“Do you need me to drive you?” Cary offered. “I haven’t been drinking.”
“No, me neither. I’m good. You guys stay. We’ve got this place—and the deejay—for another half hour. Make him play your favorite songs.”
Now that Shiloh was aware of the room around her, she couldn’t imagine dancing any more. She couldn’t believe she’d done it at all. It was like she’d danced right through her dress reverting to rags and her coach turning into a pumpkin.
Also, she was thirsty, and she really had to go to the bathroom.
She started pulling away from Cary and Mike.
“I’m just going to run to the bathroom.”
“Here,” Mikey said, “give me a hug first. I’m taking off.”
She hugged him.
“I’m going to be in Omaha all the time now. I’ll call you, Shiloh.”
She squeezed him. “I’d like that.”
The bathrooms were in the lobby, by the doors.
When Shiloh came out, Cary was standing there talking to someone. She stood on the other side of the lobby waiting for him.
He already looked sad when he walked over to her. “You heading out?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I never expected to stay so long.”
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Thanks.”
Cary held the door for her and followed her to the parking lot. It was cold out, but Shiloh hadn’t wanted to wear a coat.
They both stopped at her car.
Cary was scratching the back of his neck. He seemed nervous.
Shiloh knew what she wanted from this moment—but she didn’t know how to make it happen. She wasn’t practiced in the alchemy of changing a night into another kind of night. And she was historically bad at transitions.
“It was really good to see you,” she said. Lamely.
Cary looked up, sharp. “Shiloh, can I verify something?”
“Sure?”
“You’re living with your mom, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And that’s because you’re no longer married?”
“That is correct,” Shiloh said.
Cary nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
She shook her head. “It’s okay.”
“Is it?”
