by Tonya Plank
I usually soaked it all up. As did Xenia. But this year, I had Rory. This was all new to her, and she had to be tired from getting no sleep during the whole trip. I needed to check us in and get her up to the hotel room.
“Ah, wait, wait, please,” I heard the desk attendant calling out, apparently unhappy about people taking the hotel’s pamphlets.
“Okay, just a few more. Just a few…” I signed as fast as I could, looking at Rory every so often to make sure she was still with me, not about to kill me. She looked around wide-eyed, taking it all in. Okay, she wasn’t about to fall over with exhaustion yet.
About two hours later, we were finally checked in and on our way to our third floor room.
“I’m really sorry. I hope that wasn’t too much,” I said, pushing the lift button.
“Not at all. That was fun.” She yawned, her words an amusing contrast to her tone. The lack of sleep was starting to get to her.
But she was awake enough to find the elevators amusing. They were basically wooden boxes that went up and down in an open shaft, and you had to jump on and off as they slowly rose and descended in the open wall.
“I love how the English word for them is ‘lift’ because that’s literally what they are.” She laughed.
I was going to book us at a fancier hotel farther away, but now I was glad I’d opted for the local one. Not only could we easily get to the Winter Gardens without having to rely on the sometimes unreliable cabs, but she was enthralled with these small hotel things.
***
I emerged from the shower, expecting to find Rory asleep. But she was wide awake, having gotten a second wind apparently from the charm of the lift, along with our view of a cobblestoned side street bearing a ubiquitous fish and chips and a couple of other hotels. This street, like the others in the area, was crowded with dancers. I hoped she’d settle down soon and could get some rest.
“My turn,” she said, jumping up and taking a pair of red lacy underwear and a silky bra into the bathroom. I raised my eyebrows, but then thought better of saying or doing anything. We’d agreed to focus completely on dancing, and refrain from any sexual escapades until after Wednesday’s competition. It was going to be killer hard, but we were on the same wavelength, both of us afraid nerves would just ruin it, make us bitter and all the more anxious. It gave us all the more reason to be single-minded until Wednesday, and look forward to Wednesday night.
She took a nice, long shower while I dressed and blew dry my hair, leaving it wavy and wild. It was the last day I could do so, and sometimes people didn’t recognize me without it being gelled back. If we were going out to dinner, it might give us some privacy, I thought.
She was still in the shower when Valentin called, asking me to meet him at the bar downstairs. I figured I’d let Rory take her time. She needed that long, hot shower. I left her a text and walked downstairs. We found a secluded area in the back so we could catch up in private. It was so good to see him. He was a top competitor in standard ballroom, having placed second last year. He was hoping to win this year since the top competitors had retired and there were new judges. We’d kind of come up together. He was on the rise at the same time as Micaela and I but since we concentrated in different dances, we weren’t competitive with each other. I always liked seeing him and of course I didn’t run into him at the Latin-only comps. So we didn’t see each other often enough. But when we did, it was like we were the best of friends.
Soon several other friends from that time in New York showed up, including Max the horndog, who was now a top amateur competitor in Latin, and Sergei, who’d retired and was now coaching. Of course they all wanted to know what had happened with Xenia, and how things were going with Rory. I had to tell the story anew with each new friend who arrived. We needed to get a Facebook group or something to keep in touch. I got so involved in catching up that I soon realized it had been a while and I hadn’t heard from Rory. I checked my phone. No message. I texted her again. No response.
Just when I was about to go up and check on her, there she was, entering the bar. I practically fell off my stool, she looked so damn gorgeous. She’d really done herself up. She wore a short miniskirt, a form-fitting red sweater, and very hot over-the-knee black boots. She didn’t see me.
“Rory, Rory!” I called out.
“Whoa,” Max said.
“Woot,” echoed Val and Sergei at once.
“Okay calm down, guys,” I said to them in Russian.
I raised my arm and held my hand out to her. She smiled and indicated she’d make her way over. Wow, it had become pretty crowded in here. It might take her some time to get through the crowd. Sergei was talking about changes in the judging rules and I turned toward him, wanting to hear what he had to say since it very much affected us too. I kept my hand up, but soon realized it had been a while since I’d made eye contact with her. I looked around, asking him to hold off on continuing until I found her. I didn’t see her. But right then, she grabbed my still-raised hand, bumping into two people who I now realized were blocking her. It had gotten insanely crowded. Insanely crowded right around us, that is.
“Sorry,” she said to them with a nervous laugh as they were forced to part and allow her through.
“Thank you,” I said to them. It was a man and woman, both blond and fair-skinned, both Danish-team-looking, though I didn’t recognize them. They seemed confused, but calmed down and smiled when they realized she was with me.
“Mmmm, you look delicious,” I whispered to Rory, eyeing her up and down, licking my lips.
She didn’t laugh. “I didn’t know where to look for you. I’m glad I found you.”
“I left you a text. I came down to catch up with some old friends. I wanted you to take as long in the hot shower as you needed,” I said, pulling her closer to me, unable to do anything other than ignore everyone else around me.
