Snow Dance (2 page)

In the kitchen Casey set milk and cookies on the table for her hyperactive little sister who charged off for one more sick room check before climbing on to a stool and spinning around on the smooth wooden surface. Casey switched off the low flame she’d had under the chili and dished out a bowl for Parker. “Let me guess. Freddie Huntz has finally decided to hire me at the diner.”

“Nope.” He told her about the vintage clothing shop opening soon and about the wiseacre lady who’d caught Russ McNeil’s eye. “I’ve already got work lined up for tomorrow afternoon, but Russ said he’d take you over to meet her. You up for it?”

“Sure.” Casey had always liked Russ. He was her father’s best friend.

Parker rested a hand on her shoulder. “Now I’m gonna pull rank on you. Go to your room and get some sleep.”

“It’s Jenna’s bedtime, not mine.”

“Noooo.” Jenna hopped off the stool and hid behind Parker.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get Jenna to bed later, and I’ll handle Dad duty tonight.”

“But—”

“You can’t keep going like this, Casey.”

She nodded and headed upstairs to the room she shared with Jenna, grateful for a little time alone. Winter moonlight cast a bluish tint along the creaky floorboards. Casey pulled off her sneakers but didn’t change out of her jeans. She wanted to be ready to go if they needed to rush Dad to the hospital.

Casey picked up the glass unicorn from the night table next to her bed. Her father had given it to her for her birthday last year. It was crystal blue with a fairy riding on it. And frosted, as if it were running through the snow.

“Listen to the dreams of your heart,” he’d said to her.

Could she still have a dream? She wasn’t sure.

Lying on her bed, Casey gazed out the dormer window. The world outside looked cold and dark. And so breathlessly still. Like it was holding back a torrential storm of tears.

CHAPTER TWO

Friday afternoon, Russ McNeil eased his battered green Ford pickup through the steady stream of after school traffic as he neared North Cove High. The sight of a teenage couple holding hands struck a chord in him. Russ had married at eighteen, and his only son was now a strapping twenty-seven-year-old. But on this dreary, overcast January day two weeks before his forty-ninth birthday, Russ felt like a teenager himself.

It seemed like eons since he’d met a female that sent him reeling. Divorced and disillusioned when it came to women, Russ thought those days were long gone — until Amanda Kushinski came to town.

He was up half the night thinking about her hazel eyes. They were almost almond shaped, kind of oriental looking above to her high cheekbones. She had her foxy auburn hair tied up in a ponytail, revealing a delicate ivory neck that cried out to be kissed. Then there was the way her legs bent when she walked. A certain kind of athletic stride you don’t see in most women, telling him she must look damn nice with nothing on.

Casey waved to him from the corner. Russ pulled over. She climbed in and they made it to Hanson and Oaks without once mentioning Marty Richardson, although he doubted Casey’s dying father was ever far from her mind.

The sign in front of the store read: PAST PERFECT. Amanda answered the door looking even better than he remembered. He couldn’t take his eyes off her sleek legs in tight jeans as they followed her through an obstacle course of boxes. The sweet curve of her perfect butt just below the bulky beige sweater she wore definitely put him in pain.

“Just in time,” she said. “A shipment came in a day earlier than I expected.”

Russ hung back while the two females talked about clothes and the store. He could tell Amanda liked the girl. And Lord knew Casey needed an older woman to talk to these days. He just hoped Amanda was the straight shooter she appeared to be.

Casey stepped toward him. “I can start now.”

“Now?”

Amanda chimed in. “Just for maybe a couple hours or so. Until we get what’s in these boxes out and onto the racks. Speaking of which…” She nodded to a box in the middle of the floor that came up to her shoulder. “The UPS guy delivered this monster today. My shelves. Weighs a ton. Quick service, but right now I’m in no mood to play handyman. I’ll save that job for tomorrow. But I wondered, Russ, if you wouldn’t mind helping me move it out of the way.”

“I’ll do more than that.” Russ scampered out the door to his pickup and came back with a metal toolbox. He set it down, tossed his jacket on the floor and began unpacking the large crate.

It seemed to make Amanda uncomfortable, and for some reason he liked that.

