Dancing Shoes

by Lynne Gentry

  Just as Leona’s heart was about to beat out of her chest, Kendra gave the nervous couple a reassuring pat then sprinted over to the boom box and stopped the music.

  The lithe instructor picked up a microphone and waltzed to the center of the now quiet room. “Welcome to the first night of the rest of your life.” The young woman nearly glowed at the sight of her growing business. “I believe it’s never too late to learn to dance.” Uncomfortable jitters kept everyone’s eyes focused on their instructor. Only two couples out of the ten were younger than Leona and Roy. “I truly believe anyone can learn to dance.”

  Leona hoped Kendra’s pep talk applied to repressed ex-pastor’s wives. She’d long admired the older actors who appeared on Dancing with the Stars. Especially those who’d never had a dance lesson. They had to know they couldn’t compete against the younger, more athletic contestants. And yet, in spite of their obvious disadvantage, they tapped their courage, donned their sparkly outfits, and threw caution to the wind.

  Maybe love the second time around was like being on Dancing with the Stars later in life. Leona cut a sideways glance at Roy. He was a good man. Filled with a holy zeal to serve the Lord. Life with an adventure seeker would never be dull. Leona let her hand drift Roy’s direction. He twined his fingers through hers. A warm tingle raced up her arm.

  “Let’s start by talking about your shoes,” Kendra said. “I hope y’all took to heart the information I emailed when you signed up.”

  Leona did what everyone else did and glanced at her feet. Her beautiful satin pumps looked exactly like the picture attached to Kendra’s email. She’d even ordered the same nude color so her shoes would go with anything. Relieved she’d done something right tonight, Leona straightened her shoulders and stood a little taller.

  “Dance shoes are strange and marvelous things,” Kendra continued. “They’re like magic. Their grip can hold you in place when you need to be steadied. Or the specifically designed sole can slide when you need to move. A proper shoe can greatly enhance your safety, comfort, and enjoyment as you maneuver the boards.” She held up an old dance shoe. “Your shoes are like a good marriage. They should feel firm on your feet, but not so tight as to rub a blister.”

  Suddenly Roy’s grip felt as if it had climbed Leona’s arm and wrapped around her throat. Unable to breathe, Leona tried unsuccessfully to discreetly wiggle her fingers free. Glass-shard tingles raced from her oxygen-deprived head to her throbbing feet.

  Her feet? Oh no!

  She’d been so concerned about David and Maxine and Roy and Saul she hadn’t noticed until this very minute that her toes were screaming in protest. From the corner of her eye, she could see Saul. Her smug ex-lawyer seemed as comfortable in his shiny shoes as he was with Ruthie’s arm looped through his. Leona scooted closer to Roy, which only made her breathing more difficult.

  The room began to spin. Leona was on the verge of asking Roy to take her home when Kendra said, “To keep the soles of your dance shoes in pristine condition, they must never be worn outside the studio.”

  Leona glanced at her shoes again. Gravel dents pocked the satin on the toe box. No telling how much damage picking her way across the parking lot had done to her soles. She’d been so swept up by Roy’s charms, she’d failed to use her head. She hated making mistakes, especially stupid ones.

  “We’re going to start with the box step.” Kendra clapped her hands twice to signal she was now getting down to business. “Gentlemen, take your partner’s hand and put her on your right side.”

  Roy quickly complied, placing himself squarely between Leona and Saul. Too late to leave now. “Breathe through your nose, LeLe.”

  She managed a pained nod.

  “Now, my partner and I are going to turn our backs on y’all.” Kendra waved to a lanky fellow lurking in the shadows and the young man did a light-foot sprint to her side.

  “That’s Angus,” Leona whispered to Roy.

  “The boy from the diner?” Roy asked.

  Leona clasped her tightening chest. “Can this night get any stranger?”

  “Breathe, LeLe,” Roy urged again.