She smiled. “Well, I’m rarin’ to go. I thought we could go out and explore the town. And believe it or not, I’m hungry again. It’s like now that I’m eating regularly again, I can’t stop.”
“It’s been a while since breakfast on the plane,” I said. “I’m very glad your appetite’s back.” I kissed her right on the lips, everyone watching. I took out some English bills and put them on the bar, then turned toward Sergei and told him I wanted to hear the whole story but had to go eat with my girlfriend. I said it in Russian, so Rory didn’t understand, but of course they all raised their eyes at my use of the term “girlfriend.” I excused myself, patted Valentin on the shoulder and told him we’d talk again very soon.
“Yes, of course,” he said.
“Have fun, kids,” Max said in English, raising his eyebrows at Rory.
“You look so good,” I said, taking her hand in mine and walking to the exit. “I’m just afraid you might get a little cold. The weather here is not like L.A.”
“I’ll be fine,” she asserted.
But once we were outside, she immediately huddled against me.
“You sure you don’t want to change?”
She shook her head adamantly. Something was odd in her demeanor, her attitude. Like she needed to look hot even if it meant freezing.
“We’ll go to the Italian bistro. It’s the best place here and it’s just around the corner.” I pulled her to me and wrapped her in my arms as much as I could while walking.
We became the center of attention in the completely packed restaurant the second we walked in. So many old, familiar faces.
A woman holding menus approached us. “I see Leo, a guy I know from London,” I said to Rory. “I’m going to go say hi. Get us a table in the back, in a quiet area.” I gave her shoulder a squeeze and her cheek a gentle peck.
“Will try,” she said.
I hadn’t seen Leo in a few years. Though I’d known him from London, he was Russian as well. I’d heard he’d had an injury and I wondered if he was back to competing.
“Hey, man,” I said as he rose. We hugged, man-patted each other
on the back. “How are you? How’s the leg?”
He began telling me about his injury, a torn calf muscle that sounded horrible. No wonder he was out for so long. Those were a bitch to heal.
“Sit down,” he said, pulling out a chair. We spoke in Russian.
“I have my girlfriend and partner with me,” I said.
“There’s room for her,” said Gleb, another dancer I knew not from Russia but from England as well, from what was beginning to seem like a past life now that I had Rory.
“Hey!” I said, hand-slapping him in greeting.
Gleb pulled out a chair from across the table. “Put this one over there,” he directed me.
“Thanks, man. But we kind of wanted a little privacy. It’s her first night here. Her first night abroad—”
“Look around you!” He laughed. “Where else you going to sit?”
Holy crap. There was now a huge line at the door, wrapping all the way around the block.
“Rory! Rory!” I called out, looking for her. I couldn’t see her anywhere. I put my hand in the air again and waved madly, feeling like I was at a rock concert. Finally, I caught her eye. I waved her over, relieved. “Come on!”
She made her way through the bodies blocking us. I couldn’t see her through them, but I sensed when she was near and stuck my arm straight through the bodies to part them this time. I stood, reached out, and grasped her hand, interlacing her fingers with mine, guiding her the rest of the way toward me.
She laughed when she got inside the crowd and eyed the small wooden chair reserved for her. I knew it wasn’t exactly what either of us had in mind. I should have known this restaurant would be packed. Truth was, I’d never cared before. I hadn’t wanted to spend any intimate, romantic time with Xenia in a while now, and she was the person who’d accompanied me here for the past several years. I’d forgotten how crazy it got.
I laughed with Rory and shrugged my shoulders. “Sorry, honey,” I mouthed. “It appears that’s all there is.” I caressed her arm and gently guided her down onto the hard wood seat. I introduced her in Russian as my girlfriend and partner to everyone.
“Yes, very, very good to meet you,” Gleb said in English but with his very thick Russian accent.
Most Russians had thick accents when they spoke English. I was quite proud of myself for standing out from the masses. He extended his hand to her. She took it and told him it was wonderful to meet him too.
She nodded and smiled at the others as well. I told her about Leo’s injury, but until everyone around the table laughed at me, I hadn’t realized I was talking to her in Russian. She gamely laughed with them and held up her hand.
“That’s totally okay. You catch up with your friends. We have more than enough time together.” She smiled graciously. I took both of her hands in mine and pressed them to my lips.
“Thank you so much,” I said.
I returned to Leo, wanting to hear more about his recovery. Poor guy had to survive not only multiple surgeries but the anger and bitterness of his coach, which reminded me how horrible Russians could be to each other. If you got hurt as a dancer, it was your fault. You had to make amends to them for any time you lost, which hopefully was no time at all. You danced through the pain or you were a loser, a weakling. It all made me sick, made me so happy I was gone from there. That I’d never go back. I was glad Rory couldn’t understand anything. There were certain things about my homeland I just didn’t want her to know.
I was listening so intently, I hadn’t realized we’d been sitting there a while and the waitress hadn’t come. Until Rory stood.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m actually getting really hungry,” she said, when I looked up at her.
“Yes, we need to order—”
I began to get up, but she gently pushed my arm back down.
“No, no,” she said. “You stay and chat and I’ll just go to the bar to order. It looks like that’s what you have to do for food around here right now. You want me to get you anything?”
