“Just about. You can only get that brand at beauty-supply stores—and I think a few of the contents are probably forbidden in some countries, but it gets the job done.”
I glanced sideways at her to see whether she was joking, but before I could ask, the doorbell rang. “That’s probably the nurse. She said she could stay until we get back—which won’t be late—so you won’t be alone. And the movie Owen is seeing with Maris and her dad is over at nine, and he should be home shortly after that.” I slid her cell phone closer. “But you can still call me at any time, all right?”
The doorbell rang again and I went to answer it, finding Lutie Stelle at the door, and Gibbes walking up behind her.
“Well,” Nurse Stelle said as she stepped inside. “You look pretty as a picture. Let me see that dress.”
I gave a little twirl, just enough so the full skirt swished about my knees. It was deep red, my “signature color,” as Loralee called it, having an almost Jackie O. look to it, with a portrait collar and a tightly fitted bodice. I’d gone shopping by myself, but had taken more selfies in one day than I had in my whole life and sent them to Loralee until she and Owen selected what they both considered the perfect dress. I couldn’t imagine wearing it to a funeral, and refused to think beyond getting through the coming night.
Gibbes closed the door behind them and gave a low whistle. “It’s not going to matter if you can’t dance. You can just stand still in that dress.”
Remembering what Loralee had taught me, I bit back any arguments and just said a simple, “Thank you.” I noticed the bouquet of flowers in his hands. “I’m assuming those are for Loralee? Come on up—I think there’s room in the vase from the flowers you brought last time.”
We all headed upstairs, where Loralee greeted us with one of her big smiles. I noticed she’d put on some of the lipstick I’d left on her nightstand.
Gibbes kissed her cheek as I arranged the flowers in the vase and moved them to the dresser so they’d be closer. Nurse Stelle settled herself in the chair by the bed and began checking the clipboard and rearranging the medicine bottles.
“Don’t you worry about us,” she said. “We’ll hold down the fort until you get back—and no need to rush. Loralee and I always have a good time, don’t we?”
“Just don’t have too wild a party,” I said, leaning in to kiss Loralee’s cheek. “I don’t want Owen coming home early and being scandalized.”
“We’ll try not to,” she said, looking up at me with bright eyes. “Good-bye, Merritt.”
It wasn’t until we were outside again that I wondered at her choice of words, but I didn’t dwell on it. If there was anything Loralee had taught me, it was not to dwell on things. In the week since we’d had our “come-to-Jesus meeting,” as she called it, I still hadn’t found a way to tell Gibbes what I knew, or prepare myself for the consequences. I knew she was probably hoping it would happen that night, but when his hand touched the small of my back as we headed down the porch steps, and I smelled the clean, fresh scent of his shampoo, I knew I couldn’t. If that was to be the only night we’d have, then I didn’t want to ruin it with confessions and recriminations. Or memories of a husband who’d never let me wear red.
“Would you like to walk?” he asked. “We could drive, but it might be hard to find parking.”
I pointed my toe, showing off my new red ballerina flats with the tiny bows on the top. “These are perfect for walking, and it’s a gorgeous evening, so I say we walk. And maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll trip and hurt my foot so that I won’t be able to dance.”
He threw back his head and laughed, then tucked my hand into the crook of his arm. “You probably aren’t aware that it’s illegal to live in South Carolina and not know the state dance.”
“I think you’ve mentioned that. Although they might need to change the law after tonight.”
As we approached the marina, Gibbes stopped. “Are you okay to walk along the river, or would you prefer we stick to Bay Street?”
I stared down at my shoes for a moment, thinking. “I’ll be okay to walk by the water. I just have to think about Loralee and I realize my fears are pretty pathetic in comparison.”
I put my hand on his arm and we resumed walking past the marina to the waterfront, both of us lost in our own thoughts. It had been a warm day, but not too hot, and a cool breeze now blew off the water as the sun began to paint the clouds with streaks of red and orange. The distant sound of live music came from the park, and my heart sighed. It was almost as if for a long while all the things that made my heart beat had been silenced by the things in my life I couldn’t control. But as my skirt swished against my legs, and I felt the salt-tinged air on my face and the solidness of Gibbes’s arm beneath my hand, I allowed myself to loosen up and to believe—even just for one evening—that both feet were off the brake.