Dancing in the Dark

“I was surprised to hear you were back.”

“Why?” She turned to him again and smiled politely. “This is my home. Why wouldn’t I come back?”

“Is this a visit? Or have you come home to stay?”

“Seth, really, it’s very nice to see you, but—”

“You didn’t answer my question. Why haven’t you come home before?”

“Because I didn’t want to,” she said, holding the smile. “Anything else?”

“Wendy,” Gina said sharply, “there’s no need to—”

“That’s okay, Gina. Wendy’s right. Where she lives, what she does is none of my business.” He stepped back and put a hand on the doorknob. “I probably should have called first.”

What had happened to all that calm certainty she’d felt when she first started down the steps and saw him? Seth was just someone from the past. He was nothing to her now. Then why was the sight of him making her feel as if she was seventeen again and he’d just come to pick her up for their very first date? It had been snowing then, too, and he’d come inside the house just as she started down the stairs....

“Yes,” she said, “you should have.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Well, it’s good seeing you again.”

“Thank you.”

“This is where you’re supposed to say it’s good seeing me again, too.”

“Goodbye, Seth.”

He turned away and opened the door. Then he hesitated. She saw his shoulders stiffen and suddenly he swung toward her, and she knew his anger had gotten the best of him.

“That’s it? Nine years of silence, and all you can manage is ‘Goodbye, Seth’?”

“I haven’t anything else to say to you.”

“Well, damn it, maybe you should. Maybe you should start with explaining why you treated me like a stranger after I flew to Norway to be with you. After a while, you might work your way around to ‘I’m sorry, Seth.’ How’s that sound?”

“I don’t owe you anything. You flew to Norway on your own. I didn’t ask you to come.”

His eyes bored into her as he reached behind him and slammed the door shut. The sound echoed off the walls. Out of the corner of her eye, Wendy saw her mother jump.

“No,” he said bitterly, “you sure as hell didn’t.”

“Please leave.”

“Great. It’s still a dismissal, but this time there’s a ‘please’ attached.”

Wendy came down the rest of the steps. Her heart was still banging away but now it was with fury. Who did he think he was?

“Get out.” She raised her hand, pointed at the door. “Get out of this house!”

“Wendy,” Gina said, “Seth—”

“Oh, I’m going. I’m going, all right. I just wanted you to know that...that—” He clamped his lips together. “The hell with this,” he muttered. “Gina? I’m sorry.”

“No. Seth, it isn’t your fault—”

He yanked the door open, stepped onto the porch into the swirling snow and was gone. Gina shut the door, leaned against it and let out her breath.

“That poor boy.”

“I can’t believe he did that.” Wendy was trembling. She wrapped her arms around herself and sank down on the bottom step. “Did he really think he could just...just barge in here and say...” Her head came up as her mother’s words penetrated. “What?”

“I said—”

“I heard what you said, Mother. Do you mean to tell me you feel sorry for Seth?” She grabbed the banister and pulled herself to her feet. “You heard the things he said to me! How can you feel any sympathy for him?”

“You could have been more polite!”

“Polite?” Wendy barked out a laugh. “He came here uninvited, put me through an inquisition, acted as if I owed him something, and you call him a poor boy?”

“You do owe him something. An apology. I’ve never said that to you, not in all these years, but you treated Seth—”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Well, you’re going to. That boy—”

“He’s not a boy, he’s a man. And if he thinks I’m going to grovel just because I had the courage to do what I knew I had to do—”

“That man,” Gina said sternly, “dropped everything he was doing to fly to your side. And you—” She broke off in the middle of the sentence, breathing hard, eyes suddenly welling with tears. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right,” Wendy said stiffly. “Say what you have to say.”

“No. Baby, I didn’t mean...” Gina stepped forward and took hold of her daughter’s shoulders. “You were right to concentrate all your energies on yourself. You had to. It’s the only way you got through the accident. It’s just that I saw how hurt Seth was. All through the years, I kept hoping you’d get in touch with him.”

“For what? I don’t love him.”

“I’m not talking about love, baby, I’m talking about doing the right thing. You could have called him just to say, I don’t know, that you appreciated what he’d done, that you hoped he was happy....”

“Is he?” The words were out before Wendy could stop them. “Alison says he’s seeing someone. Is he happy with her, Mom?”

“Oh, my,” Gina said softly. “You still care for him.”

“No!” Wendy wrenched free of her mother’s hands. “You just finished saying I should have asked him if he was happy. Can’t I ask it without you making it into something personal?”

“And it isn’t?”

“Of course not!” Wendy ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip. “Okay. You’re right. I mean, I should have gotten in touch with him at some point. I just... It’s hard, looking back, Mom. Can you understand that?”

“Yes, I guess I can. He reminds you of the past. And you only want to think about the future.” Gina sighed. “And you’re right. It’s none of my business.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Gina smiled. “I kind of got the message.”

Wendy’s

shoulders slumped. She sighed and put her arms around her mother. “Forgive me,” she said softly. “I shouldn’t be letting all this out on you.”

Gina returned the embrace. “And I shouldn’t have jumped on you. No matter how much Seth might have wanted to see you, you were right. He should have called before coming here.” She drew back and clasped Wendy’s face. “I know it must have been a shock to see him again, after such a long time.”

Wendy nodded. “It was.” She hesitated. “Mom, I know you think I treated Seth badly, but—”

“What I think,” Gina said gently, “is that I have to keep out of this.” Wendy sighed and sank down on the step again. Her mother sat down next to her. “Can I ask one question?”

“Of course.”

Gina brushed a curl back from Wendy’s forehead. “Did you break things off because you thought you might be in a wheelchair for the rest of your life?”

“That was part of it.”

“Honey, you have to know that wouldn’t have mattered to a man like Seth.”

“There was more to it than that.”

“I hope so,” Gina said gently, “because that kind of decision wasn’t yours to make.”

“You’re wrong, Mom. It was my decision. It couldn’t have been Seth’s. I knew he’d...he’d opt for the honorable thing. That he’d say my being unable to walk wouldn’t matter, but it did.”

“Wendy—”

“Don’t tell me it’s not true, Mother.” Wendy’s voice trembled. “I wasn’t me anymore. I’m still not the person I was, the person Seth knew and fell in love with....” She bit her lip. “Seth and I had our time, and we lost it.” She wouldn’t cry. Wouldn’t give in to the almost overwhelming desire to lay her head on her mother’s shoulder and sob. She hadn’t done that, not once, not even when she’d first awakened to a world in which pain was the only constant. Instead, she reached for Gina’s hands and held them tightly in hers. “But that’s not the reason I ended things.”

“You decided you weren’t in love with Seth.”

“We were wrong for each other.” It was the truth, in a way. “And I knew I had to do something about it.”