Chapter Twenty-Three
Twenty-Three
A few hours later Kyle was in the school cafeteria, bearing witness to what had to be the most awkward of events: a middle school dance. Since the dance was associated with the Holiday Cup, being a chaperone was part of his job that weekend.
The decorating crew, headed up by Rosie, had transformed the space. All the tables were covered in paper cloths and pushed along the perimeter of the room, a profusion of streamers hung from above, the fluorescents had been lowered while special lamps rotated soft colorful lights around the whole space. A young DJ, probably a kid from the high school, was playing some mix of pop and hip-hop. There was a popcorn cart in one corner, a shaved ice machine in another. It was a pretty sweet setup for a dance. The only thing missing was the dancers.
Loads of kids were there, including those who’d traveled from out of town to participate in the tournament, they just weren’t dancing. Most had made an effort to step up their wardrobe for the night, though sneakers were clearly the thing now in these situations, for boys and girls alike. As Kyle wandered around the room he watched them sitting or standing in small groups, staring at phones or shuffling their feet and making nervous chitchat. When he spotted Casey and Rosie organizing trays of food on a large table, he headed that way. Casey wore the same flattering navy dress he’d seen on Thanksgiving, her hair down, smooth and wavy. He was glad he’d decided to leave his hat at home and go with another one of his dad’s button-downs.
He walked up to the table and asked them if he could help.
“Not unless you can get people to start dancing,” Rosie said. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a complicated bun that involved braids, and she wore a short green dress and white sneakers.
“Don’t worry, Rosie,” Casey said. “Someone will get out there soon, and the rest will follow.”
“I hope so.”
Kyle scanned the food trays: cookies, squares of pizza, mini cupcakes, fresh fruit cups… He looked at Casey. “You brought the fruit, didn’t you.”
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Someone will eat it.”
“I had some,” Rosie said.
“See?” Casey said.
He laughed.
“Hey, Coach,” Rosie said. “Doesn’t Ms. McCray look nice tonight?”
Kyle could see the blush on Casey’s face even in the dim light. “Yep. She sure does.”
Rosie smiled wide and started backing away from the table. “I’m going to check in with the DJ.”
Once she was gone Casey said, “I think she’s going to take it very personally if no one dances tonight.”
Kyle hadn’t talked to her since the awards presentation at the rink. After they’d helped each other through it, Dad and Wyatt appeared, and they’d gone their separate ways. “How’re you doing after all that today?” he asked her.
“Okay,” she said. “It was incredibly sweet. But it was hard.”
He nodded. That about summed it up. “I’m really glad you were there with me,” he said.
“Me too.”
She was looking him in the eye and giving him a small smile, and Kyle got the feeling that something had shifted between them. He didn’t know what exactly, or why, but she’d been different since he told her about Wyatt and Boston. Less guarded with him.
Will and Ben wandered over to the table then. Will wore a light sweater with dark pants, and Ben had gone with a tuxedo T-shirt under a blazer.
“You guys look great,” Casey told them.
“Thanks,” Will said.
Ben jutted his chin toward Kyle. “You got that drip, Coach.”
Kyle looked down at his shirt, expecting to find something that didn’t belong there.
“That means you look good,” Casey said.
“Oh. Thanks. You guys look drip too.”
“That’s not how it goes,” Ben said, shaking his head and helping himself to a cookie.
“Whatever,” Kyle said. “Why don’t you two go out there and ask some people to dance, get this thing going.”
They both cast dubious glances toward the empty dance floor.
“Maybe you should get it going, Coach,” Ben said.
“No one wants to see that, Landy.”
“Come on. You can’t be that bad.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Is Coach a bad dancer, Ms. McCray?” Will asked, an impish smile on his face.
Casey was stacking paper cups next to a punch bowl. “No, he’s not.”
The boys raised their eyebrows at him, as if to ask what his next excuse would be.
While he was trying to come up with it, the DJ put on the next song. A slow one. “Is it just me,” Kyle asked the boys, nodding his head toward Casey, “or did that sound like an invitation to dance?”
“It sounded like an invite to me,” Ben said.
“Definitely,” Will said.
