Page 40 of Just What She Needed

"Oh, baby." The next instant Mel was beside her, rocking her gently back and forth. "Don't give up on yourself. You're just going through a bad time right now. You'll find your way."

Rhett sank into her sister's embrace and sighed. "From your lips to God's ear."

Right up until the moment she was kidnapped, Rhett enjoyed her forty-third birthday. It was a sunny, blistering hot July Saturday, a perfect day to stay inside and do nothing more constructive than go through old family photographs with Mel and remember other birthdays. Phone calls from Lilith and from her mother, who was once again at the spa in California, thanks to the discount coupon she received on her first visit, buoyed Rhett's spirits further. The mid-morning florist delivery, though, threatened to send her over the moon.

The huge bouquet of white roses, lavender, and lilacs was gorgeous, but it was the attached card that made her go hot and cold and shaky. Happy birthday, Beautiful! I wish I could be with you right now, but I'll see you soon and we'll do something special to celebrate. Rhys. Mel's smug smile was all it took to let Rhett know her sister made sure Rhys knew the date of her birth.

Lilith and Brendan arrived late in the afternoon with a box wrapped in shiny festive paper, a box that contained one of the most beautiful dresses Rhett had ever seen. Short and with a halter neckline that left the majority of her back bare, it was made of cool, soft silk with a matching overlay of chiffon, all in a delicate, melting shade of periwinkle. At the urging of her family, Rhett wore it to dinner that night, and felt elegant, sexy, and alluring, and not at all what she thought she'd feel like at forty-three.

But everything came crashing down when they were in the car leaving the restaurant, and Rhett realized she was being abducted.

"Dancing? You're taking me out dancing?" Damn it, they were on the interstate going seventy-five and there was no way she could throw herself from the car.

"Yes, Mother." Lilith's voice floated from the back seat, serene in the face of her mother's panic. "You love to dance, but you never go do it. So, tonight's your night to cut loose."

"There's nothing you can do about it," Mel added. "So quit bitching and enjoy it."

Rhett crossed her arms over her chest and glared out the window at the guard rail flashing by. "Just who am I supposed to dance with?"

"Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?" A chuckle accompanied Brendan's question.

"Thanks, Brendan," Rhett said with a glance over her shoulder at her grinning son-in-law. "But I still don't want to go."

"Suck it up, buttercup. You're going and that's all there is to it." Mel didn't sound the least bit sorry about her nefarious scheme.

"Fine."

When they reached the club it took the combined efforts of Mel, Brendan, and Lilith to get Rhett through the door. Once inside, though, she relaxed. Instead of the ultra-hip, trying-too-hard atmosphere she expected, this place had a cozy vibe despite its size. There were actually places to sit, and even with the large number of people on the dance floor, it was big enough that they weren't crowded shoulder to shoulder. The lighting was low without being non-existent, and the music was loud enough to hear without being deafening. And speaking of music, it wasn't the electronic dance shit she hated. The couples on the dance floor were flailing about to Journey's "Separate Ways" as they entered, and Rhett had to smile. Now that was something she could enjoy.

"An empty table," Lilith shrieked, and dashed off to claim it before someone else could get there.

As they made their way to the tall pub table Lilith and Brendan appropriated, Rhett cut her eyes at her sister.

"Okay, this place isn't that bad," she admitted.

"Are you kidding? It's great." Mel looked around with a smile. "The best part's the deejay. He's not one of those twits who thinks he's God just because he's able to put a needle on a record or load an mp3. He takes requests and actually plays what you want to dance to."

Their forward progress came to a halt as "Lips of an Angel" began, and a flood of people headed for the dance floor. Why people loved to sway together to a song about possible infidelity Rhett couldn't understand, but they were rushing forward like it was their wedding song.

"Here in a little while I'm going to go make my own request." Mel's voice intruded on her thoughts. "I'm going to get him to play "FutureSex/LoveSound" so we can get you out on the floor." She laughed at Rhett's shocked face. "Everyone has that one song that brings out their inner stripper, and that one's yours."

"There's something about that beat," Rhett admitted. Now that she was in the club, the thought of dancing wasn't so bad. "And have you listened to the lyrics? It's one of the sexiest songs I've ever heard. But I'm not going to dance to it by myself. Or with you, for that matter."

"Brendan said he'd dance with you."

"God, no." They were finally able to move toward the table again. "I'm not dancing with my son-in-law to a song that brings out my inner stripper."

"Hey, the night is young," Mel said as they took their places on the high stools. "Look around, and maybe you'll find a willing partner."

As it turned out, there were quite a few men willing to dance with her, but she turned them all down. Even though the music urged her to get out on the floor, she wasn't comfortable with strangers, and Brendan was her only partner for the few songs she danced to. Besides, Mel was quick to accept the offers of Rhett's rejected would-be suitors. In any case, Rhett was just enjoying being out and people watching as she sipped on a glass of watered-down rum and Coke.

Two hours later she grew restless. Pathetic as it might have been, she was ready to go home and go to bed. Lilith and Brendan returned to the table, disheveled from getting down and dirty to Prince's "FUNKnROLL," and Rhett decided to tell them she was ready to end the evening. Before she could speak, Mel's cell phone vibrated its way across the table as a call came in. After a quick glance at the screen, Mel sighed and slid off her stool.

"Sorry, y'all. I need to take this."

Rhett watched her walk away, the phone pressed to one ear, her free hand covering the other. She turned back to her daughter and son-in-law, but when she saw how much fun they were having, she couldn't bring herself to suggest leaving. Oh, well, she was forty-three, not a hundred and three, so it wouldn't kill her to stay a little longer.

Mel returned to the table, out of breath and with a twinkle in her eye.