“Um, Russ, I didn’t want to unpack this yet because I…”

“I’ll put them up.”

“You really feel like doing this?” Amanda asked.

Russ kept working. “Why not?”

“Okay. There should be some instructions somewhere in there,” she said.

“Instructions?” He flashed her a sideways smirk. “I’ve been wielding a hammer since I was a kid.” And he felt like a kid now trying to impress her.

Which he did.

Fifteen minutes later, Amanda stood beaming at the sight of her new shelves, all neat and clean, just where she wanted them. The smile she gave Russ made him want to build her a whole damn house or something.

She crossed her arms and seemed to be studying him. “You made that look so easy. How much do I owe you?”

“Let me take you out for coffee.”

“Okay.”

That sent Russ to the moon. She hadn’t even hesitated for a millisecond before saying yes. “Great. Pick you up tomorrow night around seven thirty.”

“Tomorrow
night
? I thought we were going out for coffee.”

“We are. Soon as we finish dinner.” Russ picked up his toolbox and before she could say no, he called to Casey, “I’ll come back for you in a couple hours.” And he chugged out to his car.

Feeling like a kid who’d won a gold star.

***

Amanda found herself secretly giddy over her dinner date with Russ McNeil. She hated to admit it, but once he took off that grubby orange parka and stood there all lean and muscular in a tight, white (and, yes, in need of laundering) tee he looked sexy as hell. She labeled and racked dresses with Casey, wanting to ask the girl all about him. But aside from the fact that Casey would no doubt reveal her interest to Russ, Amanda knew he wasn’t really her type.

Not that she had a type anymore. Amanda had spent so many years wrapping her life and hopes around her latest fling, only to be floored with an emotional kick to the gut, that she’d sworn off relationships. Once she settled in here she would get herself a dog. They knew how to be loyal.

She liked Casey. An intelligent girl, but not talkative like most her age. She expressed some appreciation for certain pieces, but with no enthusiasm in her voice. Amanda remembered Russ saying her family was having some troubles, and Amanda made a mental note to schedule Casey for extra hours. Maybe that would help out a bit.

After about two hours of bending over boxes, Amanda’s old dance injuries began to ache. She rolled her head and shoulders and then did a few
grand pliés
, squatting until her butt nearly touched her heels, her knees wide open to the side. When she straightened, she bent her torso way back in a
cambré
, then forward, her head to her knees. Noticing Casey watching her, Amanda held onto one of the racks for a
jambe à main
stretch, gripping her heel with her hand and lifting her leg to her ear.

The girl’s eyes lit up. “Whoa. Now
that
is impressive.”

“Like that, huh?” Amanda spun around in a double pirouette, ended with a lilting
glissade
followed by balancing on half-pointe, one leg in an arabesque lifted high behind her.

The smile on Casey’s face stretched from ear to ear. “Bravo!”

Amanda laughed. “Now you.”

“No way. I’ve never had any dance lessons. Only saw stuff on TV.”

Amanda walked to a mirror leaning against the wall and curled a finger at her youthful admirer. “Come here.”

Casey stepped forward cautiously.

“Step one. First position. A dancer has to know how to stand correctly before she can begin to move.” She adjusted Casey’s feet, legs and then gently set her arms. She touched her abdomen. “Suck this part in and lift. Chin raised. Widen your shoulder blades slightly. And pretend there’s a cord lengthening your spine upwards, pulling you.”

“Feels so stiff,” Casey said.

“Only at the beginning. With practice it turns into strength and elasticity. Then it feels great.”

“Let me see. Looked like you did this.” Casey tossed off her own crude version of Amanda’s little variation.

“Wow. What you did isn’t easy. Let’s see you try this.”

Amanda started giving her one move after the next, and the sullen cloud that had been hanging over the girl seemed to lift. Casey giggled and opened up, telling her about sports she played and even about a boy she liked.

Best of all, Casey immersed herself in the movement in a way that Amanda recognized because she’d felt that same exhilaration herself. Regardless of her lack of training, Casey didn’t just mimic the moves, she danced them.

This girl has it. She’s a natural born dancer
.

The front door buzzer surprised them both.

