Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
A few weeks later, Aiden was on Starla duty again, not that he minded. It was dance class night, and he wanted to ask June a question. He and his niece lingered at the end of the queue of adoring four year olds until he could finally get a word in. Starla, supremely delighted to have her idol to herself, clung to her leg like a koala.
“June, I was wondering if I could ask a favor,” Aiden began.
“Absolutely,” June said.
“Might want to save your ready agreement until you know what it is first,” Aiden warned.
“No way, I’m all in. What do you need?”
“We’re coming down to the wire on the wedding, and I need remedial dance instruction. Erica and I have been taking lessons together, but I can’t get it. It’s bad, June. It’s very, very bad. Erica knows I’m the world’s worst dancer, and while I have no hope of turning into Fred Astaire, I’d like to not humiliate one or both of us.”
“Sure. Is now a good time?”
Their combined glance fell on Starla. “I think I can get about an hour from her with a little help from Bluey on my phone,” Aiden said as he reached for it. “An hour’s probably not enough to whip me into shape but, realistically, I’m not certain there’s enough time in the known universe for that.”
June tsk’d. “That’s enough negative talk, Dr. Lawrence.”
“Not negative, realistic. I know my limitations,” Aiden said.
June took his hands and shook them out between them. “Clear away the mental clutter because the first step to being a good dancer is confidence.”
“That rules me out, then,” Aiden said.
She shook his hands harder. “You need to channel it from somewhere else. You’re an emergency room doctor. Clearly you do well in high-pressure situations. You keep a cool head, don’t fall apart, right?”
“Yes, but…”
“No buts. Anytime you feel uncertain about dancing, you’re going to pretend it’s a trauma that only you with your infinite skills can handle. Picture me as a chest that needs cracked, a tracheotomy that needs performed with only a discarded pen tube.”
He grinned. “You’ve really got to stop getting your medical knowledge from reruns of Grey’s Anatomy, ” he said.
“Are you trying to tell me you’ve never disarmed a live bomb while bantering with the other sides of your love triangle?”
“Only like once or twice,” he said. She had worked to make him refocus so that he was smiling now, an easy, confident smile. He could do this, he could totally do this.
June positioned their hands so Aiden was in the lead. “On the dance floor, you’re in charge.”
“You mean unlike in real life, right?” he couldn’t help but add. Erica was far and away the one in charge of their house. All decisions and flow of information went to her. In the scheme of building a home, Aiden had become nothing but a walking checkbook.
June pressed her lips together, politely refraining from answering.
“Very diplomatic, June,” he said, nodding his approval.
“Lots of people get stressed out with the home building process, Aiden. I can’t imagine adding wedding planning on top of that,” June said.
“I know,” Aiden agreed. It was why he was giving Erica a pass, because he knew how much stress she was under right now. He didn’t add his secret fear, that this was only the beginning, that he was seeing a secret unforeseen side of Erica that would emerge whenever life became stressful. And, really, when was life ever not stressful? He needed to talk to her about it, but so far his brain hadn’t been able to conjure a way to bring it up without either putting her on the defensive or dogpiling on extra stress.
“Now,” June said, snapping his mind back from where it had strayed. “As the one in charge, you’re going to be the one to begin. You’re going to tell my body where to go. That’s why you need to be confident, because I’ll respond to you. So you’re going to start with this leg on the beat and I’ll move accordingly.”
Aiden had doubts, grave doubts, that they would be able to pull off what she made sound so easy. Not because he didn’t trust her, but because he didn’t trust himself. But when June started the music and he took a step forward, she took a step back, automatically aligning herself to his gait. For a moment he remained so busy trying to focus on the beat and remember the steps that the other instructor had given him that it took him a while to realize he was doing it; he was dancing. In his mind, they looked like contestants on Dancing With the Stars, all easy grace and gliding precision.
Confident now, he whirled June like a pro. It was so easy. Why had he ever thought dancing was difficult? June, smiling, looked like she was having as much fun as he was. But all too soon, Bluey lost Starla’s captive attention. She stood and stretched and then began following them around the room until Aiden bent and swept her up, twirling her instead.
“Thanks, June,” he said, cuddling Starla close and giving her a squeeze that made her squirm and giggle. “This helped so much. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Back at you, and of course I mean that literally,” she said, her cheeks tinting slightly pink. They hadn’t talked about that day at the water after it happened. Aiden tapped his finger to her cheek and gave her a smile.
“That’s why the put the MD at the end of my name,” he said lightly.
“Well, you’re definitely set here. You’ll have to let me know what Erica thinks of the new and improved Fred Astaire in her life.”
“She’ll probably send you a thank you note. My lack of skills have been a slight point of contention between us,” along with everything else lately, he added silently. He would be glad, glad, glad when the wedding and house things came to an end and life could get back to normal. Or maybe the new normal, as husband and wife.
After wrangling Starla into her car seat, he drove her home and handed her over to his sister. Impatient to show Erica his new and improved skills, he diverted to her apartment and let himself in. She sat on the couch staring at her new go-to, a home design social media site that Aiden had started to resent for the many, many new ideas it gave her.
“Hey, I was thinking about….” she began without looking up.
“Nope, let’s dance,” he said, grasping her hand and pulling her up to stand in front of him. He found some music on his phone and tossed it onto the couch. Remembering June’s advice, he started on the beat with the correct leg, expecting the magic to happen with Erica as it had with June. Except it didn’t. Erica started with the same leg as he did, causing them to bonk knees painfully, which made them both bend over to rub their aching knees, which in turn made them bonk heads. Erica fell back onto the couch.
“What the what, Aiden?” she snapped, now rubbing her knee and her head.
“Sorry, I was practicing dancing and I thought it would go better this time.”
Erica forced a deep breath and dropped her hands. “Let’s start over. You know I don’t do so well with surprises, and I didn’t know you were coming over tonight and, I…” she trailed off and took another breath. “Let’s start over.” Forcing a smile, she held out her hand to him. Smiling in return, he took it and pulled her gently up beside him.
“Let’s try again.”
She nodded.
He waited for the beat again, started on the leg June had told him, and once again clunked into Erica. Gentler this time, but still. “I’m supposed to lead,” he said.
“Then lead,” Erica said.
“I am. This is the leg that leads,” he said.
“No, I’m pretty sure it’s the other one.”
“It’s not.”
“I can’t start on the other leg. I always start with this one,” Erica said.
“Well I always start with this one,” he said.
“Since when?”
“Since I learned the proper way to dance,” he said. “Please just try it this way.”
“I’ll try,” she said, teeth gritted.
And she did, she really tried, but she kept taking over, trying to force him one way while he was trying to force her another. After about a half hour, they gave up in defeat again and sank to the couch.
“I don’t understand. I thought it would be so much better now,” he said.
“We’ll keep practicing,,” Erica said, patting his arm, her attention already straying back to the housing boards where she’d placed multiple ideas for their new house.
Aiden stared at her unabashed, a new realization gripping him. The difference in dancing hadn’t been June; it was Erica. She wasn’t willing to let him lead, even in something as simple as their first dance. “Erica,” he began.
She turned to him, distracted. “Hmm?”
He wasn’t seeing her as she was now, however. He was seeing her as she had been, the little girl whose father left, ripped from her home and everything she knew. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I really love you.”
“I really love you, too,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder.
“I’m not…I’m not your dad, you know. I would never leave you, ever.”
“I know that, Aiden.” She smiled and leaned forward to kiss him. He didn’t realize until later that the smile hadn’t reached her eyes.