Page 38 of Distant Shores (Stapled Magnolias #2)

IRELAND

S pring turned to summer, and the campus of Live Oak had never been so full of color.

Or maybe I was just seeing it again.

Interest in my ballroom class skyrocketed among the senior citizens of coastal Alabama after a tentative announcement was made about a greenhouse fundraising gala—the big event we hoped would raise enough money for a huge, accessible greenhouse right here on campus.

“Come Away with Me” by Norah Jones played through the speakers after everyone got warmed up and paired off.

“Think this is the one?” Delly asked from beside me with her signature bright smile.

“Could be,” I replied. “Though they seem to favor the classics more.”

“Pssh. This is basically a classic.” She sighed dramatically. “Oh, how it makes me yearn, Miss Indy.”

I snorted and took a sip of water, hiding my smile.

We were trying to pick one perfect song for the biggest fundraising portion of the gala—the “dance card.” It had been Miss Lenny’s idea to create dance cards for everyone attending the gala, and it’d been Liem’s idea to ask his brother Vinh, who happened to be a software engineer and very into all things computers, to create a website where people could reserve dance card spots by providing a donation to the greenhouse project.

It was the first Saturday of June, and this was our fourth ballroom dance class. May had passed in blurry strokes of planning for the gala, my phone calls, emails, and meetings with Ari so frequent that it felt like one long conversation that never ended.

The same went for the notes between me and Adair. We hadn’t gone a day without writing or answering a new note for each other. Even after so many weeks, my heart still jumped in excitement when I saw one. And when I saw him.

He was part of most of those moments. The crystal-clear ones that punctuated the blur of productivity. The ones I replayed in my mind so often that they had a real chance at becoming core memories, and the slightest thing could make me fall into a reminiscence of them.

The faintest whiff of coffee, and I heard Adair’s knock on my bedroom door.

He’d started that routine after he’d somehow found out that my drink was lukewarm by the time I’d gotten to it.

So now, a single knock told me it was ready.

I’d tried to tell him it wasn’t necessary, that it was too much trouble, too much expense, and the next morning he hadn’t gotten one.

The disappointment had been unexpected and visceral, but I’d shoved it down nicely, like the pro that I was at such things.

My eyes flicked to the studio door as I remembered finding a sweet tea waiting for me right outside it that day, with a little ballerina duck waiting beside it.

Wednesday nights, I cooked dinner. On the weekends, the Jacks siblings took turns with breakfast .

I remembered every meal, every moment of shared laughter, like when Delly marched to her room with her new blackout curtains and hung them as aggressively as a person could hang curtains.

At each meal I had in the cafeteria, I colored on a napkin beside Dad and remembered his easy smile as he shared inside jokes with Wilbur.

At night, when anxiety lay beside me and I couldn’t sleep, I’d take my stack of notes from my bedside drawer and lay them across my comforter. Then I’d weigh the things I’d learned from them about Adair against what I’d observed myself.

I didn’t have braces until I was twenty.

I pictured his smile.

Yes, the orthodontist tried to file my canine down. I stopped him.

I imagined not seeing that sharp tooth when he played card games with Delly at night, biting his lip as he tried to keep a poker face, and was glad he’d campaigned to keep it.

Our parents aren’t worth mentioning.

He never mentioned them.

Once I was relaxed enough to get under the covers and try to sleep again, I’d imagine him lying underneath that gorgeous quilt just a few feet away, and that usually soothed me to sleep.

Among other things.

“You’ve got it!” Delly encouraged, bringing me back to the room as she guided a mom-and-daughter pair with a happy giggle. She’d caught onto it all so fast that she’d become my assistant of sorts, breezing around the room and helping students remember their steps in that easy way of hers.

Like Mrs. Hammond, who had better technique than any of us but tired easily and sometimes lost interest ten minutes into class. But she still showed up every week with her husband, who helped her navigate the highs and lows.

So far, I’d kept things simple, sticking to a rotation of songs in 3/4 time, but today I encouraged the class to start improvising, following their partner’s lead.

It was going… not great, exactly, but Delly carried the morale of the class on her shoulders, helping everyone laugh through their missteps.

Delly met my eyes across the room, an automatic smile coming to her face, her resemblance to Adair making it almost hard to look at her.

But it did make me remember the looks. The glances across the kitchen table that lasted longer and longer. The unmistakable feel of having his dark-framed hazel eyes on me when he thought I wasn’t looking.

Miss Lenny squeezed my shoulder, and my heart skipped.

Just like it did when he called me Indigo Girl.

“This song has my vote for the gala, dear,” Miss Lenny said. “I have a little bet going with the ladies about our dance cards. It’d be ideal to choose sooner rather than later so I can perfect my routine.”

The dance cards for the gala were our primary fundraiser. Anyone could log in to our website and fill a space on someone’s dance card by making a donation. The highest “bidder” got to have the final dance of the gala.

