Reese thought for a moment about how to describe him. “Majestic. Awe-inspiring. Huge. I wouldn’t want to meet him with my car, I can say without a doubt.”
They climbed the steps to the restaurant. He held the door open for her to pass through. She caught a scent of his cologne and an ache of desire swept through her. She pushed it aside. Keeping her wits about her was more important than ever.
Inside, it was lively for a week night. Most of the booths in the restaurant were taken, so they headed into the bar instead, sitting at a small table near the window with a view of the moose’s rear-end.
A server came by to take their order—a beer for Roan and a glass of white wine for her.
They sat awkwardly for a moment. Reese wasn’t sure what to say. Now that she was here, staring at his rugged, handsome face, she was at a loss for words. He may have aged since last she saw him, but his essence was the same, as was her attraction to him. He’d always made her stomach flutter. She’d not thought it possible, but he was even better looking now than when they were teenagers. His face had thinned, making his cheekbones even more prominent, and there was a wisdom in his green eyes that had replaced one of recklessness. He’d been so good with the kids earlier. A calming, trustworthy presence in their chaotic lives. Grace had been right to choose him.
“What kind of schedule should we work out for the kids?” Roan asked, pulling her from her thoughts. “What kind of time can you spare?”
“I can fit them in. My evening classes don’t start until four.” She explained that she taught adult dance in the mornings, designed around the school’s schedule to accommodate mothers with children. Mid-morning were her toddler and pre-kindergarten classes. At noon, she taught a barre class for adults. Then, she had a break until four when her first class startedfor kids in grade school. At five, she offered classes for middle school ages. Finally, at six she taught high school kids. “They get out of school around two-thirty, so they could get to us by three. We could spend an hour with them.”
They talked for a few minutes about how to structure the time. Mondays and Thursdays would be CrossFit days, Tuesday and Friday dance at Reese’s studio. Wednesday would remain flexible, depending on what the kids were interested in doing.
“I’m not sure how this will go, but it’s worth trying if it helps to reach these kids,” Reese said.
“Agreed.”
For a second, they were quiet, the sounds of the busy restaurant all around them.
“Listen, about the other night,” Roan said.
“What about it?”
“I’m sorry I told you that about your dad. I had no intention of doing so. I hope it hasn’t caused you further heartache.”
She opened her mouth to answer, realized she had no idea what to say, and closed it again.
“Anyway, I just wanted to say that,” Roan said. “And also, I’m sorry about how I treated you. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never forgiven myself for it.”
The server came by with their drinks. She waited until she was gone before answering. “I was thinking about all of that tonight. Listening to the kids, I realized how young we were back then. Even though we felt like adults, we weren’t.”
“I was a child, obviously,” Roan said. “And so lost after my mom died. Regardless, I want you to know how sorry I am.”
“Like I said, it was a long time ago. But I appreciate you saying that.”
“It’s inadequate, I know.” He sipped from his beer. “I don’t know how to explain why I did what I did. Other than my frontal lobe clearly wasn’t as developed as I thought it was.”
“I couldn’t figure out what I’d done that would make you leave without saying goodbye. Or not show up to take me to prom.”
He flinched as if she’d pinched him. “That was awful. I know it was. But I couldn’t face a gym full of kids, especially after what happened during our English final.”
Reese closed her eyes as the painful memory forced itself back into her mind. She’d almost forgotten that part of the story.
“It was the poem, wasn’t it?” Reese asked. “Mrs. Patterson made us analyze that Elizabeth Bishop poem. ‘One Art.’”
“Yeah, that’s the one. It tries to convince you that losing things isn’t hard, over and over, while describing increasingly terrible losses. My mom had just died. It pulled me into a dark place. An angry place. If you had told me that I’d cry in front of a room full of other kids, I wouldn’t have believed it. But that’s how grief is. Just a tidal wave you don’t see coming.”
Reese had been sitting three rows behind him. She’d seen his shoulders start to shake. He’d dropped his pencil and it had rolled under someone else desk. The whole class watched Roan Hayes, star athlete, steady and strong, fall apart in the middle of a test.
“I was there.” Reese shuddered at the memory. All these years later, she could still hear the howl of grief that had come from his young body. “I’d never heard anything like it. I hope I never again have to.”
“I tried to get myself together, but it was impossible. I’d held it in since she’d died and, once it was out, there was no bringing it back.”
“Mrs. Patterson tried to help,” Reese said.
“Which made it worse.” Roan’s jaw tightened. “She was so kind. Told me I could finish the test another time, that it was okay. But everyone was looking at me. Including you. Your faceall white and shocked, just staring at me as if you didn’t know me.”
