Part 4: The First Dance
When we came downstairs, Noah looked at us suspiciously.
“You were gone a long time.”
“I know,” I said.
He looked at Mom.
“Did Chrissy get in trouble?”
Mom laughed.
“No.”
Then, to my complete surprise, she walked directly toward him.
“Noah, can I have the first dance?”
His eyes widened.
“Mrs. Jane.”
“Yes?”
“This isn’t prom.”
I burst out laughing.
Mom ignored him.
She turned on music from her phone and held out her hands.
Noah sighed dramatically but accepted.
For the next thirty seconds, he attempted to lead while Mom repeatedly stepped in the wrong direction.
Finally, Noah stopped.
“Mrs. Jane.”
Mom looked at him innocently.
“What?”
“Chrissy dances better.”
Mom nodded.
“That is exactly why she’s your date.”
Then her smile faded into something gentler.
She looked directly at him.
“Thank you for staying.”
Noah blinked.
He looked genuinely confused, as if she’d thanked him for breathing.
Then he glanced at me.
“She stays too.”
Mom closed her eyes for a moment.
I knew immediately what those three words had done to her.
For years, she had believed the friendship moved mostly in one direction.
That Noah needed me.
That I protected him.
That I included him.
But Noah had never seen our friendship that way.
Neither had I.
We stayed for each other.
That was all.
