man that would think less of you because your rape caused a post-traumatic stress reaction, then he doesn’t deserve you,” Kiera states emphatically.

  Heather nods her head and says to Kiera, “Preach it, sister!”

  “I know you’re right.” I readily concede. “I just don’t know what to do about it now. I should have responded right away when he texted me. He’s going to think I’m a royal bitch.”

  Heather throws her head back and laughs, practically choking on her cherry 7-Up. “Well, that’s just stupid. Anybody who has even just met you knows better than that. Stop stalling and read the messages.”

  I pull out my phone and read. At first, they’re just what I would’ve expected from Aidan. Light and perky messages affirming that he had a great time. Gradually, as there was no response from me. I can sense the tone of his texts change and the worry creep in as he leaves a series of messages inquiring about my well-being.

  He left a final, heartbreaking message, “I said I’d be here for you. I mean it. If you’re done puking literally or metaphorically, let me know. Or better yet, let me be there for you so that I can hold your beautiful hair so it doesn’t drag in the toilet. I thought we already decided that life is messy and I’m not scared of a little bit of puke. Seriously, Gracie, please stop hiding. I don’t know exactly what I did to upset you. But, I won’t know until you talk to me and tell me so that I can do it better next time.”

  Wordlessly, I hand my phone to Kiera. Tears are streaming down my face. Heather is straining to look over Kiera’s shoulder and when she does, she exclaims, “Man! Where do you guys keep finding these perfect guys? If you decide you don’t want this one, I’ll take him. How sweet is he?”

  “No way! I saw him first,” I argue. “Besides, the way I hear it, there is a pretty amazing cowboy who already called dibs on you.”

  “I’m not even going to think about that man because a.) He annoys me and b.) We’re talking about you right now,” Heather answers, dismissing my words with a wave of her hand as if they were just annoying gnats.

  “Hey, wait a minute!” I protest, “You didn’t let me use that logic when you changed the subject from Kiera’s honeymoon to my dating life.”

  Kiera laughs as she responds, “Well, that’s because everybody knows that Ty and Heather are a foregone conclusion. The man is just biding his time until she comes to her senses. So, for now, they are old n
ews.”

  Heather sputters in outrage and practically hisses, “Foregone conclusion? You have actually met him, right? He’s overbearing and opinionated. He doesn’t have any sense of personal space. He just says any old thought that comes into his head. It’s just weird.”

  It’s amazing to observe a blush overtake Heather and travel clear up to her hairline, which is covered in Shirley Temple corkscrew curls today. “That may all be true, but he also has the manners of a southern gentleman, is an above-average dancer, is dashingly handsome and is a kick ass law-enforcement officer. Is it possible you set the bar a tad too high?”

  Heather nods and concedes, “It’s not only possible, it’s probable. Can we not talk about my love life, or lack thereof right now? It’s just too depressing. The question is, what are you going to do about yours?”

  I pick at a snag in my sweater and the yarn starts to come unwound. Kiera grabs my hand before I completely destroy the entire thing. She carefully scrutinizes me and gently asks, “Tara, he left the ball in your court. Do you want to pick it up and play?”

  Without hesitation, I blurt, “Oh, hell yes. But I’m not sure I know how. What if it’s too much to ask him, to wait for me to learn?”

  Heather gets up from the worn booth, walks over, and envelops me in a huge hug. “Honey, I think the man has already made it clear that he’ll do whatever needs to be done. You just have to take the first step. And the next. And the next. Baby steps, honey!”

  I slump down in the booth in defeat as I wrap my arms around my body. “I’m so frightened. What if I can’t do this?”

  “What if you can?” counters Kiera. “What if it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you? You’ll never know unless you take the first step.”

  “All right, I’ll text him. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s moved on to greener pastures by now. It’s been almost two weeks since we went on our hike,” I reply, the ache in the pit in my stomach growing larger by the second.

  I fumble nervously with my phone for a couple of minutes because my fingers don’t seem to want to cooperate. Finally, Heather takes my phone away from me, in frustration. “Consider me your temporary social secretary and Internet guru. Tell me what you want to say and I’ll type it. This way, we might actually get an answer sometime before the end of this millennium. Are you his friend on Facebook?” she says, as she’s scrolling through applications on my phone.

  I roll my eyes. “I was his best friend when we were kids. What do you think? Of course I’m his Facebook friend. I also liked his fan page and left him a review on Yelp. But what does that have to do with anything? He sent me a text message-or twenty-five, remember? Aren’t you just going to reply to those?”

  Heather smirks at me, “Well, I suppose I could if you want to be simple and straightforward about it,” she replies, trying to keep a straight face. In the end, she’s unsuccessful and breaks out in a huge grin.

  “Funny,” I reply with a long-suffering sigh. “Can’t you tell I’m about to jump out of my skin here? Can we please just get this over with before I lose my nerve? I want to say:”

  ‘I’m sorry for listening to my brain when I should’ve been listening to my heart. Can we pretend the last half hour of the date and the drive home never happened? I’d like a do over, please. I promise to take you bowling and spot you twenty pins.

  Love, Gracie’

  “Would you like me to repeat that?” I ask.

  Heather grins and finishes in a flurry. “Nope, I’ve got it. Although, I still can’t say I understand why he calls you Gracie.”

  I smile to myself as I respond, “It’s one of my middle names and the topic of an inside joke.”

  Heather perks up at the prospect of getting an inside scoop, but I quickly derail her plans when I respond, “That’s a topic for another day.”