“No,” Casey said. “It was not an invitation.”
“If you guys go dance,” Ben said, “we promise to get out there too.”
“Deal,” Kyle said. He held a hand out to Casey.
She started shaking her head.
“You opened this door,” he said. “Let’s show them how it’s done.”
She looked at the dance floor, then at the boys. “You promise you’ll get out there?” she asked them.
Ben nodded.
“Promise,” Will said.
“Okay. One song.” She reached for Kyle’s hand.
As happy as he was she’d said yes, he couldn’t help questioning this whole idea as he led her onto the floor because heads turned their way. Kids and adults, watching them with wide eyes and nudging each other. He pushed them back into the blur of his periphery and focused on Casey’s hand in his. At one point he felt the slightest resistance, like she was second-guessing this too, but he held tight, and she stayed with him. When they got to the center of the floor, he stopped and turned to her.
Her gaze started to drift around the room.
“That’s a bad idea,” he said. “Just look at me.” When she did, he smiled. “I know I was never good enough at this, but I’ll try not to embarrass you.”
She didn’t smile back, just tilted her head. “You never embarrassed me, Kyle. And you were always so much better than good enough.”
There was a lot to unpack there. It was nice to hear, but she’d said it with such sadness, or regret. He didn’t have time to examine it further though. She slipped her right hand into his left, placed her other hand on his shoulder, and then they were dancing.
They were a little distant and stiff initially, at least he was. But once they settled into the rhythm of the music, he felt himself relax.
“Do you think they’ll live up to their promise?” she asked, looking up at him. The gentle lights played across her face, her hair, her dress.
“They better. Or they’ll be doing daily doubles all vacation.”
He saw and heard her laugh, and he felt it too. Felt her body vibrate under his hands before she stepped a little closer, like she was relaxing into it as well. That’s when he inhaled a powerful whiff of that lilac shampoo and his head went spinning with a rush of memories. Dancing before his games, the smell of their bathroom after she showered, lying beside her in bed…
“I think they’re starting to do it,” she said.
His eyes snapped open and he pulled his mind back to the here and now. There was movement at the perimeter of the room. Ben traveled from group to group, saying a few words and waving toward the music before moving on to the next one. Rory and Soren were talking with several girls, gesturing to the dance floor, which appeared to be encouraging some of the same from kids around them. Logan was walking somewhere with purpose, hands shoved in his pockets, but then he got lost in the crowd. Will was talking to the DJ, who listened, glanced toward Kyle and Casey, then nodded at Will.
“I’m not sure,” Kyle said, “but I think Will might be asking for another slow one.”
“That makes it more awkward for them,” she said. “Why would he do that?”
The only response he offered was to press his lips together and wait for her to get it, to understand that Will was likely asking for them.
Her eyes grew in understanding. “Oh.”
He thought that might do it, bring the wall back up, and he braced for it. But instead she leaned closer, and when the next song started, just as slow as the one before, she laid her head against his shoulder.
The only thing Kyle wanted then was for time to stand still. For this song to go on forever. He lowered his face, laid their clasped hands against his chest, and tried to soak it up. The way it felt to hold her this close again, like she was tucked into him. He couldn’t have cared less that they were in the middle of a bunch of kids and it might be borderline inappropriate, he slipped his hand farther around her waist so there was no space between them. She must not have minded, because she let him do it.
“Wow,” Casey said, without lifting her head. “Logan and Rosie are dancing together.”
“That kind of figures, don’t you think?”
He heard the smile in her voice when she said, “Yeah.”
Gradually their dancing slowed until they were just swaying together. Kyle didn’t know what would happen after this, didn’t even want to venture a guess. But whatever it was, these few minutes in a middle school cafeteria bathed in muted colors, surrounded by kids and adults trying not to stare, felt like a gift. They stayed that way as the song played its last chorus, signaling the end was near, and through the fade-out. They stayed that way even after it ended and the couples around them separated. Only when the DJ started talking did Casey pull back and lift her face to his.
