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I am standing next to the wall, thinking about the conversation I had with my brother, Silas, on Friday evening.Haven spent an hour talking to him on the phone, telling him about my dress and what she has been up to in daycare. She told him about the friends she has made and how a girl in her daycare room wants to learn sign language. Haven has taken it upon herself to teach this little girl herself.
When she was finally finished, she handed the phone to me and he asked if I would be willing to let Haven spend the weekend with him, Emerson, and Asia, my foster sisters. The knot in my stomach grew tight, and asked if I would be able to think about it. It’s not that I don’t trust them with her, the problem is I never know when his parents will stop at the house he shares with Emerson and Asia. What if they stopped by to visit their kids and they see her and take her?
He understood, explaining there was no rush, and to let him know when would be a good weekend, if I agree to let Haven stay with them.
That request is all I have thought about since the question left Silas’s lips. Well, all that I have thought about since Atlas introduced himself and asked me if I wanted to dance. And who am I to turn down this beautiful man, with dimples as deep as the Grand Canyon? I accept and at first, we just stare at each other, which you would think would be awkward, but it wasn’t. It was like our souls were connecting, just by looking at each other. His large hand slides around my waist and I run my hand up his shoulders, but closer to his neck. I really want to run my fingers through his dark hair, just to see if it feels like silk, because that is exactly what it looks like, high quality silk.
Once the next song starts to play his body stiffens for a fraction of a second until he is looking toward the DJ booth. A stunning woman is standing there smiling at him. He turns his gaze back to mine, and all he says is, “Sister.”
Thank goodness, I did not want there to be any confrontation tonight, especially since I am technically on theclock. Patricia has made sure to mention to me several times to make sure I take some time to enjoy myself, so I guess that is what I am doing. Because I am definitely enjoying myself.
The song continues, I think I have heard it before, as it sounds familiar, I just can’t place the name of the song or the people who sing it. All I know is that every time the singer sings the chorus, his hand tightens around my waist, pulling me even closer and holding me a little tighter each time. I am definitely going to Google this song when I get home.
The song ends, but Atlas keeps hold of me.
“Keep dancing with me, please,” Atlas whispers in my ear. His voice sounds smoky and warm, like drinking a double shot of whiskey.
“I would love to,” I whisper back, glad I decided to wear the pumps that had the higher heel, because, my word, this fella is tall.
We dance through a couple of more songs, my head has somehow ended up on his chest, listening to the thundering beat of his heart.
When I feel him turn to look behind himself, I raise my head, to make sure I am not needed by Patricia, but I see her and her husband are still spinning around the dance floor. I lean around just a little, so I can see behind him, and what I see not only stops my breath, but I swear I can feel my heart breaking. I look up at Atlas, but the stern look on his face says he is not happy to see this person, which kickstarts my heart and breathing, again.
“Go away, Mallory,” Atlas states sternly, without even looking at her.
“I just wanted one dance, baby, for old time sakes. We were once so good together. Remember our senior prom? Remember how much fun we had together, before, during and after prom? Just give me this one dance, so we can talk,” the girl,who I assume is Mallory, purrs. I can say that this is a person who is automatically joining Trevor on my shit-list. I know what she is doing, and it isn’t cute or alluring. She wants me to know that they either have something going on now and they are on a break, or they were in a long-term relationship, and it ended not too long ago. My money is on the latter, she is too whiny and clingy for it to be something current.
“I want nothing to do with you, and I warned you earlier to stay away from me. Why can’t you just allow me this peace? I have no clue what makes you think this is appropriate when I have explained nothing is ever going to—” he is cut off before finishing his sentence by the older woman I saw him speaking to earlier this evening.
“Atlas, it is good to see you and Mallory working things out. I knew you would come around. She made a mistake, and she has apologized for it many times. You just need to forgive and forget and move on with your lives,” the unknown woman says.
