When Mitchell Returned

Part 3

Author's Note: A shout out to my sister SallyPoyzer who read an early draft of this and made some very useful suggestions. You are the best, sis! Also to beconthefarm whose response to this encouraged me to post it.

It was not too late. There was an hour left before the party started.

She phoned Mitchell first, her heart thundering over the waves. He did not pick up. She left a message, telling him the dance was still on. Then she called everyone else she had uninvited, apologising, her face hot as she urged them to attend.

"Happy, God?" she asked out-loud when she finished. The warmth inside her chest flared. Pamela.

"She doesn't have to know, God". Although she knew Pamela would find out. The seagull let out a squawk and her throat constricted. She pressed the call button.

"Hi Jacey," Pamela trilled. "So glad you've called. I was just about to ring you. Of course you can come to the dance."

"What?"

"I was feeling jealous about you and Mitchell, of course. Silly me. Dillon is back in town."

"He is?" Jacey gathered her courage. "I was feeling jealous too, Pamela. I sabotaged your dance. I told Mitchell, Jed, all of them, that it was cancelled."

"You did what?" Pamela screeched. "How dare you?"

"I've re-invited them," she said hastily. "Forgive me, Pamela."

There was a long pause. "They're all re-invited?Like I re-invited you?"

"Yes."

"You're forgiven then. Must go, Jacey, Dillion's just pulled up."

A grin overtook Jacey's face as she scooped up the white froth and splattered it over the filthy foam. "That's not how you do it though, is it God? You don't cover the dirt, you take it away."

She bent down to throw the kelp back into the sea. A gust of wind sprang up and it began to writhe in her hand. She spun around with it, until she could not spin fast enough and the kelp slapped itself around her body. Laughter shot out from her, filling the beach with the sound. She did not need Pamela or Mitchell even to make her happy. The dance of life with God was enough.

"Hey," came a shout from behind her. She pivoted, aware of her hair flapping around her face and the skirt of her sundress clinging to her legs. Mitchell was coming towards her, all stylish in his white shirt. She took a step backwards and the water rose over her ankle.

"What's going on, Jacey?" Mitchell asked, his serious tone a contrast to the cheerful air she remembered.

Her smile faltered. "I did the wrong thing, Mitchell. I lied to you about Pamela's dance, because I didn't want you to spend the whole night gazing into her eyes". She wanted to turn and dive into the surf and swim and swim and swim away from him. Instead of her discovering he was less of a man than he appeared to be, he now knew how low she could stoop. He would turn and walk away.

He did not move. "You apologised already on that message you left on my phone, remember? I tried to call you back to say I was coming for the weekend, anyway. I was hoping to take you out, to the dance or elsewhere."

"I'm not going to the dance".

"I won't go either, then. I told Pamela I'd only go if you were."

Joy drenched her but still she wanted him to really understand. "I've spent too long doing what Pamela wants. I don't want to do that anymore, but I'd like to dance with you. You'll have to do better than the kelp though. It's a wild dancer and tremendously fun. Look how wet my hands are." She held out her damp fingers to him and he captured them.

"Are you suggesting my dancing is so terrible, I'd be beaten by seaweed?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "I assure you I have improved since I was a boy. I'll only bump into you half the time now."

She tittered at that, then broke into a real laugh.

He tugged at her hands, saying, "Come with me cousin, back to the house. I have a rose waiting for you on the piano. It was a prize for the winner of our musical race, but we can get your mother to choose the best dancer instead. I'll warn you, I am going home with that rose."

"Ha," she snorted, "We'll see about that," but she was glowing so much on the inside, that a huge smile bloomed on her face and he mirrored it. Then he bent down to give her soft warm lingering kiss on the cheek.

"My Mom told me all the girls like kisses," he said.

"Well she was wrong," Jacey retorted. "All the girls do not."

He quirked his brown eyebrows at her.

"But I do," she conceded. "Even from cousins. Not that you are close enough to be a real cousin."

"I'm glad about that," he said as a wave crashed at their feet, drenching the hem of her skirt and the bottom of his trousers. They scrambled together towards the dry sand, running through the swirled-up foam until they reached the lookout, his hand still in hers.

Jacey shot one glance backwards before she left the beach. The foam had been restored by the wave to its pure white perfection and the seagull was gone.

The end.

Thank you so much for reading right to the end! Please vote if you think the journey was worthwhile, and feel free to comment.