Author: Kristan Higgins

“Did you have fun at your Lighthouse Dance?” I asked, dimly remembering Trish primping much as I had today.

“Oh, sure. Did you?”

“I’ve never been to one before.”

“Really? How come?” Sam asked curiously.

“Because, dummy, I was fat and hideous and awkward and there was no boy on earth who wanted to be around me. Don’t you remember?” I gave a sharp laugh, irritated at having to revisit my gawky adolescence for a second time.

“No, Millie,” Sam answered slowly, looking at me gravely. “That’s not how I remember you at all.”

His words caused an odd wiggle in my knees, and I looked away abruptly. My cheeks felt hot as I surveyed the crowd. A chaperone couple joined the dance fray, braving the heaving bodies to do their duty.

“Do you have a date?” I asked above the noise.

“Nope. Just me.”

“Too bad Carol dumped you.”

“I dumped her, kiddo.”

“Of course you did, honey. My mistake.” Sam laughed and shook his head. “So, Sam, what are you going to do next year when Danny’s at college?” I asked, hoping belatedly that it wasn’t a painful subject.

“Actually, I was just thinking about that myself. I thought I might try to finish my degree. I just have a couple courses to go. Then I’m thinking about getting a master’s in criminology.”

“Sam, that would be great! Good for you!”

“Well, you know, I’d finally have the time. It would be good to finish, too.”

“That is just fantastic, buddy.”

Joe appeared at my side. “Hey, Sam!” he said, shaking hands.

“Hi, Joe. Beautiful date you got there,” Sam replied.

“You bet. The prettiest. And hey, pretty woman, you want to dance?”

I glanced at Sam, who gave me a wink. “I’ll take pity on you later,” I called to him as Joe led me onto the dance floor. The DJ was playing a nice slow song by Norah Jones, and Joe pulled me close against his warmth.

“Dancing always makes me horny,” he whispered into my hair.

“Joe! Shh! We’re chaperones!”

“Hmm. Want to duck into the AV room?”

“No, you dope,” I laughed, but it was with an edge. “Behave yourself.”

We danced for a minute or two more, and I watched the kids swaying around us. Danny and Sarah were nearby, Sarah’s eyes closed, her cheek on Danny’s shoulder. So beautiful. I glanced over at Sam, who was standing in the classic cop stance, feet slightly apart, hands clasped behind his back. He glanced at me and smiled, and I gave him a little wave.

At that moment, Joe decided to kiss me—a pretty intense kiss, too. I pulled away as best I could with his arm around my waist. “Joe! Come on! We’re chaperones! We can’t make out on the dance floor,” I hissed.

And then it came to me. That unmistakable taste of alcohol. Not wine. Something else.

“Joe, have you been drinking?” I whispered in horror.

“Well, I did have a little nip out there in the parking lot.” He smiled down at me.

“A nip of what? And why?”

“Jeez, Millie, calm down. Just a little blackberry schnapps, that’s all. For old time’s sake.”

As if I had psychic powers, I glanced to a corner of the room where three boys stood huddled together. One of them pointed at Joe, and then they disappeared out the door.

“Joe.” I stopped dancing. “Did you give your schnapps to anybody?” Though my heart had begun to pound in my throat, I forced my voice to stay low.

“What? Oh, yeah, I gave it to a couple of kids who were hanging around. What’s the matter, Millie? It’s not a big deal.”

“Joe, you idiot,” I whispered harshly. “It’s against the goddamn law to give alcohol to minors! What if one of them is driving tonight? What if they hit somebody? Christ, Sam would throw you in jail for this!”

People were beginning to look at us, standing still and arguing as we were. I stalked off the dance floor and out the same door the boys had left. Joe followed.

“Where are they?” I demanded outside.

“Who?”

“The boys you gave the alcohol to, Joe! Where are they?” I had to stop my hand from slapping his face.

“There.” He pointed, and I stomped over to a big maple at the edge of the parking lot. The boys looked startled. One of them, Kyle, I thought, was in Danny’s class.

“Give it to me.” I held out my hand.

“Uh, what are you talking about?” one of them attempted.

“Now!” I barked.

Kyle pulled the flat schnapps bottle from his waistband. “Sorry, Dr. Barnes.”

I unscrewed the metal cap and dumped the ridiculous drink on the ground. “Do you know that Danny Nickerson’s father is inside there? Do you know what he would do to you if he found you drinking? Were any of you planning on driving tonight?”

“Um, well, we were gonna go home together.”

“My God!” I surveyed the three of them for a minute, their eyes wide, nervously shifting. “Do you boys happen to know how Danny’s grandparents died?”

They shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, no, Dr. Barnes.”

“They were killed by a drunk driver. A teenage drunk driver. Those are Officer Nickerson’s parents I’m talking about.”

To their credit, they looked ashamed.

“I’m calling you boys a cab,” I said flatly. “You’re going home. Who are your dates? I’ll tell them.”

“Dr. Barnes, are you going to tell Danny’s dad?” Kyle asked worriedly.

