Page 43 of On Dancer
“You do that. And why wait? I’m stealing some warmth now.” With that, he grabbed my hand. We were hardly alone as others were strolling the well-kept historic neighborhood. ButAlexander didn’t seem to mind the potential audience. “You were right. It’s lovely being out of Hollyberry and the possibility of our mothers asking uncomfortable questions.”
“They do have a way of doing that.” I squeezed his hand, a rush of simple pleasure shooting up my arm, warming my chest, and widening my smile.
In another place and time, our mothers would be a minor consideration, and I could have this sort of moment all the time. Against all odds, Alexander seemed to genuinely like me and wasn’t ashamed of our friendship and connection. If not for that whole opposites ends of the country thing, we could be so good together.
We passed a covered booth collecting food and cash donations for local charities. Two bundled-up middle-aged men sat close enough to each other that I was reasonably certain they were a couple. A Bernese Mountain dog in a thick plaid coat lay next to them. I fished my wallet out to put some cash in their box.
“Thank you.” The man closest to the donation box wore glasses not unlike mine when I didn’t have my contacts in. He had a grin that made him look younger. “We appreciate your support.”
“Thanks to your neighborhood for putting this on.” I gestured at the wonderland around us, extravagantly lit houses in all directions, each more fabulous than the last. The house behind us was a grand Victorian with a wide porch and multiple trees in the middle. “It’s pretty incredible.”
“It is. My favorite tradition.” The man gave another smile before starting like he’d been nudged under the table. Like me, he blushed easily, and the glance he gave the other man confirmed my suspicion that they were a couple. “Well, one of my favorites. Have a good night.”
We walked on, but Alexander glanced back at the two men. “I wonder how long they’ve been together?”
“Years likely.” I echoed his contemplative tone. What would it be like to own a house with someone else? Build a life together? There had been a basketball hoop in their driveway. They might even have a kid or two around. A fierce want swept through me. “They’re couple goals.”
“I suppose.” Alexander swung my hand lightly. “You deserve a future like that, Rudy.”
I stopped short in front of another house, this one with a large menorah on the lawn. I didn’t want that future with some nameless person I had yet to meet. I wanted it with Alexander. And I hadn’t missed the wistful note in his voice either. A part of him wanted a forever kind of love too.
“I wish—” I started to say, but Alexander cut me off with a light tap of his gloved finger against my lips.
“No wishes.” His voice was husky. “I’d make all your wishes come true if I could, but I can’t. Let’s simply enjoy the present, like you keep saying.”
“Okay.” I couldn’t help my glum tone.
“Hey.” Alexander pulled me close, no mind to the cars passing by or the other pedestrians. “Don’t be sad. Please. I hate making you sad.”
“You’re not.” I hugged him back. “The situation might be, but you make me happy.”
“Good.” He gave me a fast kiss before glancing up, fresh wonder in his eyes. “Look. It’s starting to snow.”
“It’s so pretty.” Despite my yearning for a future that couldn’t be, I smiled. It was hard to stay sad in the face of Alexander’s delight. And he was right. I needed to enjoy every second together, not dwell on what couldn’t be.
Make your own holiday magica sign at the house across the street read. And that was precisely what I resolved to do. Maybewe only had one season together, but I would do everything in my power to make it the best.
Twenty-Three
Corps de ballet:the “body” of a ballet company; the dancers who perform in large groups rather than solo roles. Known for dancing in unison to create elegant patterns.
Alexander
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” I adopted a long-suffering tone as Rudy opened the door to the back stairwell at the ballet school.
“You enjoyed last time.” He laughed at my complaining, as I’d known he would. I’d done my usual post-performance moping around all week, and Rudy had done an admirable job of distracting me.
“I did.” Pursing my lips, I made a show of conceding. Little did he know that there wasn’t much I wouldn’t let him talk me into. A Friday night game night with his play group was the least I could offer.
“And there will be peppermint mocha whoopie pies.” Rudy smiled encouragingly as he picked up the collection of bags at his feet.
“You had me at dessert.” I relieved him of a reusable shopping bag with two presents wrapped in reindeer paper peeking out the top. “But what’s with the wrapped gifts?”
“Our annual gamer-related white elephant gift exchange. I forgot until Troy texted earlier.” Rudy followed me out into the icy night. The snow on Wednesday had been a light dusting, but all the forecasts kept predicting a white Christmas. The air certainly smelled crisp, making my senses tingle with memories of snow days as a kid.
“I’ve never done the whole secret Santa or white elephant gift exchange thing.” I frowned, back to being unsure about this whole evening.
“I figured.” Rudy used a soothing tone. “And I didn’t want you to stress. I knew you didn’t have unwanted dice or extra cards lying around, so I wrapped two pre-constructed decks I have duplicates of to be our contributions.”
