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Authors: Maria Murnane

Wait for the Rain (18 page)

BOOK: Wait for the Rain
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Daphne plopped down next to her, but KC remained standing.

“Do we have to sit?” KC said. She began hopping side to side like a boxer. “I’m kind of itching to dance. I love this music.”

“Then go for it.” Skylar gestured to the dance floor. “No one’s stopping you.”

KC stopped hopping and let her arms fall to her sides. “You won’t dance with me?”

“I will, but not yet. I want to soak in the scene first.” Skylar’s head turned as if on a swivel. “This place is a gold mine for people watching. I love the way everyone lets loose on vacation.”

“If you’ve got moves on the dance floor like you do on the gridiron, I’ll dance with you,” a man’s voice said.

The three of them looked to KC’s left. Doug from the football game approached, a big smile on his face.

“Hey, teammate!” KC gave him a high five. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“What can I say? Word got out that you would be here, so how could I
not
come?”

KC glanced behind him. “Where are your buddies?”

Doug pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “At the bar. Where else would they be?”

“All of them?” Skylar craned her neck through the crowd. The
Is Hot Scott here?
went unspoken, but Daphne didn’t need to hear it to know that’s what she was asking, just as Skylar didn’t have to hear the
Is Clay here?
Daphne was thinking.

Daphne smiled to herself.
I love that we don’t have to say it out loud.

The playfulness and subtext of their communication was like going back in time for her, each new interaction quietly nudging her dormant persona back to life.

“About half of them are here,” Doug said. “The rest of the crew are still at the bar where we had dinner. They may come by later.” He turned to KC. “So what about that dance, champ?”

She grinned. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

The two of them disappeared into the crowd, but Doug was so tall that Daphne and Skylar could see the top of his head bobbing up and down in the middle of the dance floor.

“I wish I had half her energy,” Daphne said. “I’m proud of myself for even being here right now, and she’s out there cutting a rug.”

“You
should
be proud of yourself for being here,” Skylar said. “We’re all wired differently, so for certain things you can and should only compare yourself to yourself. I work with some people who never sleep more than four hours a night, and they’re completely fine. I know I can’t function like that, so I don’t try. I need at least six hours to get by.”

Daphne pressed a palm against her chest. “I could never live with just six hours. I don’t do well without sleep. I was a zombie when Emma was a baby.” Her mind began to drift as she remembered that phase of her life. Brian needed to work in the mornings, so it went without saying that Daphne was the one to take care of the moonlight feedings and rocking sessions—even on the weekends. It was during those quiet hours that the first seeds of doubt began to take hold, when she began to wonder if her marriage wasn’t what she’d thought it was going to be.

Now she knew better. Now she knew he should have stepped up. She also knew she should have spoken up.

“Daphne.” Skylar snapped her fingers. “Earth to Daphne.”

Daphne blinked. “I’m sorry, got lost in my thoughts there. Did you say something?”

“I asked if Emma is having fun on the ski trip? Have you heard from her?”

“Not since this morning. I don’t think she has very good reception there.”

“I’m sure she’s having a great time.” Skylar put her arm around Daphne’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m
also
sure she’s missing you a little bit, even if she’s too cool for school to tell you so.”

Daphne smiled, grateful that she didn’t need to explain. “Thanks. I think I’m going to the restroom. Watch my seat?”

“I’ll try, but if Hot Scott makes his way over here, I won’t try that hard.”

Daphne laughed. “Fair enough.” She stood up and smoothed her sundress, then reached for her purse.

Skylar lowered her voice. “Here comes your birthday present.”

“What?”

“Babe alert, two o’clock.”

Daphne glanced to the right and saw Clay and Scott emerging onto the deck. Scott was unquestionably good-looking, but it was the sight of Clay that got her attention. Tan and with a slight stubble now, there was something about him that made her just a little bi
t . . .
uncomfortable. Or was
nervous
a better word choice? Anxious?

As Daphne stood there mentally evaluating appropriate adjectives, Skylar gave her a nudge from behind. “Don’t be shy, go say hello.”

“You think I should?”

“Of course. And send his buddy my way while you’re at it.”

“I’ll try,” Daphne said.

“Don’t try,
do
. There is no
try
.”

Daphne gave her a look. “Didn’t Yoda say that? I’m pretty sure Yoda said that.”

Skylar sighed. “You are such a nerd. Will you get going already?”

“Okay, fine.” Daphne took a deep breath and smoothed her dress again, then headed in the direction of the restroom.
Smile. Be friendly. Loosen up. You can do it. He thinks you’re pretty, remember?

She weaved her way through the crowd, her eyes scanning the dance floor as she walked. She spotted Doug and KC among the sea of people but now didn’t see Clay and Scott anywhere. She turned back to look at Skylar, who was gently nodding her head to the music, clearly content to be sitting by herself. At least for now.

“Careful there, neighbor.”

Daphne turned around and nearly bumped into Clay. He had one hand high in the air, and she had a feeling he’d put it there to keep her from knocking the drink out of it.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.”

He laughed. “Talk about stating the obvious. Have you been here long?”

Daphne shook her head. “We just came from dinner. KC’s dancing with Doug, and Skylar’s sitting over there. Doug said some of your crew was here, but I wasn’t sure if that included you.” She gave him a half smile.
Another feeble attempt at flirting, but at least I’m trying!

He smiled. “I told you this place was fun. Isn’t it great? I love the energy here. Everyone’s so chill.”

“Skylar calls it the vacation vibe, although it could just be the alcohol. Speaking of which, KC’s pretty funny right now. She doesn’t usually drink very much.”

Clay held up his beer in a toast. “You’re a
great
dancer, said the tequila.”

Daphne laughed. “That’s good. Did you make that up yourself?”

