A cute man with glasses, dark curly hair, and killer cheekbones takes pity on me, nervously asking me to dance. The booze is working its magic, and I’m in dire need of a distraction, so I agree. Neither of us talks, I think he’s afraid to, but when he opens his mouth for the first time Justin taps him on the shoulder.
“Mind if I cut in, Jem?”
My partner steps aside to allow Justin to take me in his arms. Lucy insisted on dance lessons for her nephew, and I just happened to be around to act as partner. I know all his moves and cues so well, I could dance with him even if I had no legs. He smiles down at me, and I quickly smile back. “So, are you? Mad at me?” he asks. “Because I was just trying to protect you. I know you hate it, but it’s sort of my job.”
“I do appreciate it. I do.”
“Well, if you’re not mad at me, who do I need to beat up?”
I chuckle. “No one. I’m just…tired.” Angry, afraid, and heartbroken.
“I know the feeling. I have this project at work that’s going nowhere. I’m frustrated as hell because if I don’t crack it, a lot of people could suffer.”
“Lot of that going around,” I say.
“And I have to fly to New Urbana tonight for a meeting because I’ve been neglecting everything else. I’ve barely seen Becks or Daisy all week. What my future mother-in-law must think of me.”
“Better get your priorities straight there, rich boy, before you say ‘I do.’ I doubt your lovely fiancée will put up with your workaholic ways for very long before she wises up and dumps you for a man who will actually be home for dinner and make those ballet recitals.”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, his face falling a little. We dance in silence for a few seconds before he asks, “Do you think I’ll make a good father?”
I’m a little taken aback. We’ve never discussed this topic before. I always put him in the same category as me, the forever childless. Freedom and fun before all else. Crap, he’s going to be a father. How am I just realizing this now? He’s going to have massive responsibilities. The welfare of others will be entirely in his hands. “Of course you will. You’ll be a great Dad,” I say without reservation. “You were born to be a Dad. That little girl adores you.”
“I’m so scared about screwing this up, Jo,” he says in a tone I didn’t think he knew of, let alone felt. Terror.
“Justin, I don’t think you could mess this up even if you wanted to. She’s over the moon for you, they both are. You’ve never failed at anything, let alone the most important thing to ever happen to you. Just be a partner, a friend, a confidante, and most importantly, show up. That’s all any of us can do.”
“You always know what to say to me.”
“My mouth can on occasion be used for good. You just bring it out of me, I guess.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. You never have. You’re my strength, Jo. Everything I am, I owe to you.”
“Hey, if memory serves, you saved me. You more or less took me in, stood by me when I had no one else. You believed in me. You…kept me sane. You’re my hero, in every possible way.”
He stops dancing to hug me. I stiffen at first, but then go with it, even savoring it. “I love you, Jo.”
Twenty years I’ve been waiting to hear that. No one but my Pop has ever said it to me. It’s not the way I want it, but I’ll take it. “I love you too, rich boy.”
The song ends and the dancers applaud. He pulls away first, beaming down at me. “We’re going to take a short break,” the bandleader says before stepping away from the stand. There’s a clinking of glass and all eyes turn to the source. Lucy holds up her glass and hits it as she walks toward the bandstand. Rebecca and Marnie are close behind, whispering to each other. Must be nice to have such a good relationship with your mother. The ladies step next to us, Rebecca sliding her arm through Justin’s.
“May I have your attention, please?” Lucy asks. The conversation stops as we all listen. “I ask you all to raise your glasses to the future bride and groom.” Everyone who has one raises them. “May you always have wealth, health, and above all, happiness. To the beautiful couple.”
“To the beautiful couple,” we all say. They nod in appreciation.
Lucy looks at me for a few seconds, why I have no idea. Her eyes narrow in annoyance. Oh! That’s my cue. I climb up onstage as Lucy steps off. I was trying to think of something to say on the ride over, but nothing came to mind. Some best man I am. The crowd waits as I smooth my skirt and clear my throat. Mouth, don’t fail me now.