Page 17 of A Wright Christmas


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It was.

She shook her head. “I never would have expected them to be here. They don’t exactly fit, do they?”

“They definitely stand out like a sore thumb.”

“They’re probably used to galas and Fashion Week and clubbing on top of skyscrapers,” she said wistfully.

“And you aren’t?”

Her eyes finally snapped to mine. “What? No! Are you joking, Isaac? Do I look like the kind of person who goes to those sorts of things?”

Something in me relaxed at her easy laughter and disbelief. I was overreacting. I’d been worrying that she was too far out of my reach again, but no, she was right here. And she fit in just fine in Lubbock.

I hadn’t realized how much stock I’d been putting in having her back until that moment. Until I thought that I had lost her to a glamorous life in the city. But all Peyton had ever cared about was dance. She wasn’t mine to have again. Not yet at least. And I knew that if I lost her to anything, it would be ballet and not some rich socialites.

I laughed with her. “I mean, I guess I didn’t really know. It didn’t sound like the Peyton I knew, but it has been years.”

She shrugged. “I think I’m pretty much the same person as I was. Just more dance.”

“And who even knew more dance was possible?”

“Always possible.” She touched my arm and gestured for us to keep moving. “We should probably mingle.”

I nodded and let her lead the way through the crowd of donors of the Lubbock Ballet Company. She was gracious and beautiful through the entire thing. She really did seem more poised now that she was prepared for everyone’s attention rather than getting pounced on at the door. It was sort of miraculous to watch her handle the room like a professional. She was a professional after all.

Near the end of the evening, Kathy came and hugged Peyton. “Thank you so much for agreeing to do this this season. I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else.”

“I’m glad to be back,” she said truthfully.

Kathy drew me into a hug next. “And always good to see you around LBC. How’s Aly?”

“She’s great. She can’t wait for opening night. I don’t think I’m ever going to get her to sleep after she performs. She loves it all so much.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Kathy said, winking at Peyton.

“I do have trouble sleeping after a performance,” she said with a shrug.

“Ah, it’s so good to see you two in the same place again.”

Peyton caught my eye and then flushed, looking away. God, I needed to just ask her out. No more of this tiptoeing. I knew that I needed to protect Aly from heartbreak if…when Peyton left again. But could I really let her be here in town, where I always wanted her, and not make a move?

Kathy suddenly bent over and groaned.

Peyton reached out. “Are you all right?”

“Oh, just…Braxton Hicks,” she moaned.

“Are you sure?” I asked carefully.

Peyton looked wide-eyed with fear, but I’d already gone through this once. I remembered when Abby had gone into labor, and it’d looked a hell of a lot like this.

“No,” she said faintly. She tried to stifle a cry as another contraction hit her. “They started earlier, during rehearsal. They’ve been coming on and off. Oh God, I think I’m going into labor.”9Peyton“Not now, baby girl. You have three more weeks in there. It’s too soon,” Kathy said hoarsely.

“Is there anything we can do?” I asked in shock.

“Get Bryan,” Kathy said. “He can drive me to the hospital.”

“I’ll stay with her,” Isaac said, stepping up immediately.

I nodded and dashed across the room to find her husband, Bryan. He was well over six feet tall with a deep brown complexion and a bald head. Everyone always joked that he had more hair on his chin than he’d ever had on his head because he sported a considerable black beard.

Bryan was the orchestra director, and they had met and fallen in love during their very first performance together nearly twenty years ago. It took him a full season before he plucked up the courage to ask her out. They were happily married within the year. It was the fairy tale everyone dreamed of.

“Bryan,” I gasped, stopping before him and not caring who I interrupted. “It’s Kathy.”

“Excuse me,” he said to the board members he’d been speaking with. “What’s wrong, Peyton?”

“Kathy is going into labor.”

He straightened considerably and nodded. “Let’s go.”

I walked him back over to Kathy, who was now clutching Isaac’s hand and drawing a crowd.

“I’m here now, darling,” Bryan said. “Come with me, and I’ll bring the car around out front.”

Kathy nodded, her face contorting into pain. And then they disappeared through their whispering audience.

It wasn’t until Kathy and Bryan were gone that I had the realization that no one was going to be around the next month to direct The Nutcracker. Kathy having the baby three weeks early meant that there was no artistic director during the most important season of the ballet. My heart sank. What were we going to do?

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