Page 176 of Two-Step
“Try not to step on my toes,” she teases.
“I’ll do my best,” he says, even though we all know the chances of Iris treading on his toes are way higher.
A crowd has assembled around the parquet dance floor, and I spot Sally and head for her. Iris’s maid of honor greets me with a hug.
“That was so beautiful.”
I kiss her cheek. “Thanks. It was.”
We turn and watch Iris and Ramon laughing as they dance. Ramon keeps it to a simple box step, knowing how much dancing stresses Iris out, but she’s relaxed enough now and having fun.
“You two being here for her means so much,” I tell Sally.
“We wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” The smile she gives me is tinged with sadness, the acknowledgment that she and Ramon are the closest thing to family Iris has.
Before today, that is.
I’m Iris’s family now, and I plan to build a family around her. With her at its center. Kids are a long way off, but we’ll get there. For now, we’re a family of two. And my family is hers. She bonded immediately with Val last Christmas, and she’s always hadNoncwrapped around her finger.
And every time Mom sees her, she wears an excited smile. It doesn’t matter that Mom can’t find Iris’s name most days, but when Iris joins me on a video call, and every time we visit together, Mom lights up when she sees her, recognizing her as someone she loves.
I turn and find Mom still at her table with Lorraine andNonc.We’re up next.
“I’ll catch up with y’all later, Sal,” I say, and head to our table.
Mom’s eyes find me and awe overtakes her. “You look so handsome.” She’s told me about six times today.
“Thanks, Mom.” I offer her my hand. “Are you ready for our dance?”
Joy like I’ve never seen fills her eyes. “Oh, yes.” She blinks back tears. At least they are happy tears. Today is a good day, and I’m grateful.
I take her hand and escort her from the table. Her balance isn’t what it used to be, and when I hugged her on Wednesday after we got back in town, I could tell she’s lost a little more weight—probably muscle.
Still, today is a good day. One that I’ll remember even if she doesn’t. And as I lead her onto the dance floor as Iris and Ramon slip from it, I know that right now, in this moment, my mother is ecstatic.
The band strikes up “I Hope You Dance” by Lee Ann Womack. Iris suggested it for us. And when I first listened to the lyrics, I’ll admit I got choked up. I know its words are ones Mom would say to me if she could find them.
About taking the chances that come your way.
About love being the mistake that’s worth making.
Because how can I really regret the choices she made to love my father, to leave her ballet career behind, when without that I might not even exist? I might not be where I am now. I know for sure she doesn’t regret her decisions.
And that gives me some peace.
“This song is about dancing,” Mom says, her eyes alight. “I like it.”
“I’m glad. Iris picked it out.”
Mom’s gaze finds my bride. Iris waves to us. Mom waves back. “That’s her,” she says. It’s not a question. She’s sure.
“That’s her,” I say.
“I like her,” Mom says.
“I like her too.”
Mom aims her gaze at me, looking about as stern as she did in her most advanced ballet classes. “Remember that. Always.”
