Evolving Dreams (New Beginnings Series) (20 page)

Trace set about power washing the deck and straightening up the chairs to fit more in. He cleaned the grill and generally worked outside to get things ready. After a while he realized he was running low on charcoal, but decided to pick that up when he went to pick up the beer keg and some ice.

Meg worked around the kitchen to prepare the food. She had huge bowls of coleslaw and potato salad to make, as well as getting the hamburgers mixed and pattied. As women do at times like these, she worried that she might not have enough food, but—also as women do at times like these, she would end up having way too much.

Trace came into the house around noon just as she finished icing a huge Texas sheet cake. The whole house smelled of warm chocolate and his stomach growled. “Meg, are you getting hungry? It’s about lunch time.”

She looked startled. “Already?”

He reached over and dipped a finger in the icing pan for a taste. “Mmm.”

She glanced around the kitchen. “We have food. I’m sure we can find something here for lunch.”

“I have to go out for ice and charcoal . . . and the keg. I think I’ll find all of that at the liquor store so it shouldn’t take long. Let me just pick up sandwiches or something. It’ll be easier.”

“Oh, okay . . . if you don’t mind.”

“How does Quizno’s sound. There’s one right by the store.”

“Sure. I’ll just take a grilled chicken salad—without the bleu cheese.”

Trace kissed her to distract her from dipping his finger in the pan of chocolate frosting again. “Your wish is my command.”

She flicked her dishtowel at him as he walked away. “I saw that!”

“Have a heart,” he said as he slid the back door open. “You were finished with it anyway.”

“I know. I can save the pan for you to lick after lunch.”

“Well, if you really want to,” he teased as he slid the door closed.

After lunch they finished setting up for the party. Sonny and Charley were in and out delivering seating, food, and more ice. By six o’clock they had a fire roaring in the pit, burgers on the grill with hotdogs waiting. The food was set out buffet style on the kitchen bar and the beer, soda and wine coolers were icing in large tubs beside the deck.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Their parents were the first to arrive. It must have been a mom-thing, coming early to see if Meg and Trace needed help. Shortly after they arrived there was a steady stream of guests. Sonny had set up a sound system on the deck and had hours of music programmed to play. About thirty minutes into the party Meg stood just outside the back door and looked around. Everyone seemed to be mingling and she hadn’t had to coerce anyone to eat. There were plenty of people filling plates, with a bottleneck forming at the food bar in the dining area. She didn’t worry too much about that. People would work their way outside once their plates were filled to make room for others.

Everyone had dressed for the cool October ocean air in sweatshirts and jeans. There was a warm zone around the fire pit and JoJo and Trish had brought over an outdoor heater for the deck so the secondary seating area would be comfortable as well. Meg made her way down the deck steps to do her own mingling. As she walked past several groups of people she caught bits and pieces of conversation.

She overheard a couple of SDDI students complimenting Trace on his house. “Man, if
I
lived here I’d be swimming out there everyday. Don’t you love being able to just walk out your back door and jumping right in?”

Sonny, who was standing in the group snorted. “Yeah, Trace, you probably swim out there everyday.”

Trace laughed, “After BUD/S, you kind of never want to get in the ocean again, to tell you the truth.”

Meg walked on past toward the fire as the kids started asking questions about the infamous SEAL training. Was it really as rough as they had all heard it was? She found a seat on one of the logs next to Declan and some his friends. “Hey, guys!”

They pulled her right into their conversation and pretty soon a couple of Trace’s teammates walked over to ask them if they wanted to play some tag football. They all jumped at the chance and Meg moved on to mingle with some of the SEAL wives. Val was full of questions about the show and Meg and Tobi were happy to answer them.

“That Salsa was really hot!” Val exclaimed. “When Javier and I were first dating we used to go to this really cool Salsa club to dance, but no once danced like you did last night with that Sergei kid.”

