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summer
Two Weeks Later- Mountain Ridge
“One,two, three, four. One, two, three, four. Glide, Mr. Kaplan. Glide like a swan on water. You’re one with the music, and Mrs. Kaplan is one with you. Hold your head high and keep going. One, two, three, four---stay in position, young lady, and follow your handsome man’s lead.” The elderly couple on the dance floor giggles as I hover around them, straightening postures, adjusting hands, and teaching them how to waltz for their fiftieth anniversary.
“How’s this Summer?” The Kaplans set off on their own, touring the dance floor with the excitement of teenagers.
“I’m impressed, Gabe. You and Celia will blow everyone away. When’s the big event?” They’ve shown so much improvement in four days. I have a hunch they’re practicing in their room at night.
“It’s in three weeks. Our son is hosting a party at the same venue where we had our wedding reception fifty years ago! Can you believe that?” Celia beams with pride. “He’s such a good boy to do this for us.”
“You’re lucky to have such a thoughtful son.” My heart clenches with emotion. Spending time with the Kaplans makes me miss my Roman. Is he my Roman? No, not yet---not officially. God knows he wants to be, and you never know what the future holds, but I came here to clear my head and take stock of all these unfamiliar feelings. But I’m not sure if this is helping as much as I hoped.
I miss the hell out of him.
We spent ten beautiful days in the lap of love. I’ve never had so much fun. Dear Lord, I never dreamed two people could have so much sex. I went so long without a nibble, and just before I left to spend seven weeks alone, I set my expectations for daily orgasms at an all-time high. It’s those kinds of amateur moves that lead to bad decisions.
“All right, you crazy kids, the hour is coming to a close.” I clap my hands to get their attention. “I think you’ve mastered the waltz. How about on our next session, we start the foxtrot?”
“That sounds hard. Can we keep doing the waltz a little longer? I feel like I’ve only now got the hang of it,” Gabe pleads while Celia nods.
I laugh to myself and crouch in for a group hug. “How about I teach you a few more moves than just these basic steps. You’ve got a nice technique, and I think we can add a few moves that help you dance in place. We can try the cross-body lead, an open break with an underarm turn, or a waltz twinkle. How do those sound?”
“Difficult,” Gabe grumbles, but Celia’s enthusiasm changes his mind.
“Are they hard, Summer?” Celia clarifies on her man’s behalf.
I shake my head and attempt to soothe her concerns. They have natural talent, and when dance teachers meet a couple that moves so well together, we tend to grow overzealous. I don’t want to make that mistake with them. They’re enjoying the love of the dance, and that’s ultimately the most essential part. “I won’t let you get in over your head. We’ll try one at a time and ensure you’ve mastered them before I pile on another. Baby steps, Mr. And Mrs. Kaplan---this is all about baby steps.”
“Splendid, Summer. You’re the best teacher we’ve ever had. We tried before years ago and never got this far.” Celia piles on the praise, and my cheeks heat under their grateful gaze.
“Cut it out, you two. You’re going to make my head explode!” I tease them and shuffle them out of the dance hall. “Don’t forget tomorrow your class begins at 11:00. I’ve got that couple getting married tomorrow evening coming in for a last-minute lesson in the morning. Should be interesting.”
“Want us to come help you?” Gabe offers his services with a quick demonstration of his skill. He’s going to drive Celia crazy for years to come.
I laugh at his impromptu waltz and give them a thumbs up. “Drop by a half hour early and show those kids how it’s done. Maybe some of your fifty-year mojo will rub off on them before they take the plunge.”
I watch them leave and wave goodbye from the porch. I can hardly make out the lake past the trees with the sun in my eyes, but I’m dying to take a dip. I’ve spent every free moment talking to Roman or listening to Sunny complain about her swollen feet and less-than-perfect pregnancy skin. That girl needs to give it up. She’s carrying around Baron’s giant baby. There were bound to be a few consequences to her body. Big pores? She got off easy.
While I take in the sights, I spot my next appointment charging up the sidewalk. “Hey, Summer!” Phoebe, another escapee from New York looking to wind down in the mountains, runs towards me dressed entirely inappropriately for cha-cha lessons.
“What’s with the swimsuit?” I question, wondering if I scheduled her at the wrong time.
“Can I cancel for today?” She lifts her hands to urge me to listen to her entire spiel before I cut her off. “I know there are no refunds, and I will give you an awesome review, but I met someone last night, and he invited me to go paddleboarding on the lake. Normally, I’d say no. But he’s not from the city and only looking for a good time. That’s precisely what I need and the only reason I came. You understand, don’t you?” She clasps her hands in prayer and produces a Chesire cat grin.
I cross my arms over my chest and tap my foot on the top step. “Are you canceling tomorrow’s lesson?”
“No, I’ll be here tomorrow. This is a one-time thing. His name is Levi Wolfe, and he’s got black hair and blue eyes. He’s hot as sin and ripped as fuck. I’ve hit the freaking motherload. Oh, and he’s got a scorpion tattoo on his neck. I believe he’s staying in the Valleyview Cabin, but I’m not 100% sure.” She lists the details of her soon-to-be one-night stand like she’s giving me a police report.
“Why are you telling me this?” I stare, confused.
“Don’t you watch true crime? Yes, I want sex, but I always don’t want to be murdered. He knows I’m here alone, and I want to tell him I told people about him before he gets any sick ideas. Can I count on you to have my back?” She pleads again, dancing in place to show me she’s practiced what she’s learned.
I roll my eyes and wave her off. “Yes, yes---I’ve got your back. Go get your freak on, and for the love of God, be careful. Make sure people see you together and don’t forget to carry something sharp in your bag. My boyfriend runs a security and personal bodyguard business. He says if anyone tries to strangle you, don’t push him away--- that’s our instinct. You need to punch his ears over and over. It loosens the psycho’s grip and gives you time to run.”
“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend! Why are you so secretive, damn it! Great advice, though. Your man must really love you.” She winks and darts away into the woods, excited to meet the man with the scorpion tattoo. She’s right about one thing---he does sound hot.
And when did I start calling Roman my boyfriend? For crying out loud, I knew that giant Italian pretty boy would worm his way into my heart---and once he’s there, I’m toast.
I lift my wrist to examine the time and realize I have the next four hours to myself. My following appointment won’t arrive until a quarter past 3:00. I should take a swim or jog off this sexual frustration. While contemplating my next move, the smell of fresh fried chicken from Franny’s Barn wafts into my face, and my stomach grumbles with hunger.
It was a mistake to take a job so close to a restaurant. I’m homesick, horny, confused, and apparently halfway to falling in love. This is a perfect storm for emotional overeating.
But damn, that chicken smells good.
