“Sorry, my brain wires got crossed. We’re both dressed like this, and—”
“Oh! Yeah, I can see how that would happen. It does feel sort of date-ish,” she said easily, buckling her seat belt. “Do you know where the community center is?”
“Not off the top of my head. Can you navigate?”
“On it!” Iris said cheerfully.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Iris hadn’t even known that the community center had a ballroom.
Well, it probably doubled as a studio, offering ballet or other types of dance lessons for kids. Not that she’d spent any time here personally—she’d just scoped the place out online when she registered for lessons. In any event, the space was perfect with a wall lined with mirrors and a gleaming wood floor. The other couples assembled were all much older, in their sixties or seventies, but the notice hadn’t said there were any age restrictions.
She grabbed Eli’s hand before he could chicken out, as he took a step back when all heads swiveled in their direction. Though she was nervous too, she’d made up her mind to try new things in this fresh start, not to let anxiety get the best of her. So nobody was reneging on this deal.
Not me. Not him.
The instructor was a lithe woman in her forties who clapped her hands in excitement. “There’s our last couple now. We were just introducing ourselves. I’m Norma Jean Martinson, and no, you can’t call me Marilyn.”
Everyone said their names again for Iris and Eli’s benefit, and Iris gave up trying to recall all the names halfway through. Only four of them stuck—Leonard, Gladys, Howard, and Hazel. Leonard was a tall distinguished man with heavy brows, broad shoulders, and silver hair, while Gladys was a small round woman with white hair and dark skin. She had the smile of an angel too. Hazel was plump with a puffy perm, while Howard was thin and lanky, peering at the world through horn-rimmed glasses.
“Good to meet you,” Iris said four or five times.
“It’s a pleasure,” Eli added.
“Likewise,” Hazel said. “Are you new to St. Claire? I don’t recognize you, and I know almost everyone.”
“It’s true,” Howard agreed.
“Newish. I inherited property from my great-aunt—”
“Oh, you’re the new owner of Violet Gables,” Gladys cut in.
“Violet Gables?” she repeated.
“Oh, you don’t know the story?” Hazel tried to fill her in, but Norma Jean clapped her hands again, this time more peremptorily.
“That’s enough chitchat. We’re here to dance, right? So let’s get started.”
Belatedly, Iris realized just how close she’d be to Eli for the next two hours. Somehow, she hadn’t factored that in, but she offered her gamest smile as he extended his hand and pulled her into the correct position. This close, she could smell the soapy clean smell of his skin and hints of pine and juniper that teased her senses. His hand was firm and strong in hers, and the other curved carefully at her waist.
At first, it was awkward, and she couldn’t keep the beat. She stumbled and stepped on his feet. He never complained. Never faltered. And then…everything shifted, as if the world vanished apart from his golden eyes. One night, while getting some fresh air, she’d seen him gracefully glide through his bedroom window, and she could see Eli’s hawk aspect, even in his human form, quietly watching, waiting, though for what, she had no clue. His movements guided hers, step and spin, four paces, back, forward, the music laying the magical lines they followed. Iris could have danced for two more hours when the melody suddenly stopped. Honestly, it was like being freed from a spell that prevented her from detecting the passage of time.
She gazed up at him for a long moment in breathless silence, and she saw…his mouth. A smile meant just for her. It was as if he lived for her. No, that was absurd, one of her wild flights of imagination. But before she could make sense of her chaotic impressions, Hazel and Gladys were beside her.
Gladys said, inexplicably, in an oddly formal tone, “It has been a long, long time since we welcomed one of your kinfolk. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to keep the peace, Lady.”
Uh, what?
The statement felt weighted. She didn’t get a chance to pursue that, as Hazel bumbled into the conversation, fairly glowing with anticipation. “You might not know this, but I was friends with your great-aunt back in the day. Are you interested in hearing why we called her house Violet Gables?”
As it turned out, the story wasn’t as riveting as Hazel imagined, having to do with Anne of Green Gables, some homemade apple wine, and Great-Auntie’s impulsive decision to paint her house purple. And while Hazel recounted that long-ago evening, the rest of the class trickled out, including Gladys and Leonard. Iris listened to every last word, feeling glad that Great-Aunt Gertie once had friends like Hazel, at least.
The other woman sighed, evidently realizing that Norma Jean wanted to lock up. “Looks like I’ve done it again, talked too much and made a nuisance of myself.”
“That’s why we like you,” Howard said in a bracing tone.
“You’re just saying that.” But Hazel seemed pleased with the comment, a touch of pink in her round cheeks.
“I’d love to hear any stories you might want to share about Great-Aunt Gertie,” Iris added. “You’re welcome to come by and chat.”
She gave Hazel her phone number, and the older couple walked out with Iris and Eli, who didn’t open the door for her this time. Why does that bother me? I can’t afford for things to get complicated between us. No, this was clearly for the better. Boundaries shouldn’t get blurred when they lived together. The parking lot was almost empty, just Eli’s truck and Howard’s car.
Before Iris got into the truck, Howard said, “I hear you’re living with my ex-wife.”
Oh, wow.
“You’re Sally’s ex?” she exclaimed.
“That’s me. I just…well. Can you make sure she’s all right? Things didn’t work out for us, but she’s not used to being on her own.”
“There are four of us in the house,” Eli pointed out. “Sally isn’t alone.”
“Right. The woman lands on her feet, I’ll grant her that. I heard she’s dating—”
“So are you,” Hazel snapped. “If you keep this up, I’ll never go out with you again.”
“I think this is our cue,” Eli whispered.
Iris couldn’t get in the truck fast enough while the old couple argued in the community center parking lot. She could understand Howard being concerned for his ex, but it was a bit insensitive to leave his date standing while he asked about Sally. Ugh. So awkward. But she smiled faintly as a sudden thought occurred to her.
“I hate when people pester me about what’s making me smile,” Eli said softly.
“But you’re curious?” She grinned. “It just dawned on me… We think everything will be clear by their age. We’ll have it all figured out, right? But living with Sally and Henry Dale has clarified a few things.”
“Like?”
For Iris, it felt like a critical insight because it took the pressure off. There was no deadline after all to get her shit sorted and get all her ducks in a row. “Some people don’t like ducks,” she said, forgetting that Eli couldn’t read her mind. “Or rows for that matter. Why do the ducks have to be in a row? What if they prefer circles?”