Old Fashioned - Becker Brothers

“I can’t even imagine,” Jordan said. “I’ve been in this town my whole life.”

“There are worse places to be.”

Jordan leaned back on a nod, watching me with a tired smile.

Conversation flowed easily between us after that, and so did the whiskey. As we talked, we went through two more old fashioneds, and the more we sipped, the easier it was to open up. I told him more about my upbringing, about the trouble I would get into with Gabby, a little about my parents. He knew about my mom’s military job, but had no idea that my father built and sold custom furniture made of solid wood wherever we were stationed. So, we talked for nearly an hour about the places I had lived and traveled to growing up, about Mom’s deployments and various job duties, and I even showed him pictures of my father’s favorite projects.

I’d just finished sharing a story about me and my sister getting in trouble for swimming in an old quarry in Alabama when I glanced at the clock and realized it was almost midnight.

I sighed, opening my mouth to tell Jordan it was probably time we both get some sleep, but then the song changed, and he closed his eyes and smiled, letting out an appreciative noise through his nose.

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head before he opened his eyes. They found mine instantly, and he stood, reaching one hand down to where I sat.

I stared at his hand, quirking a brow before I glanced back up at him like I had no idea what I was supposed to do with it. But he curled his fingers with a smile, nodding behind him to the living room like it was a dance floor.

“What?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

“Dance with me.”

I laughed.

“Seriously,” he said before I could call him crazy. “There’s a great story that goes along with this song, and I want to tell it to you.”

Well, shit.

That got my attention, and I took one last sip of my drink before I slipped my hand in his, ignoring the way it covered mine easily with warmth as he tugged me to the living room. When we were in the space between my couch and love seat, he twirled me, pulling me into him with ease before I had the chance to stumble or fall.

Jordan Becker.

A good dancer.

Who the hell would have guessed that?

For a moment, we just swayed — one of his hands on my waist and the other covering my hand where it rested on his chest. I held my other on his shoulder, listening to the song. It was one I didn’t really know. I recognized it, and vaguely recalled my parents listening to it when I was younger, but past that, I had no idea why this song had made Jordan Becker pull me into my living room to dance.

“Do you know who this is?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Eric Clapton,” Jordan said with another smile. He was like a completely different man in that moment, one I’d never met before. The coach with the clipboard didn’t exist, not in that living room. He was somewhere else, sleeping or planning plays, and the man who swayed with me was the real Jordan Becker. It was like spotting a Siberian tiger in the wild.

I wondered how many people had ever seen him with their own two eyes.

“Wonderful Tonight,” Jordan said, just as the chorus began to play. “This was my mom and dad’s wedding song.”

I smiled, my heart squeezing as he twirled me out and back in. “It’s beautiful.”

Jordan nodded. “It is. And they didn’t just dance to it at their wedding. Every night after dinner, Dad would help Mom clean up in the kitchen, and then he’d pull her into the living room, put on this song or sometimes another one that they loved, and dance with her.”

I stopped swaying, gaping at him. “You’re kidding.”

Jordan didn’t miss a beat, sweeping me back up in the rhythm with him. “Dad was a smooth cat.”

“I can see that,” I said, chuckling. “So, every night after dinner?”

“Every night,” he repeated, and his smile slipped, ghosts dancing in his eyes just as much as we danced in that room. “When he died, I think that was the hardest part for her.” He had a far-off look as a moment passed between us. “I mean, my brothers and I, we were dealing with our own shit, you know? Noah was on this kick about who would be the man of the house. Logan was going crazy trying to figure out where he should step up and take Dad’s place in running the house, paying the bills, cleaning, caring for the lawn, doing taxes, all that. Mikey was so young… he was just trying to hold on, to understand that he’d lost his father.”