One Last Dance

Chapter One

My mom didn't have work over break so I got to drive her car. I liked her car way better than mine considering mine was literally falling apart just sitting there. She'd woken me up at eight this morning and sent me out to get her special eggnog that she just has to have every year. It was the third store that I went to, that I finally found it.

As I parked the car in the driveway, I noticed that my family was already here and the dancing lessons had most likely already begun.

Every year my family has this big New Years party. But it was no rave, like the youngsters (as they put it) always threw; it was classy. With glittering gowns and spiffy suits, puckery punch and extravagant eggnog. So I guess English class had taught be something; alliteration.

But my all time favorite part was the choreographed ballroom dance that the whole family took part in the last minutes before midnight. And at the end, you'd kiss your partner which was usually their spouse. But my least favorite part about that was I never had a kissable partner. I was always stuck with one of my younger cousins who kissed me on the cheek all slobbery and immature. I dreaded it, but I loved helping choreograph. Now let me tell you, I'm no ballroom dancer, but I will say those ballet lessons my mom stuck me in when I was five have really paid off.

I struggled to open the front door with three bags full of eggnog in my arms. Closing it quietly, I slipped off my raggedy Ugg boots and kicked them to the side. I stepped back and unfortunately my foot landed in a nice cold puddle of melting snow. Perfect.

My wet sock stuck to my foot as I walked through the kitchen doorway getting slapped in the face by the poorly hung mistletoe. By now my hands were pulsating because the plastic bags were starting to cut off my circulation. I set them down on the counter over looking the "ballroom" that was currently being used for dance practice. The tables were pushed to the sides of the room and my family was strewn every which way. Scrunching up and shaking my hands to get the blood flowing again, I walked over to the fridge and opened up the left side. I could hear the music from the kitchen; it was the Waltz of the Flowers from the Nutcracker. I swayed along while placing the cartons into the fridge and closed it, spinning back to the counter being careful not to run into the island.

Our yearly choreographers for the event were an elderly couple whose names were Jasper and Violet, but this year was going to be different. Jasper had been fighting cancer for some time now and we all said that the dancing was helping. But I guess not as much as we'd liked it to. He'd lost the fight a few months back and it was hard for all of us. They were close family friends and for me it was like losing a grandfather.

It was 11:15, meaning I only had 45 minutes before the big lunch break and greeting the family. They are insane; especially during the weeks before Christmas and New Years.

My thoughts were cut short when I heard my mom calling for me, "Katherine Indigo!" She only used my first and middle name around important people or if I was in trouble. Great. My horribly long name, thanks to my parents, is Katherine Indigo Jackson, but I hate my middle name. I always go by my nickname; Katie.

"Did you get the eggnog?!" She was shouting from the hall outside the kitchen as if I couldn't hear her.

"Yes, mom!" I yelled back, coming around the island.

"Well, no need to yell Katie," she smirked and came fully into the kitchen.

I rolled my eyes, leaning my forearms on top of the island and asked, "How's everybody doing out there?"

"It's our first year without Jasper, so the guys have been having a hard time," she smiled weakly, then added, "But Violet brought her grandson to help and he's quite the dancer."

Hmm, I didn't know they had a grandson. My teenage girl intuition kicked in and questions started popping into my head. How old is he? Is he a better dancer than me? Is he cute? Is he tall?

"Katie?" She brought be out of my thoughts by snapping and I blinked.

"Sorry, what?" I cleared my throat and focused on her again.

"I said you need to get ready to dance after lunch. We need all the help we can get and maybe you can partner with Violets grandson," her eyebrows did a little dance as she walked over to the fridge.

"Yeah, I'll help out," I watched her as she pulled my aunt Pam's famous holiday pudding out of the fridge and set it on the island, "When can I eat that?" I pointed to the large tray of creamy pudding.

"Eh eh eh, not yet missy," she slid the tray over a bit, "This is for after lunch. Please set the table. I have to get back to practice, thank you," she kissed my forehead and glided out of the room before I could protest.

"But, Mom!" I hated setting the table. It was the most boring job you could get.

After moving the tray of pudding dishes to the counter over looking the dining hall, I washed my hands and opened the silverware drawers. Let's get this over with.