Fixing His Broken Ballerina: Volume 1

by Sheila Holmes

  “Looks like we have matching limps, huh? But, you’re looking well.”

  Conyer couldn’t help but smile. She was right. His leg kicked in now and then since their hospital stays. But the cool weather seemed to aggravate his leg, and today was beyond being cool. It was downright cold.

  “Thanks. Yes, I’m doing fine. You?” Giselle searched his face to see if his inquiry was sincere. She saw that his face was truly guileless, so she answered.

  “Doing better each day. Thank you for asking.”

  Conyer wished he could think of something else to say to delay her departure, but everything about this encounter felt awkward, so nothing more was spoken between them. So, with a smile very pointedly at Conyer, Giselle walked off.

  As she escaped the dining room that housed the man who had irreparably changed her life for what seemed the worse, she realized that she really was ok with Conyer. She didn’t have the strength to fight against him anymore. Nor, she also realized, did she want to. It was too exhausting, and it didn’t change anything.

  More importantly, Giselle had been reading the Bible Conyer had given her at the hospital. For the last few days, the Lord was patiently teaching her that unless she forgave others, He couldn’t forgive her. And heaven knew, there was so much for which she had to be forgiven. All the pent up anger, the ill will she bore toward Conyer for his part is injuring her and destroying her dance career dream, her mean spirit against Connie for leaving without telling her where he was going, but still trying to hold on to her through his greeting cards. It was just all too much. She couldn’t do it any longer.

  And so it was, that on that very day, right there in the foyer of Giordino’s, Giselle silently asked the Lord to forgive her for all her recent rejection of His Mercy and Grace. No one could tell by looking at her that afternoon, but Giselle was changed. She had decided to enter into fellowship again with her Lord.

  *****

  As Conyer and his entourage left the dining room of Giordino’s, having thoroughly enjoyed the Pasta Arabiatta that Giselle had suggested, he told the men he would meet them at the property, where they’d walk through and he’d advise them of his vision for the business and get their input on how to proceed. He had told them sketchily what he was thinking, but until they walked through the structure together, they wouldn’t be able to advise him properly.

  So it was that the property developer, city business manager, and a fellow entrepreneur left before Conyer. He wanted to thank Giselle for the menu suggestion and see if maybe he could begin to forge a friendship with the lovely young woman.

  Unfortunately, that was not going to happen today.

  Rather than Giselle, there was another young woman welcoming customers. When Conyer approached her to ask if Giselle was still there, the girl told him that while she was indeed still there, it would be a while before she’d be returning to her post after that kind of an accident.

  When Conyer’s face registered a semi-panic, the young girl reassured him that Giselle was ok. The semi-panic was replaced by a what-then? look.

  “Giselle was here in the foyer, when a woman came this way from that dining room,” the girl explained, while pointing to the dining room at the opposite side of the foyer. “Giselle said the woman was bent over and looked either sick or hurt. When Giselle walked up to her to see if she could help her, the woman deposited her entire meal right down the front of Giselle’s clothes. They both rushed to the restrooms. They’re still in there. When I just went in to see how things were going, the girl was still sick, and Giselle had just changed into a chef’s coat. She’s going to go home to change her clothes, then she’ll come back.”

  When Conyer made no comment, but just stood there looking at her, the girl continued.

  “It was just kind of a good news - back news thing.”

  Conyer still stood silent and transfixed, but now confused, as well.

  When he didn’t ask what the good or the bad news was, she decided to just get on with it.

  “The good news is that the woman just found out she and her husband are expecting their first child. They were here celebrating. The bad news is what Giselle is wearing all over her clothes right now.”

  Conyer said nothing, but at least the semi-panicked and the what-then? looks were gone.

  “Would you like me to give her a message?” the girl asked Conyer.

  “Um… no. I guess not. Well… just tell her Conyer said thanks for the menu recommendation.”

  The girl nodded her head, but immediately was looking behind and beyond Conyer to welcome a party of four to Giordino’s.

  As Conyer left the restaurant, his thoughts were aimed directly at God.