“You’re gonna lead, aren’t you?” I asked her, smiling wryly.

She raised a penciled eyebrow at me. “Only way to get a damn thing done, dear. Now, have you and Ari finalized the date yet?”

The note left on my longboard last night danced across my memory.

Young at heart, old everywhere else!

Do you have a date for the gala yet?

P.S. How do sandwiches at the beach sound for dinner tonight?

P. P. S. Please say yes, or

Delly will cry (threat)

P. P. P. S. I will too (promise)

A gust of rose-and-menthol-scented air blew my hair back as Miss Lenny swept Delly up, and they started waltzing a circle around me.

And… yep. Miss Lenny was leading.

This was the first week she hadn’t brought a new guy to class with her. Her boyfriend had moved out since their last vacation together, and it was the talk of the Locc.

She did not seem torn up about it at all.

“I called dear Ari last night, and she said you had just about nailed it down,” Miss Lenny said, leading Delly in a dramatic twelve-count spin, her gaze on me and her steps perfect. “I was hoping that meant today.”

“We should have it settled by tomorrow at the latest,” I said.

Class devolved into mostly silliness as we reached the end, but everyone was having such a good time that I silenced my alarm that signaled the end of class and let them continue on for a few more minutes.

There were grumbles and complaints when I cut off the music ten minutes later, but I ignored them.

I was ready to get out, and was feeling more claustrophobic in this room, the mirror and the walls seeming to press in.

I’d hardly been out on my board lately, so caught up in my work and not exactly wanting to be out of the house as much anymore.

“Looks like a storm’s rolling in this week,” Delly said, smiling at her phone as she fell into step beside me.

“Why do you sound happy about the beginning of hurricane season?”

Bypassing the locker room where I’d normally wash up and change, I strolled down the Locc’s hallways in my dance heels toward the back door.

“Because sand dollars!” she said. “Plus, my helmet came in the mail yesterday. Or helmets, I should say.” She nudged my shoulder. “I think my brother ordered one for you too. And my board should be in soon. Thanks for sending those links.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, not addressing the bit about Adair buying me a helmet.

Why didn’t that surprise me? And better yet, why didn’t it annoy me?

Delly’s gaze drifted out the window, and she gasped before pushing her face against it and cupping her hands around her eyes. “No way,” she whispered, the words muffled by how close her lips were to the glass.

I couldn’t see around her, so I stepped to the other door and looked out.

Chairs dotted the courtyard’s green space beside the fountain, surrounded by well-kept flowers of all colors and varieties and several towering oak trees.

Looked like the chair yoga class moved to outside today. They usually met in the rec room on the first floor of Zinnia House.

“Excuse me, young ladies,” Miss Lenny said from behind us, her yoga mat under her arm. “Ugh, they didn’t even wait. Good thing I’m more advanced and follow my own program. ”

Delly peeled back from the door, her gaze flicking over Miss Lenny quickly before she pushed open the doors.

I pressed my lips together, holding back a laugh. Delly still looked suspicious of our neighbor despite the friendship they’d formed since the incident, as if she was waiting for Miss Lenny to strip down at any moment. Or maybe Miss Lenny’s nakedness was one of her core memories too.

“I’m gonna, umm…. go,” Delly said, grimacing and leaving without another word.

Cheeks hurting from holding back my smile, I looked back out the window. Miss Lenny unfolded her mat beside an empty chair and seamlessly fell into the same pose as the rest of the class.

It wasn’t until everyone sat down in their chairs as they changed poses that I saw him.

Adair, in his usual baggy T-shirt plus a pair of athletic shorts, sitting in front of a row of pink rosebushes.

I shuffled to the side as my heart skipped, then leaned my shoulder against the door as I kept watching.

He was listening attentively to the instructor, his hands resting on his long legs in front of him. His broad chest rose in a deep inhale, and he arched his back. On the exhale, he curled forward, his spine rounding.

Cat-cow poses.

My mouth went bone dry as they went through pose after pose. Adair didn’t look like a beginner at all.

Had he been doing these classes these last few Saturdays? I knew he liked to exercise on the weekends. We usually crossed paths at Zinnia House, but I just assumed he’d been going to the gym.

By the time the instructor directed them into some sort of modified warrior pose, I wasn’t the only one watching him.

The women on either side of him were sneaking glances out of the corners of their eyes, and a couple were flat out sitting back in their chairs, legs crossed like they were waiting for brunch, watching him.

He was completely oblivious, his eyes closed as he focused on his breathing.

God.

My phone buzzed from the pocket of my dance skirt, and I took it out without looking at it, begging that image to make itself another new core memory.

I eventually forced myself to unlock my phone and read the new email from Ari.

To: Ireland Sewell

From: Arizona Thames

Subject: Gala July 5. It’s a GO.

The body of the message contained nothing but her signature.

Love,

Ari

There was my answer. In just five weeks, we’d have our gala.

And now I knew what to tell Adair the next time he asked.