  Once everyone had scurried into position, Kendra laid the microphone on an empty chair, took Angus by the hand, and began shouting her instructions. “Feet together.” Kendra’s heels came together and Leona did her best to force her feet to comply. “Step forward with the left foot. Slide to the right. When your feet come together, your weight must shift to your left foot.” She and Angus slid effortlessly across the floor. No one moved. “Then repeat,” Kendra said, without turning around to count the casualties. She and Angus slid in unison again, their movements creating the outline of a perfect box on the floor.

  Roy looked at Leona. “Ready to give ’er a go, LeLe?”

  She nodded. The step forward went well enough, but during the slide, Roy’s big red and black shoes caught her heel. She stumbled, crashing into Roy. They ended up in a tangled mess that nearly put them on their butts. Leona gave the room a quick survey. Sadly, she and Roy were the only casualties. Everyone else had mastered the simple step beautifully...including Saul and Ruthie.

  Kendra and Angus carried on as if everyone was a natural. “Now, let’s go backwards,” Kendra said. “Right foot back. Slide to the left. Feet together.”

  “Now let’s take our dance position.” Kendra and her partner turned and faced each other. “Positions, everyone.” She waited until everyone had copied their stance.

  Leona and Roy awkwardly turned and faced each other. For the first time, Leona realized the top of her head didn’t clear Roy’s shoulder...even in two-inch heels.

  Kendra held her right hand high. “The man’s left hand takes the lady’s right.” Angus’s hand met Kendra’s mid-air. “To complete the hold, the man’s right hand comes around, slides beneath the woman’s left arm, and comes to rest on the woman’s left shoulder blade like so.” Kendra waited until Angus held her properly then she turned her head and smiled out at her class as if they were her children. “Positions, everyone.”

  Roy and Leona raised their hands and lowered them like they were confused traffic cops. After several unsuccessful attempts and near-misses, they finally managed to connect. Now that they were holding hands, Leona put her hand on Roy’s shoulder. Roy’s other hand was a grappling hook somewhere between her waist and bra line. They were coupled, but their stance fell woefully short of mimicking the perfect scene before them.

  Roy, however, was convinced they’d finally pulled it off. “Let’s go, LeLe.” He yanked her close. Her face smushed against the chest hairs protruding from the top buttons he’d left undone.

  “Roy!” Leona sputtered, tossing her head back for a snatch of air.

  “Not so tight, Roy.” Kendra said, coming to Leona’s rescue.

  “Oh.” His arms dropped. “Sorry, LeLe.”

  Leona backed up, her nose still twitching from the hairy irritation. From the corner of her eye, she could see that Saul and Ruthie had matched up perfectly. Leona lifted her chin and turned her attention squarely back on Roy. “Don’t worry, Roy. It’s a lot harder than it looks on Dancing with the Stars.”

  “What?” he asked, obviously behind on American T.V.

  “Never mind.” Leona stepped forward and guided his right hand to her left shoulder blade.

  “The key is to mirror your partner.” Kendra and Angus proceeded to demonstrate the ease by which a simple box step could be used to create all sorts of dances.

  Angus stepped forward. Kendra stepped back. Stepping and sliding, the well-matched pair glided across the floor. “What makes this simple step a waltz is the lowering and rising of the dancers’ bodies,” Kendra shouted as she and Angus waltzed around like they were auditioning for a dance show. Once they were finished showing off, they whirled to a stop and Kendra said, “Okay, y’all. See how easy it is? Let me see you give it a try.”

  Leona felt every muscle in her body tense.

  Roy leaned forward and said, “Relax, LeLe.
We’ve got this.”

  But they didn’t. They stopped and started and stopped and started. Dancing was never this hard with J.D. and they’d never had a single lesson. Maybe it was her partner? No. She refused to let her mind go there. “Ouch.”

  “Sorry, LeLe,” Roy apologized for the tenth time. “Guess J.D. wasn’t the only one with two left feet.”

  She’d always admired those people who’d never danced before who were willing to make a fool of themselves and try. Not that she wanted to be anyone’s fool. In fact, that was the last thing she ever wanted to be. But if she was to ever be free of her need to please everyone, dancing seemed like a good first step.

  Maybe she should have tried knitting.

  While everyone else progressed on to the next step, Kendra assigned Angus to help her and Roy. Over and over, Angus patiently walked them through the steps until finally, Leona had to ask for a break. “I need to catch my breath,” she told Roy then darted for the restroom.

