“Not that again,” Deacon groaned, as he took a seat at the end of the table. The corners of Willow’s lips turned down in a frown. At her sad face, Deacon sighed. “Look, kid, we’ve been over and over this. I can’t let you out to go to school, so I sure as hell can’t let you go to dance lessons.”
“Language, David,” Liz chastised.
Deacon grunted at his mother before tossing his napkin into his lap. “Whatever. It ain’t happening.”
Rev narrowed his eyes at Deacon’s somewhat apathetic response. He reached over to ruffle Willow’s hair. “Just be patient, sweetheart. We’ll get you those dance lessons someday soon.”
With a curious expression, Deacon’s gaze zeroed in on mine. “Do you know anyone who does home lessons or virtual lessons? I’ll make sure they’re compensated very well.”
As Willow looked hopefully at me, I replied, “No. Not off the top of my head.”
When her face fell, I thought about my years of ballet training. Not only would I enjoy spending more time withWillow, but I could use the extra money to put towards my graduate student loan.
“While I’m not an instructor, I took ballet for fifteen years. If you’d like, I could teach Willow.”
“That makes sense. You have a dancer’s body,” Rev said.
My gaze jerked from Deacon’s to Rev’s. Bishop slapped Rev on the back. “Oh man, you’ve been checking her out too, huh?” he teased, with a grin.
“Just an observation,” he replied softly, without meeting anyone’s eyes.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Deacon cleared his throat. “Okay, then, Miss Twinkle Toes. Guess you’re getting your precious dance lessons.”
Willow squealed with excitement, her body bouncing in her chair beside me. “I want a pink leotard, Miss Alex.”
I grinned. “I think I can make that happen.”
Liz sat down a large platter of ham. “Well now. I think that’s everything.” After she dropped down into the empty chair at the end of the table, she nodded at Deacon. “Will you return thanks, son?”
My mouth gaped open when Deacon laced his fingers together and bowed his head. It took me a moment in my stupor to bow my head as well. Deacon’s deep voice boomed through the silent dining room. “Bless this food to the nourishment of our bodies, and our bodies to your service. Amen.”
“Amen,” echoed around the table.
We then started passing around the bowls of food. “This all looks so delicious,” I said, as I spooned some green beans onto my plate.
“Thank you,” Liz replied, with a pleased smile. After she offered me some cornbread, she asked, “Now where is it you’re from originally?”
“Marietta. I moved here when I was seventeen to live with my aunt and uncle.”
After nodding her head in acknowledgement, Liz chewed thoughtfully on her cornbread, and I could see the questions about my past whirling through her mind. Deciding to put her out of her misery, I said, “My parents were killed in a car accident when I was seventeen. My brother and I came to live with my mother’s brother.”
Liz’s face fell at my admission. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. Such a terrible tragedy for one so young.”
As a knot formed in my throat, I could only nod my head in acknowledgment. Although almost ten years had passed since my parents died, there were still times when I found it almost unbearable to think about, least of all to talk about. Most of my initial grieving got pushed aside to be strong for Charlie.
“I believe your uncle is a lifer here?” Deacon asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.
“Well, for most of his life, I suppose. He was twenty when he got married and moved here to be with my aunt’s family.”
“He’s a former state trooper.”
My brows rose in surprise at all of Deacon’s knowledge about my family. “Yes, he retired two years ago with forty years with the Georgia State Patrol.”
“Ah, God’s Special Police,” Bishop said, with a grin.
I laughed. “A lot of his local PD buddies teased him with that.”
“Does he still have ties to the GSP or the local PD?” Deacon asked.
