so I resorted to leaving a dorky message on her voicemail—‘Hey Winnie, it’s your mom, just wanted to wish you a happy New Year’s eve. Call me.’ She didn’t. Probably busy with her new beau.
I hurried to say hi, ditching Darryl ,who was off to the side whispering with a crony.
A smile tugged my lips. “Winnie! I didn’t know you were coming. You look so pretty.”
She saw me and froze before giving me a tight smile. “Hey, Mom.”
“Long time, no see. Is everything okay? Are you here with your new friend?” I glanced around, wondering who her date was.
“Yeah.” She fidgeted. “Listen, we need to talk. There are things you don’t know. Things I have to tell you.”
“Is this about the book of spells you ruined?”
Her lips flattened.
“Why did you wreck it? Surely you could have—”
She cut me off. “There’s so much you don’t understand.”
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t. It’s complicated.” She hesitated before saying in a rush, “You’re in—”
“Evening, Naomi.” Jace slid in close behind my daughter. Too close. His hand on her waist made my gaze narrow.
Jace and Winnie. To my relief I didn’t feel any jealousy, even if Jace was an attractive guy more my age. But I was annoyed. What was Winnie thinking getting involved with another older guy? On the heels of the ire came the hurt. Not only did Winnie keep it a secret, she’d been next door this entire time and not once popped in to see me.
Why?
“I told you she’d be judgy about it,” my daughter muttered to Jace.
In that one statement I knew why she’d kept it a secret. Because her new boyfriend was a man old enough to date me. A man I’d had a few lusty thoughts about. But Jace had chosen someone else, just like I was with someone else.
“Congratulations on getting together. That’s awesome. Really, I’m so happy. With you next door, we’ll be able to visit whenever we want. It will be great for grandkids.” I wanted to slap myself, I certainly mentally winced as I proceeded to go overboard in how okay it was that my early-twenties daughter was dating a guy almost twice her age. Apparently, I wasn’t as progressive as I liked to think.
“Mom!” Winnie exclaimed. “Why must you be like this?”
Maybe because I’d seen her make bad choices before? “How long?” I asked.
“Not long. We wanted to tell you.”
But feared my reaction. Great. Tiptoe around the midlife psychotic widow.
“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” Darryl’s purr tickled me as he tugged me close. I’d never been happier to be rescued.
“Let’s dance,” I demanded, turning into him, seeking the distraction of his allure.
“I would love to,” he drawled.
Lucky me, the music slowed as we got onto the area designated as a dance floor. It was dark enough that I could cling tight to Darryl as we rocked in a circle. His hands were on my hips, mine on his shoulders, head on his chest, eyes closed. When I did open them, it was to see only Darryl and I were dancing in the time-honored circle. The rest of the people did magic with movement. Couples weaved and dipped, a seamless synchronicity that mesmerized. Swoop. Twirl. Bow.
How did they move in time? It was the kind of thing that took hours, months, of practice.
It enthralled me. Filled me. Energized me.
The song ended, and Darryl pushed a drink into my hands. I was hot. Flushed. I gulped it, but the sweetness didn’t quench. I set it down, more than half full, and danced again, glued to Darryl. Rubbing against him wantonly. It might have been shameful if everyone else wasn’t doing it, too.
Inhibitions were lowered, and I was one of them. Running my fingers through his hair. Grinding myself against him. So hot he could have dragged me off to a corner and I would not have protested.
Midnight drew close, and I decided I should freshen up.
“I need to use the ladies’ room.”
“Of course.” He escorted me to the swinging doors that led to the hall with the washrooms. “I’ll wait here for you.”
“Hopefully there’s no line,” I quipped. Giddy, I almost skipped into the bathroom. I did my business, listening as people entered and left in a steady stream.
I emerged and washed my hands. As I dried them on a paper towel, I clued into a conversation between stalls.
“I don’t know how he’s doing it. He usually only has the most beautiful women in his bed.”