“But why would she care about that?”
“Because I’m making her wait to see it until it’s finished. You know, to be a surprise.”
I couldn’t help smiling at him for not only building the studio for Willow, but for wanting the finished product to be a surprise. Our shoes crunched down the gravel path. “Any idea when Willow might be able to return to school?”
Deacon shook his head. When he didn’t say anything else, I sighed. “You want to get rid of this job already?” he asked.
“You know that I love working with Willow. I just worry about her.”
With true concern etched on his face, Deacon questioned, “You think I’m hurting her by keeping her here?”
“No. She’s perfectly safe and happy here. I just hate that she doesn’t have involvement with other children.”
He scratched the stubble on his jaw. “Maybe I can get Kim to bring her kids over more. She and Case have some close to Willow’s age. Mac’s got a granddaughter close to her age, too.”
“I think that would be a great idea.”
Deacon motioned for me to go on ahead of him up the porch steps. When we got inside, Willow sat at the kitchen table with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.
“Hey, thundercloud face, you’re going to make it rain in here,” I said with a smile.
“I wanna see the studio.”
“And you will when it’s totally finished,” Deacon replied as he opened the basement door for me.
“I’ll come down with you two and see the progress,” Beth said.
Knowing that now Mama Beth was also getting to see the studio made Willow fume even harder, so I gave her an understanding smile and said we’d be back up soon. I stepped carefully on the worn boards of the stairs. From my vantage point, I could see why Willow had found it frightening. But when I reached the bottom of the staircase, I gasped in surprise.
While the basement was one large room that ran the length of the house, Deacon had worked to clear out the far end. Mirrors ran the length of the far wall, and a new tile floor had been placed down. I don’t know how he had known to get the kind like I’d had at the dance studio. New lights had been put up so that it didn’t appear so dark and foreboding, and the walls closest to the studio space were painted pink. Willow’s wish had been granted with a barre.
“So what do you think?” Deacon asked.
Gazing around the room, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. “This is … amazing. You thought of everything.” Turning to him, I asked, “You really did all this yourself?”
With a wink, he replied, “I’ve told you before I’m a man of many talents.”
Beth chuckled. “What he means to say is that we have a few electricians and contractors in the club who helped him.”
“Thanks for giving away my secrets, Mom,” Deacon said good-naturedly.
“Pride goeth before a fall,” she replied.
Deacon merely rolled his eyes at her response. At the far end of the room, I noticed a pile of boxes along with some odds and ends.
“What’s all this?” I asked, motioning to an old stereo system with a turntable and a box of old records.
“That’s my old man’s vinyl collection. I didn’t know if you could use the stereo or not.”
“I don’t think so. Most of the music I’ll use with Willow is on my iPod.” I thumbed through some of the records. “Wow. There’re some great classics in here.”
“I didn’t peg you as an oldies fan,” Deacon mused.
“Oh, I grew up on the oldies. My parents used to clean house every Saturday with Motown blaring—the Temptations, the Four Tops, Martha Reeves and the Vandellas.” I smiled. “These bring back so many memories.”
Deacon took the album out of my hand and put it on the turntable. The familiar crack and pop of a record filled my ears before the unmistakable opening of “My Girl” came out of the speakers.
“You should teach Deacon to dance,” Beth suggested.
My brows rose in surprise. “You don’t know how to dance?”
He scowled at both his mother and me. “I’ve never had a reason to learn.”
Giving Deacon a pat on the back, Beth said, “Give it a try. They have daddy-daughter dinner dances at Willow’s school. Don’t they, Alexandra?”
“Yes, they do.”
“Just another reason not to put her back there,” Deacon replied.
Beth laughed. “I’m going to start dinner. Maybe by the time it’s done, you’ll have learned a few steps?”
While he didn’t say no, the glare on his face certainly wasn’t saying yes. As Beth started upstairs, I took a tentative step forward, holding out my arms. “Wanna try?”
“If I don’t, you’ll think I’m a fucking pussy, right?”
I laughed. “Maybe.”
With a grunt, he closed the distance between us. His arms started to slip around my waist. “We’re not slow dancing like a school dance. This is different.”
“How the fuck is it different?”
“Put one of your hands on my waist. Then put the other in my hand.” Once he did that, I smiled up at him. “Good job. Now you can either sway like this or do a box step.”
“I think I’d rather sway,” he replied, his hand tightening on my waist. Even beneath the fabric of my skirt, my skin felt inflamed by his simple touch. It was the first time we had been this close, touched this intimately, since the night we’d let our personal skeletons dance precariously around the room.