  Heather sticks her bottom lip out in a mock pout and complains, “Every time we get to the good stuff, something really important interrupts us.”

  “Speaking of the good stuff, we never got to talk about Kiera’s honeymoon. But unfortunately, I have to go study. My signing skills have gotten rusty over the summer. I’ve got to keep my grades up to keep any hope of a scholarship.”

  Kiera pats me on the shoulder and advises, “No worries. We’ll get together soon and you can have some of the juicy details then. Note –-I did say some. There are some things even the Girlfriend Posse don’t need to know. Though, trust me, there are many, many, many upsides to being married. That’s about all I’m going to say about that for now because I don’t want to distract you from you homework,” she finishes with a wink and a grin.

  Heather sticks her tongue out at Kiera. “Well, it sucks to have to wait. But maybe by then you’ll have your own stories to tell,” she says, pointing her finger at me.

  “Don’t get your hopes up, it’s been fifteen minutes and he still hasn’t returned my text,” I lament.

  Just then, my phone rings with the ring tone of Oklahoma in honor of Aidan’s love for Broadway musicals. I answer cautiously, “Hello?”

  “So, gorgeous Gracie wants to go bowling? I’m good with that. I bet you look hot in polyester and rented bowling shoes. I’m all in. What does your schedule look like?” Aidan inquires.

  I consult the schedule on my phone before I answer, “It looks like I could spare a couple of hours on Sunday, but I would need to get back early because I have a test on Monday.”

  “Works for me. I’m playing a wedding in Corvallis on Saturday. But what’s with this spotting me points business? Don’t you think I can beat you fair and square, just because I’m not a fancy-schmancy dancer? I’ll have you know I have moves you’ve never seen, Ms. Gracie. Consider yourself warned. I’ll pick you up at about 11 o’clock, okay?”

  “Okay, I’ll talk to you later. Thanks for calling,” I say as I prepare to hang up the phone. When I pull the phone away from my ear, I hear him say one last thing.

  “Oh, Tara, just so you know— you just made my whole week. I can’t wait to see you on Sunday,” he confesses as he hangs up.

  As I grip my phone tightly in my hands, the full impact of what I’ve just done hits me. Did I really just ask a real live guy on a real live date and did he really just accept? Holy crap! I think he just did. Before I can chronically overthink it, Heather high-fives Kiera and turns to me. “I take it from this look of stark terror on your face that the conversation went spectacularly well,” she deadpans.

  I grin. Trust Heather to put it all in perspective. “Well, yes. Actually, the conversation went really well and I do have a date. I’m even thrilled about it, but that doesn’t keep me from being scared spit-less.”

  Kiera reaches out and squeezes my hand. “Perhaps this is a good time to remind you—one of the first things you told us about Aidan is that he would never hurt you. Relationships are scary, but they can also be amazing. You can do this. You’ve known Aidan for a really long time and you might not trust yourself, but you have the best ability to read people that I’ve ever seen. You just need to believe in yourself. If you can’t do that, believe in him.”

  I think back to the day we spent together, hiking and climbing rock structures. Aidan was so careful with me. He was attentive, observant, supportive, and encouraging. Until I destroyed the atmosphere of the day, it had been picture-perfect, figuratively and literally. Logically, I have no reason to believe that anything will be different about future dates. But the problem is getting my heart and soul to listen to my brain. I can’t seem to turn off my fight or flight reflex even though I know that Aidan is one of the good guys. “I hope I can, Kiera. I really do. I like this guy so much, it’s a little frightening,” I confess.

  Kiera smiles a small secret smile as she pats my hand in a comforting gesture and states with confidence, “Don’t worry, Tara. That’s exactly how it’s supposed to feel. If it didn’t terrify you at least a little, then I’d be worried. You’re doing just fine.”

  I had just about given up all hope that Ta
ra would contact me again. I want to kick my own impatient ass. Things were going so well, I forgot my plan to go slowly and cautiously. It could’ve cost me any chance with her. But then I got her text message. I read it several times, hoping it means what I think it means.

  Finally, I decide to suck it up and call her. If I misread the situation, it certainly would not be the first time I’ve made a fool of myself in front of her. It frequently is my full-time occupation when I’m in her presence. I don’t know if it’s her waif-like appearance or her sad eyes, but even when I was little I felt it was my responsibility to bring a measure of joy to her life. Knowing that talented girl with the steely determination behind the sad eyes, my sense of responsibility was well on its way to puppy love, when fate rudely intruded in the form of meningitis.

  When the call ends, I can’t seem to wipe the silly grin off of my face. Bowling it is. It’s not the most romantic date on the planet, but I can deal with that. I need to stay flexible to make this work, if that’s even possible. I’m still not sure what happened last time. Things were going fine until I made that seemingly harmless joke. It wasn’t the cleverest thing I’ve ever said, but I didn’t think it was that awful. But Tara had an extreme, visceral reaction to it. She lost so much color in her face, I thought she was going to pass out again, and she went almost catatonic. She didn’t speak to me all the way home. It scared the shit out of me. Tara is not a big talker but this was scary silent even for her. I offered to spend the night on her couch so she wouldn’t be alone. She refused my offer, saying she had to shower. After an awkward air hug at the door, I heard nothing until today. Regardless of why it happened, I do not want to stick my foot in my mouth again.

  Scrolling absently through my email, I click on one that catches my attention. ATTENTION! Are you a Singer/Songwriter? 5 Star Creative Industries and Arts Needs You.