Page 33 of The Second Dance

Well, she probably is, but maybe she’ll forgive me.

I let my leg rest against hers and she doesn’t move away. “What’d you stop by for?”

Her hands are occupied. One hand cups mine, the other gently bandages my smashed fingers.

She nods at her messenger bag. “I brought a packet over. It talks about the steps you need to take to convert the land into a wildlife sanctuary.”

“Sounds fascinating.”

She looks up at me. This might be the first time I’ve been this close in the light of day. Those eyes are so dark blue they’re almost violet.

“I’m serious, Bo. It’s more complicated than just letting your field go fallow.”

“Okay. Then why don’t you show me?”

She backs up a step and I almost reach out to pull her back in.

“Right now?” She glances down at my hand. “Are you sure?”

“We’ve got about three weeks before planting gets started in earnest. It’s now or never.”

Her eyes narrow at the wordnever, but she shrugs. “Can you drive?”

“I guess we’re about to find out.”

18.

Andy

It’s been almost ten years since Bo and I last took a ride together.

His truck is newer.

And he’s filled out.

But the butterflies are the same.

I’m trying to stay mad. To hold my anger between us like a shield.

But he is the sun and he melts my hard feelings like ice on a hot day.

I keep my mouth busy, prattling on about native trees and grasses, but my thoughts are elsewhere.

We turn onto the lane; he does a funny little jag to the left to avoid a bump in the culvert.

And then I remember.

It was dark that night, most of the landscape was hidden from me.

But my body remembers that bumpy ride down an old country lane. A funny, bouncy little jag to the side.

Same field. Different decade.

We were both running from a shitty high school dance. He offered to take me away from my troubles for a while.

We came out here specifically because he said it was his favorite spot.

He wanted to show me where he was going to build a house one day.

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