AllFreeNovel
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Pulling out my phone, I open my music app and quickly scroll to the Rat Pack playlist I’ve recently fallen in love with. I blame Cal for tainting my normally flawless musical taste in all-girl punk bands and replacing it with his beloved boys’ club classics.
I set the phone on the table behind us, and music emits from the tinny-sounding speaker. Her ear tilts toward the sound, but she stays fixed on the cabinet.
Approaching cautiously, I inject some cheeriness into my voice while keeping my volume low. “Charlotte, I see you’re frustrated. How about I help you? I’ll search for it, and you dance with Danny. He wants to dance with you. Would that be okay?”
No clue if this is the right thing to do. But if she thinks Cal is her husband, it doesn’t seem helpful to correct her. Maybe we should go with it.
The few articles I read yesterday said it’s best to provide distractions and soothing activities while providing options. Music may also help reduce her agitation.
The tight pinch of her face relaxes as she looks at me and considers my offer.
Then she grins.
It’s the slightest lift at the corner of her mouth, just one side, but it makes my stomach flip-flop with hope.
Cal steps in, hand extended in a silent offer.
With the most non-threatening expression I can manage, I encourage her to move to him. “I’ll find it. You dance. Okay?”
The playlist advances to “I Will” by Dean Martin, and she steps eagerly toward Cal, bringing her hands up.
Relief flutters into my chest, pulsing and swelling. I square my shoulders with the cabinet and close my eyes to stave off the tears. I don’t want to cry. That’s the last thing either of them needs.
I manage to hold in the emotion until I turn around and see them dancing. Slowly at first, then moving faster with the pace of the upbeat song. A lone tear sneaks free, but it’s a happy one.
Cal’s afantasticdancer, which shouldn’t surprise me, but it does. This isn’t the kind of knowledge I could glean with my trademark snooping.
I don’t know much about dancing. Not the names of the holds or styles beyond what I picked up watching one season ofDancing with the Stars. But if I had to name it, it looks like some type of ballroom hold.
One of his strong hands firmly holds her around her middle back; the other is shoulder height, elbow bowed out regally. Even the way he holds her hand appears practiced and polished.
Using her distraction to our advantage, I silently close the cabinet door and glide around them on my way to the table to finish setting up for dinner. As I move past them, Cal and I trade glances.
He winks.
My cheeks blush, and my ovaries explode.Ka-pow!
Once the song ends, he ambles her to the table, ushering her like a proper gentleman. She goes willingly, appearing pleasant once again.
“Thanks, Calvin,” she tells him when he pushes in her chair.
With those two words, the remaining tension melts off him. He mashes his eyes closed as a genuine smile eases onto his handsome face, leaving him with an expression resembling serenity.
After kissing the top of her head, he takes the seat beside her, and we eat.
During the meal, she’s not totally lucid and doesn’t address or acknowledge me other than a tight grin.
But she’s calm and seems happy.
From what I know of this horrible disease, I think that’s the best we can hope for.
Yes.We.
I’m going to help him through this in any way he’ll let me.
Once dinner ends, I offer to clean up and put away the leftovers while he helps her get ready for bed.
With the kitchen clean, I grab my phone to turn off the music. There’s a text message from my friend.
