Chapter 10 Roan #2
“We could raffle it separately,” Pastor David said. “Maybe fifty dollars a ticket? Keep it affordable so more people can enter, but make it a significant fundraiser.”
“I love that idea,” Grace said, scribbling notes. “Roan, can you talk to Jason? The sooner we can announce it, the better.”
“I’ll tell him the minute I get home,” Roan said. “He’ll be happy to help. I’ll have him call you tomorrow, Aunt Grace.”
The conversation shifted to logistics—how to handle ticket sales, decorations, music. Someone suggested live music, and Kris mentioned a local band that might donate their time. Reese offered to help with decorating, and Mrs. Chen volunteered to coordinate with the auction donors.
“Do you think we need a theme?” Reese asked. “Or just keep it simple and tell people Black Tie Optional?”
“That’s best,” Grace said. “Plus, we don’t have time to put together a whole theme.”
“I don’t know about anyone else, but I’d love an excuse to dress up,” Mrs. Chen said.
“Me too,” Reese said.
Roan was temporarily distracted, imagining Reese in a ballgown.
“This is really coming together,” Grace said, beaming. “I think this gala is going to be truly special. Perhaps even become a tradition.”
The rest of the evening passed quickly, ideas for the gala mixing with personal stories.
By nine o’clock, they’d finished dessert and paid the dinner bill, then gathered their things.
Grace hugged everyone goodbye, making them promise to stay in touch during the week.
Kris headed out first, then Mrs. Chen, then Pastor David.
“You two together?” Walter asked.
“Yes, I’ll get Reese home safe,” Roan said, ignoring Walter’s pointed look.
“All right then. See you next week.” Walter clapped Roan on the shoulder, then leaned in and whispered, “I’m old, but not blind. Go for it. You can get her back.”
Minutes later, it was just Roan and Reese, walking out to his SUV in the December cold, buttoning up their coats.
“That was so fun,” Reese said. “Your aunt is truly a wonder.”
“A force of nature. Like a happy hurricane.”
Reese laughed as he held her door and she slid into the seat.
He hurried about to his side, glancing over at her as he started the engine. “You ready to go home or do you want to get a night cap someplace?”
“It does feel early.” She turned to face him directly. “Would you like to come to my place? We could put some music on. Have a warm drink?”
“I’m in,” Roan said, a little too quickly.
The drive to her house took ten minutes.
They talked about Grace and Walter and all they’d contributed to the community over the years.
Reese told him a little more about Pastor David.
Apparently, he’d lost his wife to cancer before he moved to Sugarville Grove to take the pastor position at the church.
“There’s a sadness in his eyes,” Reese said.
“He’s not seeing anyone?” Roan asked.
“Not that I know of. As far as I can tell, he spends all of his time at church.”
He pulled into her driveway and put the SUV in park, noticing how dark the house was.
“You need a light on your porch,” Roan said. “This isn’t safe.”
“The bulb needs replacing. I keep forgetting about it.”
“I’ll come by tomorrow and take care of it for you.”
She glanced over at him. “That’s kind, but I can do it.”
“I’d like to.”
“Okay, fine. Thank you.”
Roan climbed out and came around to open Reese’s door, offering his hand to help her down, and then escorted her into the house.
“Tea or something stronger?” she asked, once they’d shed their coats. “I could make us a hot buttered rum.”
“Can’t turn that down.”
He followed her into the kitchen. She pulled a container from the fridge, holding it up with a smile. “I always grab a tub from Trader Joe’s at the beginning of the holiday season, hoping to have someone to share it with.”
“I’m happy to be that person.”
He leaned against the counter as she worked, scooping batter into mugs, adding rum and hot water. The air became scented with butter and cinnamon as she stirred. When she handed him a mug, their fingers touched briefly, sending a spark all the way up his arm.
He took a sip. “Perfection.”
“Come into the living room. I’ll turn on the fireplace and put some music on.”
He did as she asked, only too happy to oblige. They settled on the couch in front of the fire, music playing softly in the background.
“Tell me about your house,” Roan said. “How long have you been here?”
“It’s been three years now. My dad left me a nice inheritance. Enough that I could buy a house and open the studio. It all kind of came together. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I would even be in the will.”
“Why do you say that?”
“There were years of tension between us. He was never satisfied with my career, no matter what I achieved. He tried to control every aspect of my life, telling me where I should live, what company I should be dancing with, that I should stay focused on dance, not romance. When I started setting boundaries—visiting less, not sharing anything really, he hated it. My last visit home before he died was awful. We fought about every aspect of my life. I told him I was tired of never being good enough for him and that I no longer cared what he thought. And I left. That was the last time I ever talked to him. He died a few months later. So there were a lot of things said and not said between us. Regrets that will be with me the rest of my life.”
“I’m sorry,” Roan said.
“It’s in the past now, I suppose.” She looked into the fire, her voice hollow. “I was thinking about your mom today.”
“Yeah?” Roan asked. “What about?”
“I practically lived at your house when I could get away from my father’s clutches.
She always made me feel like I could do and be anything I wanted.
Cooking with her, just hanging out, are some of my favorite memories.
” Reese picked up her mug but didn’t drink.
“A couple weeks before she died, I came by after dance class. You went upstairs for something and your mom sat me down at the kitchen table. I thought she was going to tell me that our plan to move to New York together was a bad idea.” Her voice went soft, like she was hearing Caroline’s words again.
“But instead she told me that we had her blessing to go to New York together. She said to stay strong against my dad. Against his controlling ways. ‘Love like you two have only comes along once or twice in a lifetime. Don’t waste it.’”
Roan held his breath, almost frightened by the wave of emotion that came over him.
“I said I was worried you were giving up too much for me. She just shook her head and said you knew your own mind. That you always had.” Reese set down her mug, tears spilling over.
“That it was your dream. To be by my side, supporting me. She said she couldn’t imagine anyone better for her son than me. ”
Tears sprang to his eyes, imagining his sweet mother and Reese sitting at the table together all those years ago. How he wished he could go back in time, even it were only for a moment.
“You were my dream,” Roan said.
She still was.