“Ohhh,” I said in contemplation. “You know, just whatever looks good. I’m not really that hungry. I’ll trust you, honey.”
“Will do.” She smiled and was off.
I returned my attention to Leo and his story of woe. Soon, we were joined by Valentin, Max and Sergei, who all sympathized with Leo and agreed the coaching system sucked badly. Again, I got so involved in catching up, I didn’t notice the passage of time. Everyone had so much going on, so much that had happened since I last saw them. I felt horrible for being so out of touch, so into my own drama, fighting with Xenia, looking in vain for Tatiana. And the reminder of Tanya was what made me realize Rory had been gone for some time.
I got up and looked at the bar. I couldn’t see her anywhere. It was actually starting to clear out a bit. I excused myself and walked to the bar. I looked everywhere. She was nowhere. I went to the ladies restroom and waited outside. I checked my phone. No text. I texted, asking her where she was. I waited several minutes, but there was no answer. I walked outside, looked around. Where the hell was she? I went back in, asked the guys if they’d seen her. They all shook their heads. I then realized Rory had no English money. I’d assured her I’d take care of all the money. I should have given her some. I didn’t foresee we’d get separated. What the hell was wrong with me? I should have given her money to be on the safe side. I told the guys I had to go search for her and we’d talk more later.
“Good luck,” Sergei called out.
“Wait, I’ll go with you,” Valentin said.
Thinking she’d gone to change money, we walked to the closest exchange kiosk. But she wasn’t there. Thinking maybe the wait at the Italian place was just too long and she decided to run into another place, we stopped in at the other restaurants in the area, looking around, asking around. Like I had with Tatiana. I felt a hole in my core. Where was she? Why hadn’t I paid more attention in the restaurant? Not that she couldn’t take care of herself. And this was England, and not a crime-ridden area. But neither was our L.A. neighborhood. If anything ever happened to her again, it would destroy me. I’d never forgive myself.
I texted her again. Where are you? No response. I was thankful for Val’s help, but I was getting more worried by the minute, and I kind of wanted to be alone with my frustration and self-directed anger. But I said nothing, and just walked around some more with him.
“We’ll find her,” he said, reading my emotions.
Finally, thank God, my phone beeped. I had a message. It was from her. She went to the fish and chips place because, as I’d suspected, at the Italian place they said it would take too long. She said she didn’t want to disturb me with my friends and that I didn’t seem that hungry anyway.
I practically sprinted to the fish and chips place, Valentin running along at my side. But she wasn’t there. Is she at another one? Did she get lost? Even though I now knew she was okay, I just wanted her back in my arms.
“Let’s just go back to the hotel,” I said to him. He checked the bar while I went to the lobby. There was still a line at the front desk, though not nearly as long as earlier today. I excused myself and walked past the crowd to the check-in clerk. Good thing about being a celebrity was that everyone forgave you. I asked the clerk where there was another fish and chips place besides the one around the corner. But he said that one was the only one in the immediate area. The next closest was about half a kilometer beyond the Winter Garden. She wouldn’t have gotten that lost, certainly.
My worry grew. Then I realized there might be a time lag. She hadn’t received my text earlier that I’d gone down to the hotel bar. I texted her again.
Where r u? I just got this. There might be time delay. Looking 4 u everywhere. Lost track of time. I’m so sorry. Worried.
She didn’t respond right away. Maybe by now she was actually back in the room. I went to the bar to tell Val I was going upstairs. Max had joined him.
“Oh man, you don’t look good,” Max said, grasping my arm.
I knew he meant well, but I was annoyed.
“I don’t know where she is. This is a foreign country to her and we had an…incident earlier—”
“What?” Val said. “Incident?”
Shit, I so didn’t want to go there. He looked truly concerned.
“No, it was nothing. It was in L.A. But it freaked… I just have to find her.”
“Okay, let’s go,” Val said.
Max put his beer mug down. “I will help. Should we split up and text each other if we find her?”
“Good idea,” I said. “But first let me just check the room. I think our texts are getting lost or there’s some kind of time lag or something. She might already be up there.”
We made our way up.
“Sasha,” she nearly screamed as I unlocked the door.
“You are here,” I said, sighing deeply.
“I just texted you. I didn’t know there was a lap—”
She was in bed. Her face was covered in sweat and she looked sickly pale.
“Rory, you are white as ghost,” I said.
“I don’t feel well. I got sick on greasy fish and chips. I need privacy. I need to get well before…everything starts.” She didn’t want to say the word competition. “Please!” she muttered, nearly in tears. “I know you haven’t seen your friends in a while but…I need you.” Her eyes flickered to my right and left before her tears really came on. I’d momentarily forgotten Val and Max were behind me.
“Of course, of course, sweetheart.” I nodded and backed up, closing the door.
I started to thank them, but they got it.
“Just happy she’s okay. See you tomorrow, man,” Val said.
I shook their hands and returned to Rory.
“I’m sorry, Sasha. I feel like an ass in front of your friends. I just really don’t want to be sick for the competition. It’s too import—”