Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“And you think we’re embarrassed that you love to dance? That you travel and see the world the way you do?” Mom laughed. “Honey, I wish I could dance like you! I wish I’d leaned into the freedom I felt pulling my soul when I was a young adult and had done the same. I wished I’d taken time to get to know myself, to try things and learn from them before trying something else.”
“We both rushed into responsibility because we wanted success,” Dad continued. “And we love our lives. But we look at you and we smile because this was what we worked so hard for. We’re happy we could provide for you to take this time to discover yourself.”
“God, are we,” Mom echoed. “Nothing in the world makes me happier than knowing you could explore who you are with the security we provided. And we’d provide it your whole life, if that’s what you wanted.”
“Because in the end, you being happy is the only thing we want,” Dad finished.
I didn’t realize I was crying until the tears streamed down my cheeks, falling into my lap. “You guys always do this thing… this pause where you look at each other and it’s like… it’s like you pity me. Or like you worry about me.”
“Well, of course, we worry about you,” Dad said on a laugh. “If you ever decide to have children, you’ll understand that. But that pause we share?” He took a moment, and I laughed to myself, imagining them doing it now. “It’s a little thing your mom and I do in moments we want to soak up and not forget, in moments where we see you making decisions we wish we could have.”
“It’s us taking a mental snapshot, and telling the other that we did this, we raised a beautiful, strong, talented woman who takes life by the horns,” Mom said.
Now I was really crying.
“I thought you guys stayed away from me because I didn’t fit into your life.”
“We’ve kept a distance because we thought that was what you wanted,” Mom said. “We didn’t want to suffocate you.”
“We’d move next door if you said it was okay,” Dad added. “Is it? I’ll call a realtor right now.”
I laughed. “No, don’t do that. Mama would die without New York City hot dogs.”
“It’s true,” she said on a long sigh.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I let anxiety take over me, I guess. I thought the worst.”
“We all do that sometimes,” Mom said. “You get that from my side of the family, I fear. But… we’d love to start changing things. Can we come visit again soon? And actually stay a while?”
“I’d love that,” I croaked. “I… there may be someone I want you to meet when you come.”
That made them pause again, and this time, I didn’t see it as a bad thing.
“Oh?” Mom asked in a teasing tone.
“Maybe,” I said. “It’s… things are complicated right now. I’m not sure we’ll be able to figure it out, but… I’m trying to have hope.”
“What’s so complicated about it?” Dad asked, and I heard the protectiveness in his voice. “Any man would be lucky to have your attention.”
“He’s a football player. For Seattle.”
“Oh,” Mom and Dad said in unison. “I guess that’s a bit of a problem,” Mom surmised.
“A bit,” I echoed. “But… I think we could make it through. Especially because I’m pretty sure this is my last season with the team.”
“What? Why?” Mom asked.
I bit my lip. “I… well, I think I may want to get a studio of my own and teach.”
There it was again. The Huxley Pause.
This time, it swelled in my heart like a glitter-filled balloon.
“Sweetie, that is…” Mom sniffed. “That is just wonderful.”
“We’ll help,” Dad added instantly. “We can come look at places with you, help you clean and decorate and get business up and running.”
“Are you sure we shouldn’t move?” Mom asked.
I laughed, pressing a hand over my heart.
“What made you think of this?” Dad asked.
My chest ached. “Braden. The player I was telling you about. He… he just helped me see what I couldn’t.”
“Sounds like love,” Mom assessed.
I nodded, my eyes flooding again. “I do love him. God, I love him,” I said, rolling my lips together. “But he’s got a lot on his plate, and I just don’t know if he can choose me right now.”
“I can.”
I balked, head snapping up to find the absolute last person I expected to see.
Braden.
He was standing in the doorway of the dance studio, winded, like he’d run all the way from Baltimore. He was dressed in a Seattle Seahawks sweatsuit, a big puffy jacket over it all, his hair a wreck, his eyes red and deep with exhaustion.
He was still gorgeous.
I still wanted to run to him.
“I can choose you,” he said, taking a small step, like he didn’t want to scare me off. “I can and I am and I should have last week and I am so fucking sorry I didn’t.”