“EspeciallyGuys andDolls.”
Well, that was unexpected. Hehatedmusicals. And musicals were my life. “That being said,” he continued, “I loved watching you on stage. You were so crazy talented. I remember our first rehearsal, you opened your mouth to singIf I Were a Belland I seriously wondered who was playing the soundtrack behind you. To me, musicals themselves aren’t magical… but you on stage—youweremagical.”
Holy crap. Warmth spiraled around my heart and hot tears pricked my eyes, not for the first time tonight. “Taylor… that was… wow, I don’t know what to say.Thank you.” Silence wedged between us, thick and potent. I swallowed hard, finally breaking the quiet. “My mom was a beautiful dancer.” She had run the ballet studio here in town and it had taken her years to get it started. I leaned over to my bedside table where I had a framed 4x6 picture of her on the stage. The photo was old, black and white, and it had seen better days. Even within the frame, you could see that the corner had been bent and it had some serious damage on the corners. I tilted the image so he could see it. “This was her as Clara inThe Nutcracker. She played the part several years in a row at Boston Ballet. She had dreams of returning to the stage, too. I think if she’d only had me, she might have. But then when Scott was born…” My voice faded and my cheeks heated, worried that I shouldn’t have brought Scottup.
But when I glanced up at Taylor, he was listening intently, his face impassive, flicking between me and my Walmart framed picture of my mom. “Is this okay to talkabout?”
He nodded, but the movement was tight, his lips pressed into a blanched line. I cleared my throat and continued. “She did get to perform one more time, though. I was about four years old and Boston Ballet called her because their Clara got hurt in their final dress rehearsal. She packed us up and we all drove down to Boston where she performed every night for a week until their Clara was better.” I swallowed, dragging my fingers down the smooth glass of the picture. “I remember watching her every night and thinking that she looked like a princess. I wanted to be just like her. It was after that that I begged her to let me start dance lessons. I always wanted to take my students on a field trip to Boston to seeThe Nutcrackerthere.” I sighed. “But there were always reasons why we couldn’t. There wasn’t enough in the budget, it was too close to the holidays, we didn’t have enough chaperones, some of the students couldn’t afford it.” I shrugged, even though it sucked. My students would have loved seeing what prima ballerinas could do with movement alone—no lines, no singing. Just their bodies and a full orchestra behind them. “It’s just a shame because some of these kids may never get to New York or even Boston to see a professionalshow.”
Taylor regarded me for a long moment. “You love thosestudents.”
I nodded. I did love them. Then he took the picture from my hands and looked at it. “She’s gorgeous,” he said. “You look a lot like her.” He glanced up at me and then down at her again. “Except your blondehair.”
“Ah. Yes. I have my dad to thank for that.” I took the frame from him and put it back on mynightstand.
“Where’s yourdad?”
“He died when I was just a few weeks old. I never knew him. Mom tried to do the single parenting thing with me for a few months in Boston, but it was too expensive. Too hard in a big city. She moved us here when I was a few months old. Apparently, she met your dad the day she was movingin—”
My voice broke off.Dang.I was talking a lot tonight. And frankly, probably none of this was interesting to him. That day? The day Scott was conceived was the last thing he wanted to hearabout.
“No,” Taylor said. “Tell me.” He swallowed, his jaw tight. “I want toknow.”
I cleared my throat, not sure how in detail he wanted me to go. “Obviously, I don’t remember any of this, but she told me about it years ago, after I moved home from college. I think when she got sick, she worried about what I thought of her—her reputation when the affair came out. She wanted me to know the truth—her truth.” I took a deep breath before continuing. It was his chance to stop me, in case he changed his mind and didn’t want to hear this. “The day we moved to Maple Grove, I was asleep in a car seat as she was attempting to unload heavy boxes from the car. Your dad was driving by and pulled over. He offered to help carry the boxes inside. As a thank you, she cooked dinner… one thing led toanother.”
I paused, unsure of how much to tell him. But for the sake of my mom—for the sake of her reputation, she would have wanted Taylor to know this. “She didn’t know your dad was married until after. She said she waited for him to call her and when he never did, she was crushed. Then one day, she was grocery shopping and saw him… with your mom. And you. But by then, it was too late. She was pregnant again. She didn’t tell your dad about Scott until he was in middle school. And the only reason she did was because Scott was asking so many questions, she didn’t think she could continue lying tohim.”
I finished their story. The same story Scott had tried to explain for years and Taylor wouldn’t hear any of it. But right now, I was grateful. I was so grateful that he finally listened. That heheard.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voiceraspy.
“What do you have to be sorryfor?”
“I should have listened earlier. Should have talked with Scottsooner.”
I blinked, my eyes misty as I stared into Taylor’s crystal blue gaze. “Does this mean you’ll talk to himnow?”
He tilted his head, leveling me with his stare. “Maybe. Baby steps, you know. But… the way I figure it, if I’m going to be dating his sister, I probably need to be able to be in the same room with theguy.”
My breath hitched.Dating.We were dating. Was this moving too fast? We didn’t even live in the same city, for god’s sake. Then again, he wasn’t asking me to marry him. He just wanted to go on adate.
“I had no idea your mom was a performer. I mean, I knew she taught at the balletstudio—”
“Where do you think I got it from? She was my number one fan,” I added, smiling sadly. “She wanted for me what she herself never got to follow throughon.”
“What’s stoppingyou?”
That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? “I keep wanting to go audition. There’s a repertory theater just north of Boston. They had an open casting call once a couple years ago. I made it as far as Amesbury before I panicked and turned around to comehome.”
“They don’t have other opencalls?”
I shook my head. “That was their last open call. Now it’s by appointment only, once ayear.”
He swiped his thumb beneath my eye, brushing an errant tear from my cheek. “So why don’t you make anappointment?”
I snorted, rolling my eyes. “Taylor, comeon.”
“Come on, what? You’re talented, Paige. You got into Northwestern on a scholarship. You of all people know how hard that is.” I drew in a deep breath through my nose. “When’s the next audition?” heasked.