“Mom, I told you to stop. This is not the place for your antics. I am only going to say this one time, so make sure you are both listening, because the next time this happens, I will not be as nice as I have been in the past. Mallory, we are never getting back together as long as there is breath in my lungs, even when that breath is all extinguished, you will still have zero chance with me. What you did was unforgivable. Mom, she cheated and sold stories about me, personal things that should have stayed between us. That is not something I can forgive and forget. But I am moving on. I told you, mom, if you continued down this path, I would lump you with Mallory and delete you from my life, I do love you, but you can’t keep doing this,” Atlas pleads as I just stand there awkwardly. Not knowing whether I should excuse myself or just stand there and feel awkward.
“What do you mean you are moving on?” I don’t know if this comes from his mother or Mallory. Still, he responds with confidence as the words spill from his lips.
“As you both can see I am dancing and spending time with this beautiful woman, yet you both still decided to come over and interrupt our time together,” sounding disappointed that we were still not swaying to the music.
“Oh, I didn’t even realize you were standing there, dear. My name is Samantha Kensington, I am Atlas’s mother, and you are?” She doesn’t hold her hand out to shake with mine, just uses a tone as if I am beneath her. I have a feeling she already knows who I am.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Kensington, my name is Indya Sterling.” I try to say it with as much respect as possible, because now that she mentioned her name, I know she is the one that set up this entire charity event. I hold out my hand for her to shake and she scrunches her nose in disgust.
“I’m Mallory, Atlas and I have dated since high school,” Mallory throws in, not wanting to be left out of the conversation happening between all of us.
“Hello,” I nod. Then, just when I think the night could get any more uncomfortable for me, Samantha starts speaking again, and her words crush me.
“Indya Sterling. Are you the person that was doing all those hand signals up on stage earlier when Riverside Financial made their speech?”
“Yes, ma’am, Mr. and Mrs. Moore hired me to sign and interpret for Mrs. Moore as she is deaf. I was using sign language to interpret everything being said, so she could understand the conversation. I like to say some people hear with their ears and others hear with their eyes. I am a sign language interpreter, and people hire me to be their ears,” the nerves in my voice give away that she intimidates me. I hear Mallory giggle and when I turnto look at her, she has an evil smirk on her face. Yep, definitely adding her to my Trevor shit-list.
“Atlas, please do not tell me you are thinking of moving on with hired help! Do you know what that could do to our family’s reputation in this town? My word, I raised you better than to think that you don’t have better options. Here, dance with Mallory and talk a bit, I am sure there are things that need to be said between the two of you. Indiana, you should go and find your employers before they give you a bad review on Yelp.”
The way that she called me the wrong name, on purpose, I suspect, and the snarl in her voice when she told me to find my employers, was it for me.
This is something I have dealt with my entire life. Being talked down to, being told I am not good enough, pretty enough, smart enough, just not enough. There is only so much one person can take, and I guess I have hit my limit.
I turn to look at Atlas, the vein in neck is pulsing, his jaw is ticking so fast that I know he is grinding his teeth. When I start to tell him that I should go, he stops me, making my eyes widen and my breath catch. “Her name is Indya, and you know that, Mom. Please do not speak to her that way again. It is not your business who I spend my time with, nor is it yours, Mallory. I need both of you to step away from us now. If you continue this behavior, I will have to take measures to ensure it doesn’t happen again. Mom, I love you, but I cannot keep dealing with this, especially during the season. If you call, I will not answer; if you text, I will not respond; if you come to my door, I will not let you in. I will also inform security to restrict access. Mallory, if you contact me or come near me, I will consider a restraining order. I hope you both understand and respect my boundaries. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
I can tell he has never spoken this way to his mother before, and I doubt she has ever been left speechless. Mallory’sface is priceless; she can’t decide whether to be hurt and cry or to lash out in anger. They both turn and disappear into the crowd. I look into his jade green eyes, still in shock, still speechless.