  You’re not giving me any break at all right now, are You? Ok, Lord, we’ll do it Your way.

  Chapter 20

  It had been two weeks since Giselle had seen and spoken to Conyer Whitefield in Giordino’s. She was still happy about her decision to return to fellowship with Jesus, but, if she had to admit it, there were moments when she still felt a little perturbed with Conyer. She knew she’d forgiven him, it was the “forgetting” part that was difficult. Every time her knee ached, or simply gave out on her while she was walking, or she drove by that new dance studio being finished on Main Street, she thought of him, and his part in having caused the sudden and irreversible demise of her dancing career. She longed for a return to that life. She loved to dance, and it would be a long time before she could completely resolve not having that dimension to her world ever again.

  It wasn’t that Giselle wanted to keep alive Conyer’s part in her end to dancing, so much as she still wished he would have taken responsibility for it and asked her forgiveness. If only he was the kind of man Connie Whittier was. She knew she could talk to him about what was going on in her life. There was no doubt he would listen, pray, and encourage her. That’s the kind of man he was. Thoughtful, giving, and unique. He was a special man, wasn’t he? But, then again… he was nowhere to be found.

  The only things that she possessed that reminded her that Connie was a real living, breathing person, and hadn’t just been a figment of her imagination were his gifts. In her evenings, she would pull out his ever-so-thoughtful and sacrificial remembrances of her from her closet. Cards in abundance, the store-bought ones complete with thoughtful sentiments and words of truth from God’s Word. Every time she looked at one of those, she’d run her finger lovingly over the “Connie W” scribbled at the bottom. Why was it that he signed everything with “Connie W” except the quickly typed messages on white computer paper?” The ballerina caricature nail wraps placed in one of his cards… and the most gorgeous ballerina slipper sculpture she’d ever seen in her whole life.

  At times Giselle wondered if she should share everything with Doris, or Awsty. Or both. But, they already looked at her most of the time with pity in their eyes, or maybe it was sympathy. Either way, she just couldn’t do it. She didn’t have the emotional stability enough to keep from endlessly crying again until she collapsed on the floor, never to rise again. So, usually, after looking over her “Connie-treasures,” she would put them back in the backpack in her closet, and close the door, already looking forward to the next time she could sit there on the floor and pour through them again. Always, after closing the closet door to hide her treasures, a long, slow sigh would escape her.

  Connie W, I guess you and I were never meant to be. I wish you’d given me a chance. I think I could have really loved you! And, I feel certain you could have loved me!

  After closing her closet door to lie down on her bed, Giselle reached for her knee. It was aching, probably because of the cold weather. Now that autumn was finishing up and winter was approaching, Giselle found that her knee was swelling up more often, leaving a constant reminder of her life then, and her life now.

  *****

  “Giselle, come on! The popcorn’s ready, and I made some taco appetizer bites. And, Awsty brought her famous Mocha Fudge Brownie Torte! What do you want to drin
k with this stuff?”

  Jumping up from her bed, Giselle was reminded that this was Girls’ Night, and they were supposed to watch a pay-per-view performance of her ballet troupe in Paris. Giselle had promised that she’d give them insights to the various dance feats that would be performed by the young woman who had taken her place in the dance company.

  When Doris and Awsty had first asked Giselle if she’d like to see the performance, or if it would be too painful, she had assured them that ballet would forever be her first love, and that she couldn’t think of anything she would rather do.

  “I’ll take a cup of hot cocoa if we have any of those packets left. I can’t get warm this evening. Oh, I’m bringing my blanket and pillow in too. You guys can share the blanket, if we can all pile up on the sofa.” Apparently Awsty had missed part of her message, yelled from the closed-door bedroom, because of her response.

  “I think the cocoa will warm you up without the jacket. Especially if you’re bringing a blanket,” Awsty yelled back to Giselle.

  “What?!” responded Giselle, with no small amount of confusion.

  “I said,” began Awsty, speaking loud enough that Giselle could hear from her bedroom, “the cocoa should warm you up enough, without the jacket, especially if you’re bringing a blanket.”

  “Jacket? What about a jacket?” asked Giselle, laughingly.

