Love Letters From Ladybug Farm - Donna Ball [107]
When the bride and groom had their first dance and the DJ cranked up the music, Dominic caught Lindsay’s hand and pulled her, laughingly protesting, onto the dance floor. Cici grabbed a glass of wine and sank down at a table in the shade across from Paul and Derrick. She had just taken her first sip when Richard dropped his hands on her shoulders.
“Come on,” he said, drawing her to her feet. “They’re playing our song.”
She groaned. “I’m tired. Besides, we don’t have a song.”
He said, “We do now.”
She listened, and smiled, and let him lead her to the dance floor to the music of “Through the Years.”
“Lori said you built the dance floor,” he said as they fell into an easy, natural rhythm.
“It wasn’t hard.”
“She’s been showing me all the things you’ve done to this place.”
Cici tilted her head up to look at him. “You didn’t know I could use power tools?”
“All in all,” he admitted, “I think that’s something I was better off not knowing. There’s a lot I don’t know about you, I guess.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “We’ve been apart a long time.”
They danced in silence for a while. His fingers absently stroked her hair. He said, “You were right, you know.”
“I usually am.”
He smiled. “It’s been great being back on the East Coast, seeing trees that are taller than a palm, spending time with Lori, and you ... but this isn’t the life for me. I don’t belong here.”
She almost missed her step, and when she looked up at him she was surprised by the stab of disappointment she felt. “But—what about the dream? What about retirement? You made so many plans!”
He chuckled. “Hell, sweetie, if this is what you call retirement, I’m going back to L.A. where I can get some rest. You people work too hard for me.”
She said, “It’s not like we have tornados and weddings every day.”
The look he gave her was both amused and regretful. “If it wasn’t a tornado, it would be something else. But it’s not that. It’s just ... there’s no room for me here. You don’t need me anymore. If you ever did.”
She rested her head against his shoulder again, and was quiet for a time. Then she asked, “What was this fascination you had with a horse farm, anyway? You don’t even like horses.”
For a moment he seemed surprised, and then he chuckled. “You don’t remember, do you? When we were first married, that’s all we talked about. Moving to the country, buying a horse farm. That was the big dream.”
Cici looked at him for a long time, sadly. “No,” she said finally. “I don’t remember.”
The music faded into a hip-hop number, and they left the dance floor. Richard’s arm was around her waist, and she leaned into him. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you, but I’m not sorry you came. I think it’s been good for us.”
His fingers squeezed her waist. “Maybe we can try relating to each other on a more adult level a little more often now.”
She pretended to consider that as they reached the table where Paul and Derrick sat, looking completely relaxed and as comfortable as though they had never been apart. They were sipping wine and pointing out to each other the idiosyncrasies of various members of the wedding party. “That would be different,” she agreed. “We could give it a try.”
“Now,” he said, holding her chair for her, “all I have to do is figure out what to do with eighty-seven acres of prime Virginia horse country, fenced and cross-fenced.”
Paul stopped talking in the middle of a sentence. Derrick looked at Paul. Paul looked at Derrick. They both looked at Richard.
Derrick said, “I don’t suppose you would entertain an offer?”
Paul, Derrick, Richard, and Dominic moved through the crowd,