Russ greeted them and immediately took in their ebullient mood. When Casey ran to get her coat from the office, he moved in closer to Amanda. Shaking his head in amazement, he said, “I haven’t seen that kid smile in a long time. Her father’s dying of cancer and her mom’s so broke up she went back to the bottle.”

“Oh, my God. That poor girl.”

Casey returned. “Tomorrow morning?”

“Ten sharp.” Amanda turned her head at a trickling sound. “Do I hear water running?”

The three of them walked to the rear storeroom where a healthy rush of water was streaming from the faucet in the utility sink.

“That’s odd,” Amanda said. “I don’t remember either one of us coming back here this afternoon. But this is a pretty old fixture. Either that or I’m losing it.”

Russ shrugged. “Who knows? Could be a lot of things.”

Casey said, “Isn’t there a story about some lady who once lived here a real long time ago and who still kind of hangs around? If you know what I mean?”

Amanda waved off her suggestion. “Oh, Casey, you’ve been watching too many of those paranormal shows. Right, Russ?”

“Right.”

***

Saturday morning, Parker drove his father’s 4x4 into the Gentilliano’s sprawling country estate on a bluff overlooking Long Island Sound. They’d been customers of Richardson’s Landscape Gardening and Lawn Care for three years and he didn’t want to lose them. Even though Parker’s father had begun taking him along on certain jobs and teaching him the business back when he was fourteen, running it by himself was a challenge.

Parker had hoped to graduate high school this June. But by the time his senior year began in September, Marty Richardson no longer had the strength to get out of bed. As Marty lay weak and dying, his distraught wife’s alcohol problem came roaring back, getting her fired from the low paying jobs she managed to get. Leaving only Parker to care for his mother, Casey and Jenna.

As he used his chain saw on a tree that had fallen in the last windstorm and then began splitting the logs for firewood, Parker ignored the pretty face watching him from the distant window of the grand house. For the past three years he gladly gave up his Saturdays to work here with his father in hopes of catching a glimpse of Tanya Gentilliano. He used to pray she would smile at him or say hello. But Tanya would never give this local gardener’s son the time of day. He was just part of the help, an insignificant character in the background at the Gentilliano’s weekend getaway house.

But none of that mattered anymore. Not now. Not when his world had grown so raw and perilous. Which was why he merely went about his work instead of responding to her usual game of parading about, then snubbing him the instant their eyes met. Ironically, that only made Tanya turn up the dial, going out of her way to make sure Parker paid her the props she’d grown used to receiving.

Like now as she posed beneath a cluster of trees that bordered the clearing where Parker worked. “Did you know we have a place on Sixty-fourth and Park? Really pretty. Coolest part of Manhattan. Ever been there?”

“I don’t the like the city.”

“The other night I went to this party at a friend’s. She lives in a penthouse overlooking Central Park. The view is like so incredible.” She tilted her head, studying Parker. “Oh, I forgot. You don’t like the city.”

Parker lifted another piece wood and set it on the stump. He shouldered his axe and turned to Tanya. “Better move back a ways. These things have a tendency to explode.”

Tanya stepped further off to the side. “Am I safe now, big guy?” She smirked.

He nodded, straight-faced. Then in one swift motion slung his axe down through the center of the log, splitting it in half, and sending each section sailing off the side.

Tanya clapped. “Home run!” She crossed her arms. “Betchya I could do that.”

“Probably.”

“Mind if I take a shot?”

“No, but your father would.”

“My father? He minds everything I do. But I just ignore him.” Her voice shifted down an octave. “He wouldn’t like me hanging out here talking to you.”

Parker sent up another barrier in his internal wall, grabbed a log and lined it up for his next cut.

Just as he went into his backswing Tanya said, “I wonder how he’d feel if I kissed you.”

Parker’s axe came down, two inches off to the side of the log. A total miss. Embarrassing.

“Strike one,” Tanya said with a giggle. “You want to kiss me. Don’t you?”

He bit back his anger. Of course he wanted to kiss her. He’d wanted that since the first time he saw Tanya. With her mother’s honey colored hair and full lips and her father’s olive skin and black eyes, she was the most exquisitely beautiful girl Parker had ever seen.

He wound up for a second try.