*
“That was so good. Jean won’t have to browbeat me into staying away from the dessert tray tonight. I’m stuffed.”
“You did very well, Hon,” Nick complimented her. “You ate small sized portions, and drank plenty of ice water with lemon.”
Jean made gagging noises. “Quit sucking up, Dad.”
“You’re really cruisin’ tonight, Dagger. What the heck’s gotten into you today,” Nick asked. “You’ve been trying out every sarcastic remark you can think of on your Mom. Is something going on I don’t know about?”
“She won’t let me go to the school dance.”
“You’re only nine years old for God’s sake,” Rachel said.
“I didn’t even know they had dances for kids under thirteen,” Nick replied. “Man… I’m old. When does this dance take place and what time do they have something like that?”
“It’s next Friday right after school,” Jean answered, Nick’s questions giving her hope, because Rachel’s mouth was tightening. “My whole class is going. There will only be kids there from nine years old to twelve. It will be in the gym. It’s not like we’ll be getting motel rooms afterward.”
“Jean!”
Nick turned away, his face betraying the humor threatening to break free. He faced the music finally as Jean was giggling, accompanied by glaring laser beams of anger from Rachel’s eyes. “Look, would it help if I volunteered to chaperone this event. They do have chaperones, right? I could make sure there’s nothing dangerous going on – no slow dancing gropes, no exchanging room keys, no sneaking behind the bleachers.”
“I thought we agreed we were not giving in to this nine year old terrorist,” Rachel said. “Where’s my backup?”
“Woe there. I didn’t know this was decided. This is the first I’ve heard of it, so naturally, I thought we were discussing the event. If you say no, I’m backing your call on it.”
Nick could tell Rachel was having second thoughts.
“I may have jumped the gun in not talking to you about it,” Rachel admitted. “I figured you’d think it was cute, and no big deal. I’m having trouble thinking of nine year old girls at dances. My Mom used to say they had square dances, and promenades with kids in the younger grades when she went to school. Nowadays, all I can picture is wild assed bands, drugs, and child predators.”
“I can’t disagree with your perception,” Nick replied. “Although the music may be loud, and a lot different than a square dance or promenade, it’ll probably be the girls dancing with each other. The boys will all be lined along the wall, watching. That’s where I spent my first dance, huddled against a wall with other boys too afraid to ask a girl to dance.”
“You did?” Jean, instantly interested in this new Nick story, forgot all about the dance. “I bet you were cute. Why didn’t you ask a girl to dance? Didn’t you like any of them?”
Nick shrugged. “I was thirteen, living in a Foster Home with a bunch of other kids. I couldn’t dance, and I didn’t want to learn with what I figured would be all my class laughing at me. I wasn’t alone. I had plenty of company on the wall. Yes, I had crushes on a couple of the girls. If one of them would have said hi, I would probably have fainted.”
“You were a wallflower. That is so cool. I bet you got really popular later in school. You probably had all kinds of girls hanging around you.”
“We didn’t have girls where they sent me. Shortly after those early dance times, I hurt some boys real bad. When I did my time, I quit school after I reached sixteen before I did something that landed me in prison for the rest of my life. I joined the Army. They liked me. After finding out I was good with languages, I did receive a lot of schooling. You two already know I eventually made it into Delta Force, but alas, no childhood sweethearts. That’s the scoop on my high school love life. The picture of a sandy haired freckle faced Rachel reminded me so much of a girl I knew in high school, I went to meet your Mom, and then I drove East to take care of the guy who wanted her dead.”
Nick’s telling of his earlier days in such bleak terms caught both Rachel and Jean by surprise. “Hey… it happened long ago, and now I’m here with you two, living the dream.”
Rachel turned to Jean. She clutched Jean’s hand in hers. “As long as Nick chaperones, you can go to the dance. After that story, I’d probably let you hitch hike to Cleveland.”
That statement earned some laughs, and a hug from Jean. “Thanks, Mom. I feel like finding something special on the dessert tray now.”