Page 10 of In Step

He took a shaky breath and his eyes filled, and I immediately pulled him in for a hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely against my shoulder. “To be honest, it’s been a fucking nightmare at times. Morgan is amazing, but I know you get the dance part of it in ways he maybe can’t.” He pulled back and took my hands. “Losing that felt like I was ripped in half, and then coming back here...” He sighed. “My entire life has been about dance, about ballet. It’s all-consuming. You know that better than most.”

I nodded, knowing exactly how he felt.

“It was everything, and then it was just... gone.” His voice broke a little and a wash of grief passed through his eyes before disappearing just as quickly.

And not for the first time, I wondered how I’d have coped. Not well. I couldn’t do what I did now, forever. I knew that. But the thought of walking away from it...

“I wasn’t sure I was strong enough.” Judah leaned against the coat rack and stared out the open door to Painted Bay. “I was pretty much doing a good job of slowly checking out, drinking, and doing shit I shouldn’t, just so I didn’t have to deal with what was happening. Stupid self-pity, right?”

I shrugged. “Jesus, Judah, you lost a whole way of living. A life, a career, a body. You’re allowed to feel sorry for yourself and grieve it.”

“Yeah, and I did a good fucking job of it.” He pulled a face. “And then Morgan found me feeding fish one night on the pier, and—” His mouth curved up in a wide grin. “Eventually I started to believe again.”

“It’s good to see you happy. I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be content living back home after everything you said about this place.”

“Morgan’s my home, not Painted Bay,” Judah corrected. “Just you wait. One day, Abraham Tyler. One day.”

“Never.” I held my fingers up in the form of a cross. “I am never settling in a small town.”

He laughed and kissed my cheek. “It’s good to have you here, Abe. Take the keys with you. I have another set, and I’ll text you the alarm code.” He squeezed my hands and turned for the door.

I glanced at the thickening shadows creeping over the unfinished path between the studio and the boathouse and followed him out. “You need to get some lights on this. I’ll walk you back?”

He stared at me for a moment, then nodded with a sigh. “They’re on Morgan’s list, and I’ll agree on one condition. You tell Morgan. That way I get a star on this damn performance chart he’s stuck on the fridge aimed at me accepting more help. There’s a prize every week.” He waggled his eyebrows and linked arms, regaling me with what constituted as aprize in the Madden-Wipene household and chatting about the new service dog he was going to be trialling before Christmas.

* * *

Kane

Apart from the rain clearing, nothing had gone right on the mussel farm all day, and everyone was in a foul mood by the time we docked at six, in the dark and much later than usual. We’d let Martha know not to hang around, and the entire wharf was cloaked in evening shadow apart from a glow in Morgan and Judah’s boathouse and another in the studio out back.

Were Judah and Abe still working? I knew Morgan didn’t like Judah pushing himself too hard. Then again, it was none of my business.

We cleaned up and left Patrick talking furtively on his cell while the three of us, and Mack, headed toward Leroy’s SUV, still bitching about the pissy day.

“Is Patrick seeing someone?” I glanced back. “He’s been very close-mouthed about his social life lately. And he’s been on his phone a ton.”

Leroy snorted. “Wasn’t aware he ever had a social life.” He caught the rugby bag Fox threw his way from the SUV.

“Didn’t think you guys had training on a Friday?”

“We normally don’t,” Leroy grumbled. “But our beloved coach has decided we need to win this bloody game tomorrow afternoon against Russell United, and we apparently sucked big hairy donkey balls at Wednesday’s run on the paddock. Like another lot of drills is gonna somehow raise our standard of ball handling from pitifully woeful to hands of steel. If there isn’t a beer in this after we’re done, I’m gonna be fucking ropeable.”

Fox chuckled and pulled Leroy into a kiss. “You’re such a big softy.”

“Idiot.” Leroy wriggled free but failed to hide his lopsided grin.

“Do you need me to take Mack home?”

The dog cocked her head at her name and Fox opened the rear door, waving her in. “Nah, she likes to run with the team. Tires her out.” He headed for the passenger seat, buckled up, and then pinned me with a look. “And here’s a novel idea. Since we’re finishing at noon tomorrow, maybe you could actually leave the bedsit for once and go have some fun.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.”

Fox rolled his eyes and I waved them off. So, I didn’t have a life. There was nothing new about that. I threw my bag over my shoulder and set off up the hill, my attention drawn to the glow in the studio and the upbeat music leaking through the fire door, which had been propped open with a chair.

The closer I got, the slower my steps, until I found myself at a complete stop about ten metres from the open door. I glanced around but I was alone. Beyond the studio lay Madden land and the hill up to the homestead. Judah’s boathouse, the wharf and Painted Bay were out of sight to my right, at the front. And behind me, the road was flanked by a steep, bush-covered bluff up to the township perched on top of the hill.

---