Chapter 14 The Day I Laughed Again #3
"The pig was simply overwhelmed by my athletic prowess." Rafael divides the peeled orange into segments, puts them on his plate, and eats one. "It's not every day you meet a champion of such distinguished lineage."
"Distinguished lineage covered in mud." I pick a stray bit of peel off his sleeve and add it to the small heap beside his plate.
"The mud was strategic." He reaches for another orange segment. "It made me more aerodynamic."
"That's not how mud works." I try to keep a straight face and fail when he examines his damp trouser cuffs as though considering my objection.
"How would you know? You weren't in the enclosure." He offers me an orange segment, holding it out like a peace offering. "You were too busy laughing at my athletic achievements."
I take the orange and eat it, the sweetness bursting on my tongue. The juice runs onto my thumb. I catch it with a napkin, too late to preserve much dignity after teasing him about his.
"I was laughing at you." I set the napkin down, still smiling. "But it felt good. I didn't realize how much I'd missed being ridiculous with you."
Rafael goes quiet. The teasing light in his eyes softens into something else, something that makes my heart beat faster.
"Good." He doesn't try to make it into more than it is. "I'm glad."
The sun has dipped lower, painting everything in shades of gold and amber. Below us, the fair is starting to wind down, families packing up, vendors closing their stalls. The band has shifted to something slower, the music drifting up the hill like an invitation.
I reach for the last piece of cake, then break it between us. He takes his half without checking his phone or glancing toward the road. The afternoon has passed, and he is still here, interested in the things I say even when they don't matter to anyone else.
I can remember why I left and still want this afternoon. I don't need to spoil it to prove I haven't forgotten.
"There's music." Rafael tilts his head toward the fair. "They'll play for another hour at least. If you wanted to stay."
I should say no. I should help him pack up the picnic and drive home and think about what today meant in the quiet of my own room. That would be the careful thing to do.
I'm tired of being careful.
"Dance with me." The words come out before I can second-guess them. "Down there. Before they stop playing."
Rafael's face goes through several expressions too quickly for me to track. Surprise, hope, joy, uncertainty. "You want to dance?"
"I want to dance." I stand and brush crumbs from my dress. "Are you coming or not?"
He is on his feet before I finish the sentence, holding the basket open while I gather the plates. "We can leave this in the car on the way down."
We pack the remaining food, fold the blanket, and return everything to his car.
When we reach the fair again, the music is louder, the beat easy to follow over the chatter around us.
The dance area is nearly empty now, just a few couples swaying in the fading light.
Rafael stops at the edge, his hand open beside mine.
"You're allowed to ask." I tilt my chin toward the couples. "I'm not going to drag you into the middle by your collar."
He offers his hand properly, palm up, a familiar gesture I hadn't realized I missed.
"Serafina." His voice is formal, but his eyes are warm. "May I have this dance?"
I take his hand and follow him onto the patch of grass worn flat by dancing feet. Rafael's hand settles at my waist, tentative, and I step closer, close enough to feel the warmth of him through his shirt.
"Your collar is crooked." I reach up and straighten it, smoothing the fabric flat. "There. Now you look like someone worth dancing with."
"High praise." He draws me into the first turn, careful of my shoes on the grass. "Do I get to keep the ribbon?"
"Don't push your luck." But I'm smiling as I say it, and his hand tightens slightly at my waist.
We dance. The music is slow and sweet, something old that I half-remember from festivals past. Rafael leads with the easy confidence I remember.
I know when he will turn before his hand guides me, and that familiarity almost hurts.
Then he nearly steps on the hem of my dress, corrects himself, and we both laugh.
"Don't tell anyone." He leans close enough that only I can hear him. "I have a reputation to protect now."
"As what?" I follow him through the next turn, smiling before I can stop myself. "The most graceful man in a pig enclosure?"
I rest my head against his shoulder and let myself feel it, this moment, this music, this man who broke my heart and is trying so hard to put it back together.
The song ends. Another one begins. We keep dancing.
"Next time, you can pick me up." I lift my head from his shoulder so he can hear me over the band. "If we go somewhere again. We don't have to meet in separate cars."
His hand stills against my back for a moment. "I'd like that."
He doesn't ask for anything more. He just keeps dancing with me, and I realize what I've done.
I've given him another day to look forward to. Worse, I've given one to myself.