He shook his head. “I stole it from a buddy. You know what they call a margarita?”

She cocked her head to one side. “I do not. What
do
they call a margarita?”

“A snow cone of bad decisions.”

She laughed again, but before she could say anything more, an attractive young blonde appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Clay’s arm. She didn’t look a day over twenty-five.


There
you are, big guy. I was wondering where you’d wandered off to. Come dance with me.” She began pulling him toward the dance floor.

Daphne blushed.
I can’t compete with that.

She held her arm out to let them pass. “Don’t let me hold you up, I was just on my way to the ladies’ room. If you see KC out there, tell her we have a rum punch waiting for her when she gets thirsty.”

“Will do. Good to see you, Daphne.” Clay gave a quick wave as the blonde dragged him into the crowd.

Daphne watched them for just a moment, then turned and headed straight for the restroom, which had two stalls. Surprisingly, one of them was open.
Thank God,
she thought as she pushed open the door. Waiting in the restroom line at a crowded bar was one thing from her younger days that she did not miss.

After exiting the stall she washed and dried her hands, then hunted around in her purse for her lip gloss. She glanced in the mirror and smiled politely at the two women huddled together at the adjacent sink. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it was impossible not to given their proximity. From the conversation Daphne inferred they were about a year removed from college.

“Going back to work’s gonna blow. This week has been off the
hook
,” the first woman said.

Her friend stuck out her tongue. “Don’t get me started on how much I’m dreading walking into that office. I hate my boss. She’s such a bitch.”

“I saw your post about her on Facebook. Sounds like a nightmare to work for.”

“You have no idea. As soon as I can line up something else, I’m out of there.”

As Daphne opened her lip gloss, she realized that she felt a bit sorry for the women, despite their youth. Actually,
because
of their youth. Granted her own career hadn’t progressed past the bottom of the totem pole, but she couldn’t imagine not knowing better than to criticize
anyone
, much less an employer, in a forum as public as social media. She made a mental note to set Emma down and explain the permanence of a digital footprint.

She stole another glance at the women as she applied a dab of color to her lips. Both of their complexions were unlined. Flawless, actually. Not a wrinkle between them. Daphne couldn’t help but wish her own skin still looked that good. Not that hers looked
bad
by any stretch of the imagination. It just looke
d . . .
older.

Their conversation continued. “Did she really sleep with him again?” the first woman asked. “I thought she said she was done with being treated like that.”

The second woman shrugged. “He’s an ass, but she’s in love with him. She keeps hoping he’ll change.”

The first woman sighed. “Why is it so hard to find a good guy? I just want to get married already and be done with it. I’m so sick of the dating game.”

“Me too. If it were up to me, I’d have a ring on my finger by now.”

Daphne put her lip gloss away and slung her purse over her shoulder. As she turned to leave, she took a last glance at her reflection in the mirror and remembered when she used to talk like that, when she used to dream about the day a dashing Mr. Right would come along, sweep her off her feet, and carry her into the future she’d been dreaming of since she was a little girl.

Be careful what you wish for
, she wanted to tell them.

“How’d it go with Clay Handsome?” Skylar asked as she handed Daphne her drink.

Daphne plopped down on the seat next to Skylar. “It went. He’s not alone, so I aborted.”

“Let me guess. A pretty young thing?”

Daphne nodded and took a big sip of rum punch.

Skylar crinkled her nose. “Sugar. What about Hot Scott?”

Daphne glanced around the deck. “I didn’t see him, but I imagine he’s not alone either. Pretty young things are a dime a dozen here. Although I see a handful of gray heads too, which I’ve got to admit makes me feel less like a senior citizen. When I get home, maybe I need to start going to Bingo parlors like KC.”

Skylar rolled her eyes and stood up. “I’m pretending I didn’t hear that. As for the boys, oh well: easy come, easy go. I’m activating Plan B.”

Daphne gave her a curious look. “And that would b
e . . . 
?”

Skylar pointed to the bar. “Alcohol. Need I say more?”

Daphne laughed. “You needn’t.”

“Hold down the fort, will you? Barreling my way to the front of the line might take a while.”

“I’ll do my best.” Daphne took another sip of her drink and again surveyed the deck area, which was now packed with partygoers— and pulsating. “But don’t blame me if I fail miserably. This place is getting kind of rowdy, and I don’t want to end up with a black eye trying to save your seat.”

“You’re almost forty years old. I’m sure you can manage to save my seat.”

Daphne smoothed a hand over her hair. “
Thank you
for reminding me of that. That’s
just
what I needed to hear at this exact moment in time.”

“Anytime, babe.” Skylar blew her a kiss, then turned and slipped through the crowd. Daphne turned her attention back to the spot where she’d last seen Clay. While she’d been in the ladies’ room, the band had been replaced by a DJ, and the dance floor, which had gradually expanded to cover most of the deck, was now so full she couldn’t locate him. And despite Doug’s height, she’d long ago lost track of him and KC. She scanned the entire area again, then gave up and took another sip of her drink.

When the song ended, the DJ, who had been playing hip-hop, changed gears and began to play a slower piece of reggae music. In response, the population on the dance floor collectively slowed down its pace, but there was little attrition. Daphne peered through the crowd, wondering what had happened to KC, but she still couldn’t see her.

She took another sip of her rum punch, then closed her eyes and softly rocked her head back and forth to the music.
KC will be fine. I will be fine too.

Daphne loved reggae music. There was something so soothing about it, so happily mellow, that it always made her smile and feel like everything was going to be fine. Perhaps it was because she usually only heard it playing at barbecues, which by their nature are, typically at least, inherently void of major stressors. Whatever the association, reggae made her feel relaxed and happy, which was exactly what she needed right now.

BOOK: Wait for the Rain
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