Chapter 2
“One, two, three, spin, one, two, three, turn…”
Emilio counted off the steps of the waltz, and the woman in his arms moved with him gracefully as they flowed across the floor while Frank Sinatra’s voice crooned “The Christmas Waltz,” complete with choral accompaniment. They’d have live music for the show, featuring a local singer backed by the Holiday Pines High School Chorale, but the arrangement was the same. The waltz would be a featured dance for the Christmas show, and Emilio had even held general auditions for a partner, wanting to open the performance up to people outside of his studio. To his delight, the audition had been well attended, and he’d selected Angela Ramsay, who ran a local bakery. Ms. Ramsay was in her forties, and she’d been ecstatic at beating all the younger women for the chance to dance in the show.
The music ended, and Emilio smiled at Angela. “That was wonderful. If you have time tomorrow, I’d like us to practice it on stage at the theater.”
“I can make the time,” she said. “Just let me know when, and I’ll be there.”
Emilio considered. “Is seven too late? I’m teaching a salsa class at eight. Fortunately, you’re good enough that I think an hour is more than enough time.”
She smiled, obviously pleased by the compliment. “No, I’ll close the bakery a little early and meet you at the playhouse at seven.”
“Great. I’ll see you then.”
Once Angela had departed, Emilio went to change the CD in the stereo. In addition to the waltz, he would perform a flamenco number in the show. Emilio’s mother had started the tradition and he had continued it. Isabel Rives hadn’t minded leaving Spain to be with her American husband, and she’d seen no reason not to introduce the dance of her homeland to her new town. She’d confided once to Emilio that the sweetness of the Christmas show needed a little spice to keep people interested.
The practice room door opened, and Emilio glanced up to see if Angela had returned, but instead, his mother entered the room.
“Are you busy?” she asked. “I came to hear about the holiday show. How is it going?”
At seventy, Isabel Rives was still slender and graceful. She’d passed on both her talent and her love of dance to him. Some of Emilio’s earliest memories were of his mother dancing with him while singing to him in Spanish as she held his hands.
“Never too busy for you, Mama,” he replied. “It’s going well. I’m sure we’ll have the usual last-minute dramas, temper tantrums, sick stomachs, and heartbreaks, but so far, so good.”
“Yes, yes, I know aboutyou. I was asking about your students,” she said with a teasing smile as she approached him and stretched out her hands.
Chuckling, Emilio shook his head as he took her hands in his and then leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Students? You mean I’m not dancing the entire show by myself?”
“Maybe next year.” His mother squeezed his hands before releasing them.
“You always say that!” Emilio sighed dramatically. “Ah, well. Someday. But in the meantime, the students are coming along. Though I had to stop my Nutcracker’s attempt to give Clara a tonsillectomy backstage today.”
“Let them have a little fun under the mistletoe,” she said, laughing as she wagged her forefinger at him. “You remember what it was like at that age, I’m sure.”
Emilio’s smile froze on his face. He did remember what it was like at that age. He remembered how intense everything felt, how wonderful… and how painful.
All because of Rayne.
It didn’t hurt as much as it had twelve years ago, of course, but seeing Rayne earlier that day had been a reminder of things Emilio had tried hard to forget. Even though he’d once fantasized about Rayne returning, he’d ignored the longing that had never completely gone away and done his best to convince the arts council they shouldn’t offer Rayne the contract to remodel the theater. Rayne had left the town behind and hadn’t visited in years. He probably wanted to make the playhouse into something modern and sterile, full of glass and chrome. He would ruin the soul of the building the same way he’d broken Emilio’s heart, and then he’d walk away without giving a damn what happened after he was gone.
“I remember.” Emilio kept his tone flat. “Maybe I see it as doing them a favor.”
His mother’s expression softened into sympathy tinged with sadness. She’d always been able to read Emilio far too well. “I don’t suppose I need to ask if you’re aware Rayne Sadler is in town. You must have seen him for this bitterness to spring up anew.”
“I’m not bitter. I’m angry,” Emilio replied. “He’s going to gut the theater and turn it into something awful, I know it. And every time I look at it…” He waved his hand, brushing the thought away.
“You don’t know anything,” Mama said. “You’re assuming because you’re still upset with him for breaking your heart. I think you should talk to him. Yell at him if you must, but you need to find a way to let him go for good. I want to see you happy, and this is holding you back.”
Emilio crossed his arms and scowled. “Iwashappy, until the arts council had the brilliant idea to hand a major project over to someone who doesn’t give a damn about this town or the people in it. I got over Rayne Sadler a long time ago, but it doesn’t change the fact that I object to him being given carte blanche without even having to submit a design!”
Mama fixed him with a skeptical look. “The playhouse restoration has nothing to do with why you haven’t been able to commit to anyone since Rayne broke up with you. Either you’re still angry and you’re letting fear control you, or you’re still carrying a torch for him. I don’t know which it is, but I think this is an excellent time to resolve the issue and put it behind you for good.”
His mother knew him better than anyone else and her love for him was unshakeable. That knowledge had made it possible for him to go to her when he’d realized he was attracted to boys, not girls. It had enabled him to tell her when he’d fallen in love with Rayne Sadler, and later, after much agonized soul searching, to confide that he’d decided to give up his dream of taking over the dance studio and move to Atlanta to be with Rayne. His mother had been there for him when everything had come crashing down and Rayne told him they didn’t have a future together.
“Maybe I haven’t found anyone worth committing to.” It was easier to convince himself of that than to admit there might be another reason. “As far as resolution, I don’t have any idea what you think can be resolved between us. I have nothing to say to him. In a few weeks he’ll be gone, and everything will go back to the way it was.”
“Your mouth says you have nothing for him, yet the darkness you carry here,” she said, touching his chest with her forefinger, “says otherwise. You need to let him go, not for his sake but for yours.”