  “Didn’t you say that you wanted cocoa and a jacket?”

  “No,” answered Giselle, now laughing hardily. “I said I’d take cocoa if there are any packets left. Packets, not jackets.”

  “Oh,” said Awsty, now joining in Giselle’s laughter. “I thought that you were really cold, and you thought it would take cocoa, a blanket, and a coat to ever get warm enough.”

  “Well, if this cocoa doesn’t warm us all up some, I think I’ll be wearing my jacket, whether Giselle does or not!” said Doris, from the kitchen, as she placed all the food on trays and placed them on the pass-through counter.

  “Hey, guys, could you help with these trays? Just put them on the coffee table.

  “I’ll bring some plates and napkins,” said Doris, as she did just that.

  Two and a half hours later, all three of the girls were both emotionally fulfilled and emotionally depleted. Giselle had narrated almost the entire performance, gave specific information on certain dance moves, spoke of the strengths and weaknesses of each performer’s techniques, and cried through almost the whole thing. At some moments they were ooooing and aaaahing over aspects of the ballet’s story, and other times crying over the catch they could hear in various parts of Giselle’s narration.

  When the performance was over, all three girls said they weren’t ready to end their evening together. Girls’ Nights were few and far between, so they opted for just chatting with each other.

  It was after all innocuous subjects had been exhausted that Awsty opened a new topic.

  “Giselle, tonight seemed both a thrill and extremely difficult for you. How are you doing since your…” she began, as she pointed to the knee at which even now Giselle rubbed.

  Looking down at her hand as it circulated the knee joint area, she answered.

  “I think I’m doing a lot better than I was. It looks like time is bringing me…” Her face showed that she was trying to find the right word.

  “… resignation and a growing amount of peace.”

  Awsty assured Giselle that she and Doris continued to faithfully pray for her.

  “I know you do. And, I’m so thankful for both of you. You have been two of the greatest gifts to come from this awful mess. If the accident hadn’t happened, who knows if I’d ever have met you guys.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” responded Awsty. “I would hate to think we three wouldn’t have gotten together at some point.

  “In another vein… when I was driving here tonight, I drove past a huge dance studio that’s being re-done. The one on Main Street. Have you seen it?”

  “Yeah,” answered both Doris and Giselle in unison.

  “Giselle, have you thought about maybe teaching ballet? I saw in the window…”

  “Actually, I have,” interrupted Giselle. “I went into the dance studio over on Grant. I did that at the same time… actually before starting my search elsewhere. I talked with the owner. She was really nice, but said although she was looking for an instructor, she needed one for the beginners. And, since I couldn’t dance, there would be no one to demonstrate positions and combinations. She said if she’d needed a teacher for the advanced classes, she wouldn’t hesitate, because I could use one of the students in the classes to demonstrate moves. She told me that what’s in my head from all my training would help them, but it just wouldn’t work with beginning ballet students.”

  Doris began an intake of breath indicating she was going to speak, and Giselle knew she was going to suggest she go check at the new dance studio.

  “I’ve already been by the new one once. The doors were locked. I’ll probably go back by at some point when they’re further along. I plan to go back sometime. Just not sure when.”

  *****

  It was about time to head to bed for the night. Conyer had a headache, no surprise to him, from the hours and hours of paperwork he’d been pouring over.

  He’d already signed the contract, but unfortunately it didn’t end there. He didn’t know a thing about ballet, or dancing of any kind. He listened carefully to the counsel of his friends and business associates. He’d contacted an architect friend for assistance who had actually designed some dance studios. He knew he’d get wise counsel from him. Conyer had done everything in preparation that he could think of for this entrepreneurial pursuit.

  But, most of all, he’d prayed until he had a complete peace on this venture. He didn’t want to rely on his entrepreneurial enthusiasm alone. He wanted this to be the wisest business decision he’d ever made. And, he was grateful to his Aunt Tierney for placing him in a position where he could easily pull this off… financially speaking. He knew it would take time, and God would have to perform at least one major miracle for it to come to fruition.

