Chapter 18 #2
“Sometimes.” She scooped up another bite from her skillet. “My schedule has been frenetic for years. Being back here reminds me what life is like when you have time to breathe. I could get used to this. And I will, someday in the not-too-distant future when I retire.”
Retire?
The beautiful, lithe young woman across from him was thinking of retiring?
“Aren’t you too young to have retirement on your mind?”
“No. Dancers have a short shelf life. After you subject your body to abuse for decades, it starts to protest. Most ballet dancers stop performing around the age of thirty-five. I’m not too far away from that number.”
“What comes next?”
“TBD. But I have a business degree, thanks to classes I took whenever I could squeeze them in. My company has a program that helps dancers prepare for life after ballet, and I took full advantage of it from the get-go.”
No moss grew under this woman’s feet.
Impressive.
Before he could respond, Isabel came up for air and rejoined the conversation. “Did you ever dance in Sleeping Beauty, Miss Devyn?”
She refocused on his daughter. “Yes, I did.”
“Did you play Aurora?”
“I did.”
“Gramp said you might have. Remember, Dad?”
“Yes.” Along with his grandfather’s assumption that if she had, she’d knocked the audience dead.
Hard to dispute the older man’s conclusion.
“I wish I could see you dance in a real ballet.” Isabel swirled a piece of pancake in the pool of syrup on her plate, her expression wistful.
“Well, if you ever come to New York, let me know and I’ll get you tickets.”
“Do you think we could go there sometime, Dad?”
“I doubt it, honey. New York is on the other side of the country.” And far away from Hope Harbor, in every respect.
Isabel’s face fell. “Shoot.”
“I’ll tell you what.” Devyn leaned closer to her.
“Some night after rehearsal, if you and your grandfather can stay later, I’ll bring my toe shoes and do a couple of short dances for you.
I exercise and do barre work almost every day at my sister’s house to keep my muscles in condition, but it would be good for me to do some real dancing too. How does that sound?”
“Awesome!” Isabel’s countenance brightened. “What’s your favorite ballet?”
As the two of them launched into an animated discussion while they continued to eat, he sat back and enjoyed the show.
Isabel’s new enthusiasm was no less than a miracle, as far as he was concerned. An answer to his prayers, for which he gave thanks daily.
Since the night she’d auditioned for Oklahoma, she’d been more like her old self. He owed a huge debt to Gramp for suggesting they encourage her to try out. She was enjoying every minute of the experience.
He was also indebted to the woman across from him for going out of her way to make Isabel feel welcome. Much of the credit for the transformation in his daughter was due to her. What little girl would be immune to the kindness and warmth that radiated from her?
For that matter, what lonely widower would, either?
She’d brought a breath of fresh air into both their lives.
The downside to that?
One day soon, she’d be gone.
And Isabel wasn’t the only one who was going to miss her.
As their meal wound down and Devyn signaled for the check, he quashed his sudden melancholy, straightened up, and inspected what was left of her breakfast.
One bite of pancake remained on her plate, and two meager forkfuls of food were left in her skillet.
Wow.
This woman was a serious eater.
“Surprised?”
He looked up to find her grinning at him. “The truth? Yes.”
“I can pack it away. However, this was a splurge breakfast. I doubt I’ll be hungry again for the rest of the day.” She handed her credit card to the server.
“I’m full too.” Isabel played with her last bite of pancake, then set her fork down. “I can’t eat any more.”
“You did great.” Aaron squeezed her shoulder. It was encouraging to see her appetite returning too.
Once Devyn signed the check, they left the restaurant and strolled back to the Grace Christian parking lot, Isabel once again taking the lead on the conversation.
At her car, Devyn turned to him. “Thank you again for coming to my rescue this morning.” She extended her hand.
He took it, folding her slender, graceful fingers in his. “Happy to help. Thank you for breakfast.”
“It was the least I could do.”
When she smiled up at him, he found himself drowning in a sea of blue.
Man, she had beautiful eyes. Perceptive, intelligent, caring. And they were fringed by indecently long lashes. Was a heavy hand with mascara the explanation, or did she have—
“Well . . .” She gave a gentle tug on her hand, and he forced himself to release it. “I’ll see you at rehearsal later, Isabel.”
“Will you dance for me and Gramp tonight?”
“Why don’t we plan on Tuesday instead, if your grandfather can stay afterward? You can ask him and let me know tonight.”
“Okay. See you later.”
As she slid behind the wheel and started her engine, Aaron guided Isabel to their car.
“That was fun, wasn’t it, Dad?”
“Yes.” He hit the unlock button on his key fob.
“Miss Devyn is nice, isn’t she? And pretty.”
“Yes.” He pulled the back door open. “Climb in.”
She complied, settling into the booster seat. “I’m glad I’ll get to see her again tonight. Are you coming?”
“I wasn’t planning to. I’m not in the show, and you and Gramp won’t miss me.”
“I like it when you come. I bet Miss Devyn would too.”
What?
He shifted his features into neutral. “Why do you say that?”
“I think she likes you.”
If his daughter’s take was accurate, the attraction wasn’t only on his end.
Warmth spread outward from his core, generating an ill-advised surge of happiness.
“I guess I’m just a likeable guy.” He tapped Isabel’s nose, striving for a jocular tone.
But as he walked around the car to take his place behind the wheel, the warmth spread all the way to his fingertips, leaving a tingle in its wake.
So even though the left side of his brain was flashing a red alert, come Tuesday night he might have to find an excuse to show up at rehearsal—and enjoy a private show afterward.