  She locked the door to the single commode and ripped off her shoe. An ugly blister bulged from the first joint of her little toe. She dug through her purse searching for the miniature first aid kit she kept on hand. It took a few minutes to wiggle out of her pantyhose. She flipped the toilet seat lid and plopped down. After she applied the Band- Aid, she shimmied into her pantyhose. Cramming her swollen foot into the ill-fitting shoe felt like she was one of Cinderella’s ugly stepsisters.

  What was she trying to prove? She wasn’t twenty-one and carefree. She was a fifty-two-year-old widow who’d been happily married for nearly thirty years. What made her think a few turns around the dance floor would make her feel alive again?

  She closed her purse and went to the sink to wash her hands. She stared into the mirror. Tears threatened to ruin the eyeliner Roxie insisted she wear.

  Roy joked like J.D.

  Roy was tall like J.D.

  Roy even sort of kissed like J.D., assertive and expectant.

  But Roy McGee was not J.D. She missed her husband.

  A knock at the door jarred the ugly truth loose. J.D. was gone and hiding in a gas station bathroom wasn’t going to bring him back.

  “Just a minute.” Leona ripped a wad of tissue from the roll and dabbed at the streaks beneath her eyes. She’d paid good money for these lessons and she wasn’t going to quit until she’d given learning to dance her best shot. She threw the tissue in the trash and unlocked the door.

  When she returned to the lobby, the music in the ballroom had been turned off. Couples had migrated to the lobby where they were pulling water bottles and Gatorade from their backpacks, along with candy bars and apples. Laughter filled the space that used to double as a small grocery store. Roy stood behind the old check-out counter telling fascinating tales of lion attacks, elephants trampling village gardens, and men beating crocs away so he could baptize people in the muddy rivers.

  Roy was loud, funny, and irresistible. It was almost as if J.D. had been reincarnated.

  Saul handed her a bottle of water. “He’s something, isn’t he?”

  “Yes.” Exactly what she didn’t know, but definitely something. She unscrewed her drink lid and took a long, deep gulp. She wiped the dribble on her chin, expecting Saul to take the hint that she was in no mood to talk to him and move on. But he stood there. Saying nothing. Waiting patiently on her to finish. She swallowed and said, “Enjoying the class?”

  “I am,” Saul admitted, enthusiastically. “Ruthie’s quite light on her feet.”

  “Must run in the Crouch DNA. Angus is pretty impressive as well.”

  “That kid is full of surprises, isn’t he?”

  Leona couldn’t help but turn. She was pleased to see the same thaw toward Angus in Saul’s expression that she’d heard in his voice. “I wonder where the boy learned to dance?”

  “Ruthie’s been teaching him.” Saul sipped his water. “They push the tables back after they close the diner. Then they pop a few quarters into the jukebox and dance until Ruthie’s feet give out.”

  She’d noticed the lights on in the diner a few nights ago when she’d stayed late at the paper, but it never occurred to her to peek in the windows. “Ruthie will miss him when he goes off to school.”

  “Not sure he’s going.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Angus didn’t get his scholarship.”

  A shocked gasp escaped Leona’s throat. “I didn’t know.” Before she could tell Saul she wasn’t about to let Angus or his talents waste away in Mt. Hope, Kendra called the class back to order.

  “This time,” Kendra said as she danced to the music system, “I want each of you to choose a new partner.” The music cued up and excitement throbbed through the class.

  Ruthie looped her arm through Roy’s. “I’ll take on this tall drink of water.” She pulled Roy to the ballroom.

  Everyone paired up in a flurry, leaving Leona and Saul alone in the deserted lobby. Music drifted in from the ballroom, but the smooth notes did not fill the uncomfortable silence.

  “I believe I owe you a dance.” Saul offered his hand.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I was rude when you invited me to dance at your son’s wedding reception.”

  She stared at his open palm. “Well, if we’re making amends, I owe you an apology.”

  “For?”

  “The things I said,” she admitted.

  “Before or after you fired me.”