  Placing his head into his hands, which were joined, elbows resting on his desk surface, Conyer lifted up his voice to The Only One who could complete this work.

  “Jesus, I’m so thankful that you let me come right into Your Throne Room, take all the time I need, and assure me that you will answer each and every petition I make.

  “I can’t truly see the extent of what must be done, who’ll need to be involved, and how in the world You’ll bring Giselle into this.

  “I’m so grateful that You’re allowing me the means to do this for this young woman, even though I have no intention of letting her know I’m behind it.

  “I can’t undo the day that took her beloved dancing from her, but somehow You keep laying on my heart that You have something else altogether in mind from anything I can imagine. And, I’m learning anew to trust You to do just that in every area of my life.

  “I want to thank You for lunch at Giordino’s. When I saw her there behind the registration stand, my heart almost stopped. But, I see even now that You planned it, and that You had already prepared her heart to talk to me.

  “I wish I could do even more for her. Someday maybe You’ll even allow us to be on the terms that will allow me to tell her what actually happened that day.

  “But, right now I want to thank You again for allowing me this opportunity to minister to her. I can’t figure out how You’re going to do it, but I’ll continue to trust You to do Your Miraculous Work in both our lives.

  “In Your Name I pray. Amen.”

  As he lifted his head, Conyer saw, even in the darkness of the night, there was a blanket of huge, soft snowflakes floating to the ground, as though each one was glad to be a part of the “snowy performance.”

  Chapter 21

  As Giselle and Doris approached the front doors of Open Door of Faith that Sunday morning, they greeted friends in abundance. It struck Gi
selle yet again the vast quantity of friends she had either newly made or re-acquainted with from her childhood in this church. It was good to be there at the Lord’s House.

  “Were we supposed to wait for Awsty and Mason? I can’t remember,” asked Doris, slowing her stride toward the doors.

  “No. Don’t you remember?” asked Giselle. “She said they were going to flip services today, because Mason and she were going to be team teaching in one of the Sunday school classes.”

  “Oh, that’s right. By the way, we need to save a seat for Jesse,” said Doris, speaking of her new boyfriend of six weeks.

  “Ok. I guess we better hurry up and get in there then. I’ve been so excited to see the worship team dance this morning. That one girl, Felicity, has the potential to become an amazing dancer. I love to watch her… But, frankly, I think their dancing prepares my heart for worship like almost nothing else can. I don’t want to miss any of it!” All this from Giselle, who was brimming with enthusiasm for the upcoming service.

  As Doris started in the door in front of Giselle, Giselle whispered, “I don’t know if it’s better to be in front where you can see every little detail of the dancing, or in the back, where you can see both the dancing and the reactions of praise in the congregation.”

  “The back, if that’s ok.”

  “Yeah, that’s great!”

  They hurried in and claimed their places in the second to last row on the right side of the twenty-five hundred seat worship center. Almost immediately upon sitting down, Jesse rushed in and sat beside Doris. He reached over immediately and took possession of Doris’ hand. She smiled at him, and they settled in for the worship service.

  The room was packed, both downstairs and the balcony above.

  As they sat, Giselle had the initial reaction of wishing she too had someone special in her life, but wouldn’t allow herself the luxury of getting sucked into that mentality. Instead, she bowed her head to pray, as had become her regular practice since re-dedicating her life to Christ, for whichever pastor taught that morning, the dance team, and each of those present in the service, that their hearts would be open to whatever the Holy Spirit chose to offer them that morning.

  *****

  When the music started, and the dance team entered through the back of the church aisles, Giselle first caught what looked like another dancer who was still seated… one row up from her, in the last seat adjoining the aisle opposite her own location, on which a third of the worship dance team entered. Giselle’s first thought was that this girl with her bright red hair, and possibly others sprinkled in the congregation, were going to arise and join the ones already dancing in the aisle toward the front of the auditorium. But, ten seconds or more after she had been passed by, the seated girl was still joining the troupes’ movements, although about one count behind theirs, and using only her arms and hands. Giselle got so caught up in watching her, that she missed almost the entire performance as it unfolded up on the stage.