“Well, ballroom Salsa is a lot different than street Salsa. Both are a lot of fun, though.” Meg smiled at her. “I’m having a hard time imagining Javier at a dance club.”

“Well, I couldn’t get him in one now if he could see me inside through the window and I were on fire,” Val joked. “I guess when we were ‘courting’ it was easier to get him to humor me. Gotta love ‘im anyway!”

Pretty soon the topic shifted to how Val’s pregnancy was progressing and then on to kids. Meg glanced around and noticed a few of the SDDI kids had found a spot apart from the football game and were dancing—nothing fancy or showy at all. Just for fun.

She went in search of her parents to make sure they were doing okay in this crowd. She found her dad and Michael holding court at the grill, of course. JoJo and Titus were there, shooting the breeze with them. She had a feeling she knew just where to find Sheila and Claire. Sure enough, they were in the kitchen refilling the already half-full chip and dip trays and tidying up the kitchen.

“What’re you two doing in here? You’re supposed to be out there having fun . . . you’re guests at this party,” Meg teased.

“We
are
having fun. We get to visit with more people in here. Everyone comes through the food line eventually.” Sheila snapped a chip clip on the tortilla bag and set it aside.

“I guess that’s true.” Meg started picking up discarded paper plates and stuffed them into a trash bag in the corner of the kitchen.

Claire asked, “Meg, we didn’t know what you wanted to do with the crab shells. We started putting them in a separate trash bag and set it out by the garbage cans. We were afraid of stinking up the house if we left them in here.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. I never thought of that. Thanks!”

Sheila was wiping down the countertop next to the sink. “It’s such a shame Monte and ‘Tiana weren’t able to stay over for the party. I didn’t get a chance to catch up with Monte. It was nice to see her at dinner last night, though.”

“Yeah,” Meg said. “I owe them big-time. It was so nice of them to come in and help me out. They had other obligations to get back to, though.”

The three of them tidied up a little while longer and chatted. Her mom and Claire seemed content enough in the kitchen, so Meg decided not to argue with them about coming out to join the party. And they were right. In the short time she was in there with them, a half dozen or so guests wandered in, visited for a few minutes, then wandered back out.

Pretty soon Marcy popped her head in the sliding door. “There you are, Meg. Do you have a few minutes?”

“Sure.” She moved toward the door and followed Marcy down the steps to the beach where they found a couple of empty camp chairs. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to thank you again for the great job you did on the show and in the workshops. And this party . . . it’s so nice of you to do this. I don’t know when you had the time to plan. I’m sure it was a big expense too.”

“Well, Trace gets the credit for most of the planning and execution. And we split the cost, because it turned out to be combination party for us and for his friends.” Meg glanced at her sheepishly, “I hope
that’s
okay.”

“Of course! This is great. I just wanted to say that we sure didn’t expect a party, but it was a nice thing for you to do. I might be able to come up with a little contribution to help out with the expenses. It wouldn’t be much, but we could do something.”

“No . . . I wanted to do this. I appreciate the offer, but this was my idea and our plans. Don’t give it another thought.”

“Okay . . .” Marcy patted her hand. “Thanks again.”

Meg looked around at all the guests for a moment and shook her head. “I can’t believe it’s almost over. I have no clue where I go from here.”

Marcy looked at her in concern. “I can’t believe it either. I hope you’ll stay in touch and let us know where you end up. What you end up doing. Will you?”

“Sure. I appreciate your support these past few weeks.” She sighed, “I guess all that’s left next week is to tie up loose ends and do those few Q&A sessions we have planned. You’ll let me know if there is anything else you want from me while I’m still here next week.”

“Yes. I can’t think of anything now, but I’m sure I can come up with something,” Marcy
laughed.

Estelle wandered over to ask Marcy a work-related question, so Meg excused herself. Charley was pouring beer from the keg and Meg stopped to talk to him.

“Hi, Meg. Want a beer?” he asked as he offered her his cup, the tips of his red hair glowing in the firelight.

