He wasn’t sorry, because he wasn’t wrong. I was going to have to face up to that fact and decide what, if anything, to do about it.
The lights went out again, and he waved his arms like he was flagging down a passing car.
“Why’d you play ‘Moon River’?” I asked when he was reilluminated. “Why not that song about the lake that you said I inspired?”
“Two reasons. One, I see now how that whole muse speech came out wrong. Youdidinspire that song, but it doesn’t mean you’re responsible for it. Two, dancing to ‘Moon River’ thatnight was the most romantic thing I’ve ever done. Everwantedto do. And I would very much like to do it again someday.”
“Yeah.” I paused. “So would I.”
So this was it. This—standing in front of a man and telling him you loved him—was scarier than taking on a ginormous mortgage and renovating a building full of asbestos and leaky pipes. But it helped that my “So would I” triggered the biggest, goofiest grin from him.
The lights went out.
“God damn it!” he exclaimed, and he was starting to sound annoyed. When the lights came back on, he said, “I know you’re scared.I’mscared. But I think this”—he waved his hand back and forth between us—“is a thing. I think it’s real in any context, not just in the woods. I don’t know if there’s a fairy tale where the crone and the asshole in the cabin across the street live happily ever after, but there should be.” He blew out a breath. “I’m bad at speeches. I’m better at songs. But yeah, I love you.”
The stupid eye leaking was starting again. I didn’t want him to see me cry.
But wait. That was part of my problem, right? If someone was going to be your person, they were going to see you cry every now and then. The prospect made me feel sick. But also hopeful.
He cleared his throat.
I loved him back. I loved him so much.
He dug in his pocket, looked down at his hand, and said, “Ten dollars for your thoughts.”
“Well,” I said, “you better come inside, then, because I have a lot of them.”
EPILOGUE
AND THEY LIVED
Gretchen
And they all lived happily ever after. Just kidding. Well, kind of. It’s after, and we’re happy. We’re not living together, but that’s how I wanted it. Baby steps, you know?
Hi, it’s me. Gretchen the badass. Studio owner, dance teacher.
And now it’s April, and I’ve added a couple other titles to my résumé:
Dance company artistic director. We’ll get back to that.
And, wait for it… real estate investor.
I decided to flip the studio building.
Yeah. I didn’t really want to expand into yoga and Pilates. I’d thought I did. I’d had my midlife crisis and asked Dad’s question.Is this all there is?
The answer had been no, so I’d started reaching for more. Expanding my empire.
Turned out, I’d been expanding in the wrong direction.
I say that without any implied criticism of my existing studio. I love teaching. I believe in what I do, and in how I do it. Miss Miller’s Morals has created a dance studio I’m proud of.
But Wild Arts showed me that I didn’t want to grow my existing empire; I wanted to do something else entirely.
Who am I kidding?Teddyshowed me. Remember when we were lost in the woods and I was delivering my midlife crisis monologue and he said something along the lines ofCan your studio be great but also not enough for you at your current stage of life?
Yeah, I didn’t remember that, either. At least not initially. I wasn’t ready to hear it when he said it, I guess, which is funny because Rory went through this whole phase where she was always talking about holding two contradictory truths in your mind simultaneously. Sounded fine when she said it. Sounded fine when Teddy said it. But it didn’t sound like somethingIcould actually do, so my brain let it slide away.