  “Both.” She threw her empty water bottle in the trash. “I know you’re far too honorable to bilk a widow.”

  He lowered his hand. “The thought of paying my fee isn’t what made you mad.” Why did this man have to make everything so difficult?

  “You were right.” There she said it, but the admission stuck in her throat like day-old grits. “I need to let my children work out their own lives.” She blinked back tears.

  “Easier said than done.” An unfamiliar tone, one she could only interpret as kindness, had softened his voice.

  She nodded, glancing furtively through the open doors leading to the ballroom. Roy was doing just fine with Ruthie as his partner. They were gliding about the polished floors and laughing like dancing was every bit as easy as the professionals made it seem.

  Maybe she was the problem. The thought struck such a hard blow, she felt her knees give.

  Saul offered his left hand. “Dance with me.”

  Her gaze drifted back to Roy. “Obviously, I’m not very good.”

  “I am.”

  Her gaze cut back to the self-assured man before her. “And humble.”

  His eyes locked hers with an intensity she couldn’t have broken if she wanted to. “Humility is overrated.” His fingers motioned her forward.

  She put her hand in his. The warm tingly feeling she’d experienced with Roy did not race up her arm. Saul’s calloused squeeze instantly dispersed her disappointment. His touch, a strong, steady comfort, enveloped her. She felt equally compelled to return the comfort.

  In an instant, he had her in his arms. “Lean into me and let me help guide you.”

  Eye to eye, an energy she could not resist held her captive. Saul stepped forward with his left foot. Her right foot instinctively stepped backward. “That’s the ticket,” he said firmly. “Now, slide. And step.”

  “Do you smell bananas?” tumbled from her quivering lips after they completed their first box step without a single mishap.

  A true, full-on pleased smile lifted Saul’s mustache and set off a sparkle in his sky blue eyes. “Use the peels to oil my shoes.”

  “Really?”

  “Old military trick.” He applied pressure to her shoulder and moved her snugly against his solid chest. Her chin hovered just above his shoulder. He placed his cheek against hers and whispered, “Dance, Leona.”

  With her name warm against her neck, and the brush of his mustache on her face, she relaxed in his arms. Before she knew what happened, she and Saul were whirling around the lobby in a cloud of n
avy chiffon.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Leona’s van coughed to a stop in the parking slot between the Koffee Kup and the Mt. Hope Messenger. With last night’s blister throbbing, she was exceptionally grateful Ruthie had granted her parking privileges so close to the diner and work. A familiar sports coat flashed into Leona’s peripheral view. She looked to find Angus knocking on her window.

  Seeing her dead husband’s clothes brought to life twisted the feelings she’d spent the night sorting into a painful knot. Angus needed J.D.’s suits. She couldn’t let every sighting of the ratty sports coat send her into a tailspin. What if her pain didn’t have a thing to do with J.D.’s castoff wardrobe? Roxie was wrong when she said the turmoil in Leona’s belly stemmed from her unrelenting guilt for being alive. The pain stemmed from falling in love with the wrong man.

  Love? Where had that come from? Women her age didn’t fall in love after one dance class. She was just missing J.D., that’s all.

  “Morning, Miss Leona,” Angus waved, obviously not the least bit worn out from his night of dance instructing. “I’ve got the coffee on whenever you’re ready to come in.”

  She nodded then snatched her keys from the ignition. She limped into the diner as gracefully as the blister on her foot would allow. Her eyes shot past Angus waiting at the door with a welcoming smile and a menu.

  Saul’s booth was empty. She looked at her watch. Six-thirty-two. Where was he? Had last night interrupted his sleep as it had hers? She lowered her arm. What was it to her how Saul Levy interpreted their dance? They’d both danced with several different people after that. With any luck, he’d probably already forgotten about all the times she stepped on his feet.

  “Booth or table, Miss Leona?” Angus asked.

  “Uh, a table by the window please, Angus. Oh, and I’m waiting on David so I’ll need a couple of coffees and two ice waters when you get a minute.” She limped toward an empty table.

  “You raised more on the dance floor last night than that blister you’re nursing, Miss Leona.”