Free Whirlwind by Robin DeJarnett Page B

holding my breath.
     
    Jason turned his attention to a man in front of the platform who handed him a long, black cylinder. At our table, a regiment of waiters moved in, blocking my view while they cleared dishes and refilled glasses. The music faded, replaced by the clinking of metal on glass.
     
    The tinkling sound became deafening as everyone joined in, banging forks and spoons against their glasses, demanding that the bride and groom kiss. With a flourish, Mitch captured his wife and sealed his lips to hers. Amid the cheers Jason stood, his glass in one hand, a microphone in the other.
     
    He cleared his throat, and the room quieted. “Could the bride and groom please stand and hold hands?” he began. Mitch held one hand open to his new wife as they rose, and she easily fit both of hers into it. He covered them possessively with his other hand and looked at Jason.
     
    “Excellent. Mitch, I want you to remember this moment fondly for the rest of your life.” He bobbed his chin toward the couple’s intertwined fingers. “This is the last time you’ll ever have the upper hand.” Ann and Mitch looked down and chuckled along with the crowd.
     
    When the laughter died down, Jason continued, perfectly at ease in front of the crowd. “Thank you for inviting us all to witness the love you two share and to celebrate the final joining of your souls. It was obvious when you first met you were made for each other—at least it was obvious to Mitch. Ann, did you know that after your first date, Mitch called and gushed over you for hours?”
     
    Another laugh erupted, and Mitch nodded at Ann, whose eyes had widened in surprise. “That’s what I thought he was talking about, anyway. I kind of fell asleep in the middle. He kept me up till five in the morning with his blabbing.” The laughter continued.
     
    “I knew then you were special, Ann, and wasn’t surprised when Mitch told me he was going to ask for your hand. He was so sure you’d turn him down. Little did he know you’d called me the day before, asking if I thought he was ready to propose.” Mitch’s mouth dropped open and Ann beamed. “So really, this toast should be to me, right?” Jason grinned widely.
     
    Mitch and Ann picked up their crystal champagne flutes and tipped them to him, mouthing “thank you” as they did.
     
    Waiting for the crowd to quiet again, Jason raised his glass high.
     
    His voice, brimming with love for his brother and new sister-in-law, filled the room. “May the best day of your past be the worst day of your future. To the bride and groom.”
     
    “To the bride and groom,” we responded and drank. Lowering his glass, Jason’s gaze immediately met mine. Even from across the room I could see the blue in his eyes flare, and I found myself drowning yet again. Unfortunately, a tap on my shoulder freed me.
     
    “Miss, this is for you.”
     
    I turned to see a waiter with his hand out.
     
    “Thank you,” I said and looked down. He’d given me a purple napkin with Congratulations Ann and Mitch embossed on it. Below the gold script was the faint impression of handwriting. I flipped the napkin over and found a note written in a smooth, swooping hand.
     
Melissa,
It’s been too long. Will you save a dance for me?
Jason
     
    My heart flew to my throat. I looked up at Jason, who tipped his glass to me and bobbed his head in my direction. What could he possibly be thinking? I tilted my glass with a small smile, and we sipped in unison. As I sank back into my chair, his unwavering stare flooded me with an unfamiliar contentment. The vision of Jason kissing me— really kissing me—returned, stoking my desperate glimmer of hope into a small flame.
     
    My flight of fantasy came crashing down to earth when Tricia pulled Jason into his seat, her bright purple fingernails caressing his cheek, coaxing his face toward hers. My fingers closed around his note, crushing it, along with the happiness I’d briefly enjoyed. Tricia