I looked them over. “No. Not this time. This time you get a ‘Thank God a grown-up caught me and I’m not dead’ card. And on Monday, you’re coming to the Cape Cod Clinic, and we’ll all have a nice long look at drunk-driving crashes on the Internet. And you’ll be volunteering at the senior center twice a week for the entire school year. And if you f**k up again, I’m telling your parents, your principal and Officer Nickerson. And I will personally kick your asses into the middle of next week. Got it?”

They nodded miserably.

“Wonderful.” I took a deep breath. “Now. Does anyone have a cell phone?”

Ten minutes later, the boys were on their way home in a cab.

My anger at them faded as they drove off. After all, they were just teenagers, and most teenagers are stupid at one point or another. Unfortunately, that particular brand of stupidity often resulted in death. If I had scared them, good. I took a few deep breaths.

Now for the stupid adult I had to deal with.

Joe was sitting on the hood of my car, hands clasped between his knees, looking very contrite.

“I’m sorry, Millie,” he said quietly.

Fresh fury raced through my veins. “Joe…I just don’t know how you could do such a stupid, awful thing,” I said, my voice breaking. He hopped off the car and put his arm around me.

“Millie, I’m sorry,” he said earnestly. “I just wanted the boys to have a good time. It was like being back in high school, this whole Lighthouse Dance thing. I mean, I did a little drinking in high school, and it didn’t hurt me.”

“Joe, shut up,” I said harshly, shrugging off his arm. “You can’t justify giving those children alcohol. Please just shut up.” Hot, angry tears slipped down my face.

“Oh, Millie, don’t cry. Come on, let’s go back in and have fun.”

Dumbfounded, I looked up at him, the street lamp haloing him like an angel. A stupid angel.

And then I knew. I didn’t love Joe. He wasn’t the person I’d thought. He was a very handsome, charming dope. Not malicious. Just…oblivious. All the qualities I thought I’d seen over the years…they weren’t there. The Joe Carpenter I loved existed in my imagination only. The man standing in front of me was just some guy who happened to be too handsome for his own good.

I started to cry in earnest.

“Shit, Millie, come on. Don’t cry. I’m sorry. Nothing bad happened. You scared the hell out of those boys. It will be years before they take another drink. Come on, sweetie.”

“Joe…” I hiccupped. “Are you drunk?”

“No, no. I only had a glass of wine at Jill’s and just a little hit of the schnapps. I’m fine.”

“Good. Because I want you to go. Take my car back to my house, get your truck and just go home. I’ll get a ride.”

“Millie, come on. Don’t be like this.”

“I’m sorry, Joe. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

And tomorrow I would break up with him.

Staring at me for a long moment, Joe finally nodded. I fished my keys out of my bag, handed them to him and tripped back into the school to the girls’ bathroom. My face in the mirror looked as if I’d aged ten years. My makeup was ruined. The dress…who even cared? And now I had to go back into the gym and chaperone my nephew’s dance and act normal. My eyes welled again.

Don’t think about it, I ordered myself. Just wait till you get home and deal with it then.

I blotted my face as best I could with the grainy paper towels, blew my nose and fluffed my hair. Danny was having a wonderful time, and I didn’t want to make a scene. And for Danny, I would do anything. I heaved a great sigh, blotted my eyes again and went back to the gym. I headed to the punch table and downed a glass of sugary pink liquid, then asked for another one.

Thus fortified, I turned and surveyed the dancers again. There were Danny and Sarah, slow dancing again, just barely shuffling their feet. Jill and her husband were cutting the rug nicely, dancing with energy and symmetry that bespoke ballroom dancing lessons. She waved energetically at me and I smiled and waved back. There was Sam, dancing with a woman I didn’t know. He looked happy. The lump in my throat swelled again, aching sharply. I turned away for a minute, fanning my face ineffectively with my hand, tried a few more deep breaths. Hopefully, the dim lights would hide my teary eyes.

Someone tapped my shoulder. Sam.

“What’s the matter, honey?” he asked.

I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t start crying again and shook my head.

“Is it Joe?” he guessed, taking my hand as if knowing that a hug would start me bawling. I nodded. Sam looked at the floor. “What can I do?”

“Can you drive me home later?” I squeaked.

“You bet.”

I looked around for a minute or two, waiting for the breathless, sobby feeling to leave me. The slow song ended and something livelier started up.

Sam tugged my hand. “Come on, kiddo. You said you’d take pity on me and dance.”

“No, not right now, Sam.” I swallowed and smiled, bravely, I thought.

“But this is our song,” he smiled, bending his knees to look in my eyes.

“We don’t have a song.”

“Well, we should, and it should be this one.” Without waiting for an answer, he dragged me onto the floor and promptly stepped on my foot.

“Ouch!”

“Whoops.”

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“Of course not! Come on, kiddo. Don’t just stand there. I might step on you again.”

“Are you trying to make me laugh?”

“No. Do not laugh. That’s an order. Whoops. Sorry. Come on, move those feet.”

I gave in and shuffled sluggishly. Sam gave me a quick hug. “It’ll be okay,” he whispered, twirling me around before I could start crying.

“You’re a terrible dancer,” I said above the noise, feeling a smile tug my lips despite the tears in my eyes.

“Takes one to know one,” he shot back, dipping and nearly dropping me.

“Jesus, Sam, be careful. Precious cargo and all that.”