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When the blanket was cleared, she rose to her knees, looking out toward the Washington Monument. The sky was darkening, clouds moving through the hazy air. Finally, she twisted to peer over her shoulder at Brendan.
“Look at this.” Sonia slapped her ass.
Brendan raised his eyebrows. “Believe me, I'm looking.”
“It would have ended my dance career if I let someone else call the shots.” She ran her hand over the curves. “I kept being told that my body was wrong. My butt was too big. My boobs were too bouncy. I didn’t have a ‘desirable dance body.’”
Brendan's mouth fell open. “That's ridiculous.”
“Of course it is.”
“Don't change a thing. That would be a crime.”
Sonia grinned. “Believe me, I'm not planning to change myself. I want to change the world.”
Brendan looked at her sharply.
“I’m not joking.” Sonia hurried on. “I know that sounds grandiose, but I want to leave my mark. I started a dance company so that anyone with talent can get on a stage and have a career, regardless of their shape and size. Did you notice that at the twelve shows you came to watch?”
“I might have.” His face relaxed into a smile, though his eyes were still intent. “But I mostly watched you.”
“Yeah, well, it may have been the last show. So I’m glad you saw it.” She pulled up a blade of grass.
“Sonia, listen—”
Quickly, she cut him off. “Let’s change the subject. I’ll talk about anything you want, except this.”
Brendan raked a hand through his hair, loosening his tie. “Okay. Who’s Jacqueline?”
“What do you mean?” She felt hot and uncomfortable in the lacy blouse and tight pencil skirt all of a sudden.
“Jacqueline Jacobson of theWashington Post.Your fake name. Did that come out of nowhere, or is she an actual person?”
“It’s my middle name,” Sonia muttered. “And my mom’s name, too.”
“Oh.”
“What’s your middle name? My grandma wants to know.”
“She does, huh? Anything for your grandma.” Brendan grinned. “It’s Sean. After my dad’s favorite uncle.”
“Really?”
“Were you hoping for something else?”
“Nah, Sean’s nice.” Sonia turned to look at the walkway beside them, where people strolled past. “I used to come here every summer,” she added suddenly. “To DC, to visit my grandmother. It was heaven. I’d stay for a couple of months, do dance camps, go to museums and plays with Grandma Adrienne. And we’d come to the Mall every week and have a picnic right over there.” She pointed to the lawn opposite.
“When did you start?” Brendan asked softly.
“When my parents decided they didn’t want to deal with me for the summer. I was seven, I think? They sent me away for two months.” Though she spoke matter-of-factly, Brendan looked startled. “Believe me, it was one of the good things they did. I kept coming, all through high school and most of college, because I felt free here.” She pressed her lips together. What was it about Brendan that made her want to talk? “Do you ever feel free?”
His mouth opened and closed. “With you.”
Sonia felt that stupid flutter in her belly again. Especially when she saw red creeping up Brendan’s neck.
“So three’s your magic number,” he went on quickly. “Today’s the fourth time for us. Are you gonna dump me now, or do I get to make you come first?”
She arched her neck. “I promised you a week, Bren. I’m yours until the wedding.”
