Chapter five Tessa
Chapter five
Tessa
“I wanna see you dance.” The words fly from my mouth before I have a chance to stop them, but now that I think about it, seeing this guy dance seems like the perfect idea. “It’s only fair after the way you were watching me,” I add.
I’m not actually expecting him to go along with it.
He has every right to turn down the suggestion, and even if he does, I’ll probably still tell him my name.
But something about the idea of watching him, in all his backwards-hat glory, stumble through the moves the way I did has a smile spreading across my face.
He chuckles from his place beside me and turns to look over the dance floor.
He watches the crowd for a moment before he takes a long drink of the cherry bourbon and Diet Coke and says, “Alright, darlin’.
You got yourself a deal.” He shakes his head and pulls his hat off, running a hand through his light brown hair before putting the hat back in place. Backwards, just like before.
A light buzzing sensation courses through my veins as I watch him make his way toward the dance floor, and I’m not entirely sure it’s because of the alcohol.
The instructor calls out the next song, “Project” by Chase McDaniel, and I can’t help but laugh as I take another sip of my drink. Two guys who had been at the table with him earlier join the dance floor, smacking him playfully on the shoulder as they fill in on either side of him.
He follows along step-by-step with the instructor as she calls out each count.
Once she has demonstrated the steps, the first beats of the song start to play.
He glances my way with a wide-eyed expression before he laughs and begins to move his hips.
The rest of the room fades away as I watch him, confidence radiating from every move he makes.
I’m so absorbed in him, in the moment, that I almost don’t feel my phone vibrating in my back pocket. I tear my eyes away from him and pull my phone out, smiling when I see “Mom” displayed across the screen. A glance at the time tells me that it’s well past Jake’s bedtime.
“Let me guess,” I say with a chuckle. “Somebody has had way too much sugar, and now he’s bouncing off the walls.”
“He’s had a perfectly decent amount of sugar,” my mom argues, a lightness clinging to her tone. “He wanted to call and say goodnight before he goes to bed.”
I can hear Jake’s little voice in the background, begging to talk on the phone as I set my drink down on the bar and head for the patio area in hopes that it’ll be a little quieter.
“Momma! Me and Pop had popcorn and watched ‘vengers, and Nana made chocolate chip cookies,” he says excitedly, his words stringing together as he tells me about his night.
“That sounds like so much fun, buddy. Are you ready for bed now?” I ask, knots forming in my stomach as a hint of guilt sinks in.
I should be the one tucking him in for the night, not out partying with my friends.
I’m thirty-one years old, not some young college twenty-something.
I have a child whose life depends on me.
“Mhm, yup. Nana made me take a bath, and now I’m gonna go to bed in the big bed, and Nana said she’s gonna read me a story.
” My parents have had a guest room for as long as I can remember.
Mom always said she wanted to make sure that they had a bed available just in case someone needed a place to sleep, and now that room pretty much belongs to Jake.
She swapped out her floral bedding for something more neutral and even added a bookshelf full of children’s books.
“Nana is the best at reading bedtime stories,” I tell him. “I love you so much, buddy. I’m going to be there tomorrow to pick you up, okay?”
“I love you too, but don’t come too early, okay? Pop said he’s making a big breakfast!”
“I won’t pick you up too early,” I promise. Some of the knots twisting in my stomach ease at the clear excitement in my son’s voice. It still feels selfish to enjoy a night out where I can just be myself, but knowing that Jake is having a good time with my parents helps clear away the guilt.
“Sweet dreams, Momma,” he says, his voice quieter now.
“Sweet dreams, buddy. I love you.” I’ve already said it once in the past few minutes, yet I can’t help but repeat it.
Since unexpectedly losing my husband, I’ve made it a point to nurture my relationships with family and friends, ensuring not a day passes where they don’t know how much they mean to me.
Life is far too fleeting to take any amount of time for granted.
He yawns into the phone before passing it back to my mom, and I smile as I hear his little voice announcing that he’s going to go pick out the book for bedtime. By the time we end the call, I’m more than ready to embrace the rest of the night and see where it takes me.