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“How do you mean?”
“When he realizes how many people he’s impacted. When he finds her closing up the library, and she doesn’t recognize him, which is the worst of that movie, in my opinion. Think about it, Ben, the three of us have no idea how many people’s lives we’ve impacted from hosting a retreat, putting our heart and souls into it, years of continually making sure it’s the perfect resting place for weary people. Who knows what trajectories we turned because they came here. No, I’d have been up here living by myself. I’d see the family at BBQs. Jett would come visit sometimes. I’d go to Louisiana every couple of years to see him. That’s it.”
“You’d have married Cora,” I smirk.
He laughs, “Nope!”
“Ya never know.”
Casting a disgusted look my way he reminds me, “I stopped dating her before your mother came back to the South. There’s no way Cora and I would have…” He shudders. “I don’t even wanna think about it.”
We all know how she turned out. My mind returns to Shelby, lumping her into, “Selfish people just get more selfish.”
His gaze travels to the grazing horses as we leave them in our wake. “Over time, we become more of who we are.”
“Unless you want to change.”
He nods once. “Then you gotta do the work.”
My head cocks. “Sounds like they’ve got music playing."
We walk around the structure and approach the front door, greeted by increasing volume, loud enough to shake the door frame. “Is that Jive Talkin’ by The Bee Gees?”
Inside we freeze, jaws dropping.
SIXTEEN
Willow
The moment I see Ben I look around and realize why they are frozen. The entire room is filled with candles of every size. Long slender ones in a candelabra on the dining table. Chunky ones on plates adorn the kitchen island, bookshelves, accent table by the front door. Even every mason jar we painted has one, plus all those we didn't get a chance to paint are illuminated, as well. In the candlelight we are all dancing our asses off.
There are shot glasses on every table, eleven all told including coffee and side. Every bottle from the bar keeps them good company. We have tasted them all, sometimes just but a sip. Like the cinnamon schnapps, for example. That was a bit much for most of us, save for Maggie. It’s her favorite.
Steven is stretching out on a yoga mat, centerstage of the room, wiggling to the music in Downward Dog position. Maggie and Pete are swing-dancing in their sun hats, and Maggie’s is huge — reminiscent of the 1940’s. Pete’s is more something you would see on Safari. The beautiful Brooklyn girls changed into club mini dresses, explaining at the time, “We brought these just in case we went into Atlanta!” “You never know when a party is going to break out!” Marco, in a white linen suit, is standing atop a sofa, barefoot. Dax is in all black, including eyeliner heavy for the occasion, fringed shirt flowing with the dance. Laura is wearing a blue shift dress and comfortable heels. I changed into a sundress of random flowers with spaghetti straps and a very low back. Sylvia and Rachel have us all beat with feather boas somebody left behind during a Halloween retreat many years ago, we were told. They tried to give them to us but we said that since they weren't changing clothes they needed them. Every single one of us is five sheets to the wind!
Rachel hurries over, “Oh no, my two favorite men in the whole wide world, were you hoping for dinner? We forgot about it.”
I was already standing by the door, so I hold my hand out to Ben. "Dance with me!”
He looks at his Dad, frowns, takes my hand, and spins me toward him. Up against his body I plummet. “It's like slamming against a car,” I announce. The Brooklyn girls scream in happiness, dancing their fun-loving hearts out. In fact, nobody stopped but me and Rachel.
Jaxson decides to join in, pulling his wife into his arms. As if in an attempt to drive my heart to dangerous limits, the playlist changes to More Than A Woman, also by the Bee Gees. Suddenly, I'm slow dancing with the most gorgeous man. My chin upturns to find him gazing down at me. Our hips swing, bodies moved by the music. A delicious warmth launches into every cell that I am. My heart races ahead of our foot steps and, struggling to make sense of it all, I lay my head on his chest, resting in the nook his thick neck and rock-hard shoulder afford. His arms secure around me, fingers spread until they both find the base of my lower back, half on skin, half fabric. He stays there as we dance, holding me close.
Ben smells like soap and fresh air, and I take advantage of the close proximity to inhale and drink him in while I can. I smile as he begins to sing some of the lyrics, absolutely melting me.
Here in your arms I found my paradise
My only chance for happiness
And if I lose you now,
I think I would die
Forever imprinted in my mind, is this song, this moment. And we dance like this until it ends. When it does, I almost feel I will die. Taking its place is a faster one, Brick House by The Commodores, and I push him away, forcing us to separate lest I do something very inappropriate. The room around us goes nuts, everyone singing the lyrics and gyrating emphatically.
She’s a brick…house.
She’s mighty mighty.
