The Dream - Whitney Dineen Page 0,60
geometry and wondering if he could combine it with his love of woodworking. Anyway, he smiled when he walked by, but he didn’t say hello or anything. I guess he’s moved on with his life, too. Everybody seems to be doing that these days. Everybody but me.
I’m standing in the kitchen pouring my first cup of coffee when I hear a knock at the door. It’s Buck. “When did you two finally leave last night?” I demand.
“About twenty minutes after you went to bed.”
“What was that all about, anyway?”
“Right? Davis just wouldn’t take the hint.”
“Neither of you took the hint,” I tell him.
He shrugs his shoulders and pushes past me to grab a mug. After filling it with coffee, he announces, “I made fun plans for us today.”
“You did? What?”
“I hired a dance instructor, and she’s going to give us proper waltzing lessons. I figure it’s about time you learned.”
“Really?” I ask, more than a little surprised. “I thought I was going to show you all the new shops that have opened up in town in the last couple of years.”
“While that sounds positively thrilling, I assure you the shopping in London is light years ahead of whatever is going on in Creek Water. Plus, you’re going to need to know how to waltz if you’re going to visit me in England.”
“Why? Is it still nineteen forty there?” I tease.
“Ha ha ha. Waltzing is the dance all other dances are based on. It’s a must-have life skill,” he informs me.
“If you say so. Where are we having this lesson?”
“It’s a secret. But it starts in an hour, so hurry up and get ready. We can pick up breakfast on the way.”
I hurry to the bedroom and put on a spring dress with a full skirt. Buck whistles when I come back. “You look nice.”
“Well, I can’t have you looking better than me. What would our instructor think?”
“She’d think you were one lucky lady.” He winks, causing my stomach to do a funny little flip. What’s that all about?
We stop off at Perk Place to pick up coffee and a couple of breakfast sandwiches on our way to wherever we’re going. Buck says, “Our little town is coming up in the world if this is the kind of place that’s opening up.”
“I told you. In the last two years alone there are three new coffee shops, a kitchenware store, a couple of furniture stores, two book shops, and three spas.”
“I’m impressed. Maybe I should move back,” he suggests while waggling his eyebrows. Is Buck still flirting with me even though Davis isn’t around?
Being that he’s my old friend, my best friend, really, I decide to just ask. “Do you want to kiss me?”
“Maybe after breakfast,” he answers evasively. It’s like I’ve fallen into the Twilight Zone. He says, “Hurry up. It’s going to take us about ten minutes to get where we’re going.”
Driving through town sitting next to Buck feels natural. We’re hardly ever awkward together, if you don’t count that summer before his junior year in college and right now. He takes a series of familiar turns that has me asking, “Is our class at the country club?”
“Yes, ma’am. I hired the same lady who used to give Jessica and Davis lessons.” He smiles brightly before adding, “I hope she still has the same fabulous wardrobe.”
“How in the world are we able to take classes at the club?”
“They can’t do enough for me now that I’m writing an article about them,” he boasts.
“Are you really?” It was the perfect cover story to get us in for the Spring Fling, but I honestly didn’t expect him to follow through with it.
“I am. In fact, I’m going to take more pictures today in the event that I broaden the piece. I’m thinking of titling it, ‘Another Time,’ and focusing on the culture of small-town clubs. They don’t exist like they used to,” he says.
“You almost sound like you admire such institutions.”
“I like the idea of people having a place to be social with their families, even though I don’t like how they exclude a certain class of people.” He’s obviously referring to us when we were kids.
“I don’t know. It was kind of fun sneaking over here to see how the other half lived. It gave us something to strive for.” Even though he’s the only one between us to make something of himself.
“You have a good life, Ash,” he says. “You can do and be anything you want. You don’t have