“No thanks. I’m not much of a beer drinker. Are you having fun?”

“Yeah. Those kids are tougher football players than I thought they’d be. Gave us a run for our money.” He shook his head.

Meg laughed and jumped as she felt a muscular arm snake around her waist from behind. “Trace, I hope that’s you.”

She felt him kiss the side of her neck as Charley announced, affronted, “Of course it’s McKenna. If it wasn’t I’d’ve already had him pinned to the ground.”

Trace laughed, “I’m glad we have a full moon and lots of torches lit then, so you were able to recognize me without your NVGs.” He snorted, “It probably would have taken you and at least two other guys to take me down anyway.”

“Really . . .” Charley drawled.

Before Meg knew what was up, Trace had gently moved her to the side as he and Charley went after each other. A couple of the other guys came over to watch them over the deck railing and call out advice and encouragement. She wasn’t much for rough housing so she just shook her head and moved on.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

A while later, most everyone
had had their fill of food, but was still enjoying the party. The number of dancers had doubled. Even a few of Trace’s friends’ wives and girlfriends had lured them out to dance. After watching the kids for a while, the women decided it wouldn’t be too intimidating and after a couple of beers their guys’ defenses were down too. Stevie Ray Vaughan was just starting to sing about his
Pride and Joy
when Trace found Meg and asked her to dance.

“Wow! I didn’t even have to beg this time,” she laughed.

He led her to the makeshift sandy “dance floor” and they kicked their flip-flops off beside a pile of other shoes. He twirled her out then up hard against him as she laughed delightedly. He held her tightly against him, her hand in his other hand, and off they went. She could hear his friends hooting and hollering in surprise, which caught the attention of the other dancers and most of the other guests. All activity stopped as they watched Meg and Trace tear up the “dance floor.” When the song ended Trace looked around in chagrin as he and Meg went to find their shoes.

“Don’t look now, but you’re secret’s out,” Meg teased.

“What secret is that?”

“That dancing is in your DNA and all it takes is a couple of beers to break it loose.”

Claire came trotting up to them and Meg thought she saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. “Trace! I haven’t seen you dance in years.”

Trace looked at her sternly. “That’s because you haven’t been around to torture me into it.” Then he laughed and hugged her. “Of course I can dance, Mom. I had to inherit something from
you
, didn’t I?”

“When I look at you, Trace, I see so much of your dad. He’d be so proud of you. But I have to admit, I’m glad there’s a little bit of me in there down deep somewhere.”

Charley, Sonny and Titus crowded around them, clapping Trace on the back. Sonny laughed, “Just want to warn you, McKenna, the team’s taking a vote on your new nickname. The smart money’s on Twinkle Toes. My personal favorite is Jazz Hands, though.”

Just as Trace opened his mouth to respond there was a commotion up on the deck. He cursed under his breath and started toward the steps, the guys falling in behind him. “Sean . . . what are you doing here?”

Meg hadn’t been able see over the larger men standing around her and when she heard Trace say Sean’s name she stiffened. She felt someone come up beside her and take hold of her arm. It was Tobi.

“Well . . . looks like my party invitation got lost in the mail,” Sean slurred.

Meg started toward the deck hoping to head off the scene that was sure to come. Tobi stayed right with her.

“Come on, Sean, let’s go inside,” Trace said as he reached for Sean’s arm.

“No, no, no . . . the party’s out here . . .” he trailed off as he noticed his dad and Claire hurrying over toward them. “Wow. And here’s Mom and Dad too. Looks like the whole family made it.”

Meg reached the group just as Claire and Michael did. Behind her Anthony glanced at JoJo and they both started steering the crowd back down to the beach, silently agreeing to try to distract everyone from the drama unfolding on the deck. Most everyone from the SDDI knew the circumstances of Sean’s leaving, to some degree or other. Though all of Trace’s teammates knew Sean was no longer Meg’s partner, only his closest friends knew all the details.