And it really was Casey looking up at him, his Casey. From before. From before they lost Charlie. Her expression was soft and open and those green eyes were full of light and love. “Kyle, I…”
The DJ was talking about accepting requests and changing up the beat. Kyle angled his head close, focused on her face, so he wouldn’t miss a word. He offered encouragement by lightly squeezing her hands, which, remarkably, were still in his.
“I think you should stay here,” she said. “I mean, even after the season ends.”
He was too scared to react. He didn’t know exactly what he’d been hoping for, but this sounded like so much more.
“I think it’s been good for you to be back here,” she said, rushing now to get it out, raising her voice as the next song—a much livelier one—started. “For you and Danny, Coach and the kids. You could stay here, take on a coaching position, maybe help Mateo and be part of the business again. I mean, if that’s what you want.”
If that’s what you want? She had just named almost everything he very much wanted. He was already nodding. “Yes, Casey,” he said, feeling the smile break across his face. “That’s what I want.”
“Good. But there’s something you should know.” She pulled her hands from his. “I’m leaving. Moving. I’ve accepted a position at a school in Utica starting after the holidays…”
Kyle only caught part of the rest—something about it all coming together in the last few days—because he was trying to catch up. Which was hard to do when he’d just gone from the highest high to the lowest low in a matter of seconds. He had endless questions but summed them all up in one. “Utica?” For years he’d worried he might lose Casey to a more successful guy, grad school, an exciting job in a cosmopolitan place. But… Utica?
“Wyatt’s taking the job in Boston.” She had to yell over the kids singing and bouncing around them. “Even if I have to drag him there kicking and screaming. So I think it’s time for me to go.”
“No. Casey, you don’t have to leave.” He took her hands back in a firm grip. “We can both stay here.”
As sure as he was standing there, he saw it flare up in her eyes. Hope.
“That’s what I want,” he said. “And I think that’s what you want too.”
When she didn’t respond right away, just studied him like she was considering it, his heart soared. He knew they wouldn’t be getting remarried tomorrow and living happily ever after. They had shit to work through, things to explain to each other, it would take time to find stable ground together again. But if she wanted it half as much as he did they would get there.
She blinked, and the hope was gone. “I’m sorry, Kyle. I can’t.” Then she pulled her hands from his and turned to go.
He followed her. “Please, Casey. Just wait…”
She spun around and put a hand on his chest to stop him. “I need to leave now. This weekend has been wonderful, for a lot of reasons, but I’m so tired.”
He could see it now, the strain around her pleading eyes, the way her shoulders curled inward. She looked ready to drop.
“I just want to go home,” she said. “We’ll talk later, okay?” But she didn’t wait for an answer, just walked away.
While Kyle watched as she navigated her way around the bodies on the dance floor, he considered his next step. Two possibilities presented themselves. He could respect her wishes, let it go for tonight. It was probably a bad idea to push too hard now, after the emotional day they’d had. It might cause more harm than good.
She made it off the dance floor but stopped to talk to a few students who’d flagged her down.
The other option was to follow her, which meant forcing a conversation she didn’t want to have. But maybe the one thing he could do for both of them was knock them out of this painful limbo they were in with each other. It was the far riskier option. She might shut down for good. Or, she might be honest with him. When Kyle really thought about it, that’s what he was most afraid of. As much as he thought he wanted it, she might give him the kind of truth that would finally close the door between them forever.
Casey finished up with the students, walked behind the cafeteria line to grab her coat, and headed toward the exit.
“Hey, Coach.”
Kyle turned to see Will standing beside him. “Hey, Will.” He looked back toward the double doors in time to see Casey push through them. They swung back and forth a few times, and he lost sight of her. It was now or never, and now was slipping away.
“You should take a hundred shots, Dad,” Will said.
Kyle was guessing Casey was close to the main doors of the building when Will’s words sank in. Charlie’s words. “What did you say?” he asked Will.
Will wore a big smile on his face. “We took a hundred percent of the shots today.”
Kyle was baffled, wondering how he’d misheard Will. But then he was so overcome with gratitude for the boy standing before him—the one with a big heart who unknowingly provided precious moments of connection to Charlie—that he couldn’t speak right away. When it passed, Kyle smiled back at him. “Thank you, Will.” Then he headed for the double doors, not even bothering to grab his jacket.