Dance with Me, Valentine by Kristen Ethridge

Author:Kristen Ethridge [Ethridge, Kristen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Laurel Lock Publishing
Published: 2018-12-18T06:00:00+00:00

It felt strange to hear Rob tell about the years since he’d left Port Provident. She’d built it up in her mind that the reason he didn’t call, didn’t write, didn’t have any contact rested solely on her shoulders. She’d carried that blame and guilt for so long.

If only she’d been a better girlfriend.

If only she’d been prettier.

If only she’d offered to do things with him that other high school girls did with their boyfriends—even though he’d never asked. He’d never even tried or pressured her, like so many other teenage boys did in relationships.

She’d told herself so many times that if only she’d been worth remembering, he’d have remembered.

If only…

Clair had wrapped those words of self-loathing around her like a blanket and worn them like a suit of armor, there to deflect any feeling—good or bad—from getting anywhere near her heart.

“And then I met Buck. I mowed lawns in the mornings with his crew and I kept the job working third shift in the warehouse. It took about two years of saving all that third shift money—it was good pay because of the shift differential—to scrape together enough to send my dad to rehab. But I did. He fought me every step of the way there. I thought we were going to come to literal blows before he got admitted. But for some reason, he stayed for the full twenty-one days. He’s been sober ever since. Going on eight years.”

Clair’s mouth went dry. “You did what you set out to do,” she said simply.

Rob nodded. “Yeah. I saved my dad. I knew he was in there somewhere. I couldn’t lose him to the alcohol and the rage.”

A small wiggle of warmth pushed into her chest, tearing back some of that gray cloud she’d held so close for so long. Clair stopped clearing the table. She wanted to remember how this felt. She wanted to be able to remind herself that something good came out of the events that had brought her so much sadness.

“A wise son makes his father glad,” she replied, with careful consideration.

Rob’s hands gestured nonchalantly. “I don’t really know how happy he was with me back then.”

A faint smile tugged across her lips. “It’s from Proverbs in the Bible.”

“Handy little book,” Rob said. “Martie was quoting out of it earlier. Do y’all just sit around quoting Bible clichés at the center for the fun of it?”

Without any effort on her part, the smile on Clair’s face stretched more broadly. “Only on Sundays. Jim Meadows is a retired pastor and he does a Sunday service for the residents. The rest of the time, we just quote ‘em because they’re the truth.”

“I guess so,” he shrugged.

Clair came back to the table and sat down with a fresh glass of tea. “Some days, those truths are the only things that keep me going.”

“Are you doing okay, Clair? You’ve said a few things that make me think maybe not.”

“I was diagnosed with clinical depression in college, although we suspect I

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