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But that didn’t mean Lucas was the right man even if from the start she’d been attracted to him. That atypical response didn’t mean anything. So it usually took weeks or months for her to feel comfortable around a guy? Just because it happened within a couple of days signified nothing.
But she knew it did… even if on paper Lucas was all wrong for her. In the long run, he was inaccessible—didn’t live in New Orleans, had a life elsewhere. New Orleans was a pit stop for him, and all she could ever be was a nice memory.
Was that enough to take a risk?
Especially when Robbie might be paroled in less than a week. Did she really want to let down her guard when danger lurked around the corner?
“Addy?” Aunt Flora’s voice boomed from the innards of the house.
“Coming,” she shouted, trotting up the porch steps, shutting the door and twisting the lock before setting the kettle on the stove.
“What’s taking you so long?” Aunt Flora asked, schlepping into the kitchen with Bugs Bunny slippers and a wildly patterned caftan.
“Lucas stopped by,” she said, grabbing two cups and the tin of chamomile. Both she and Flora needed something to calm their nerves.
“I tell you what, I wouldn’t be talking with that man around. I’d be doing.” Aunt Flora folded herself into a chair and watched Addy. “No tea for me tonight, dear. I’m having vodka.”
“Vodka?”
“Diane found a wonderful cotton candy vodka. It’s delish to sip.”
Addy wrinkled her nose but slid her aunt’s cup back into the cupboard. Aunt Flora wasn’t supposed to mix alcohol with her medications, but Addy figured she shouldn’t point that out tonight. The woman finally acted more like herself. The jittery shell of a woman who had met her when she arrived home had scared her. A teary Aunt Flora was like eating week old meatloaf… not fun to experience the blow back. “Fine, but I’m not going dancing with you later when the booze kicks in.”
Flora laughed. “When is the last time you danced, Addy? You used to love it.”
Addy stiffened. “I don’t have time to dance.”
Her aunt tsked and shook her head sadly. “Honey, you gotta start dancing.”
“I’m assuming you’re talking about more than actual foot work?”
Aunt Flora tilted her head, her silvery hair dropping against the bold red, yellow and orange silk and gave her a bemused smile. “I used to dance with Millard every Saturday.”
“Mr. O’Boyle? The guy you bought Fleur De Lis from?”
“Millard was a fine dancer, so light on his feet. He always hummed as we danced, holding me so close as we circled the potted plants and waltzed past the cut stems. Best end to a work week ever.”
“He was married with four children, Aunt Flora.”
Her aunt narrowed her eyes. “I know, but what’s the harm in a dance?”
The kettle whistled and Addy poured steaming water into her cup and swirled the tea ball, releasing the aroma. She inhaled deeply. “So were you in love with him?”
“Of course. There was much to love about Millard. He had a deep laugh that nearly shook his entire body and a neat mustache he liked to stroke when he contemplated his designs. And he was always so sweet to children, giving little girls flowers and young boys a sweet from his candy jar.”
Addy contemplated Flora sitting in her kitchen, staring out into her past, a half smile on her face. After several seconds of silence, Flora glanced back at Addy. “If only we’d met in another time and place. He was too good a man to hurt his wife. The only leave he gave himself to be another man was when we danced. Still today I can hardly stand the sound of ‘The Tennessee Waltz.’”
Addy didn’t know what to say to her aunt’s admission. Her voice held sorrow and regret. “I’m sorry.”
“Bah, years ago, but the heart does remember.” Flora straightened and then pointed a finger at Addy. “My point is don’t miss the dance, honey. Anyone with eyes in her head can see the man next door wants to be your partner. Don’t deny yourself because there’s no forever in it. Sometimes you have to settle for one dance a week to get you through a lifetime.”
“I’m not avoiding the potential for something between me and Lucas. Things just aren’t ideal for romance.”
“When are they ever ideal? There is no such thing. It’s like saying you’ll have kids when you can afford them. Or saying you’ll do all those things you dreamed of doing when you retire,” Aunt Flora said, giving her a look that made Addy want to cry. “Look what that got me.”
Silence hung between them, and Addy busied herself by putting away the tea tin and tossing the teaspoon into the sink. Mostly so she wouldn’t cry in front of Flora.
“But I’ll tell you what was worthwhile. Dancing with Millard. I don’t regret locking the door, pulling down the shade, and losing myself in a man who was mine… if only for thirty minutes. Sometimes I wonder if I should have tried harder to change my own fortunes.” Aunt Flora’s voice trailed off. “Know what? I wanna get out of here and sip some more of that vodka.”
