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Page 23

by R. R. Banks


  But I didn't have that now. A few days before, Javi had left to be a part of a research program that could be the first step in him achieving everything that he had hoped for in his career, everything that he had been working toward. Just like I thought that I would be doing with the summer intensive. He'd be gone for a year. I didn't know how I was going to do this without him. I didn't know how I was going to cope with everything that I was going through without the smile on his face and the strength that he gave me just by sitting beside me. I didn't know how I was going to get through my pregnancy or delivering my baby. I felt like I couldn't do any of it on my own.

  I hadn't told him that. I would never have put that on him. I knew how important the program was to him and how excited he was at the opportunity. This is exactly what I had expected. I had always known that there were amazing things waiting for him and that the time that I had with him was borrowed. Every day that he was there with me was a gift and I was thankful for all of them. I never could have hurt him the way that it would if I told him how scared I was to not have him there with me. I could never have admitted to him that as much as I was looking forward to holding my child in my arms, I was terrified that I wasn't going to be able to do it. I didn't know if I had what it took to be a mother. I didn't know if I was equipped to be everything to the tiny, vulnerable life that would be relying completely on me for everything. I wanted Javi there to see me through, to reassure me.

  But I had to let him go.

  Just like I had to let Jude go.

  They had lives ahead of them and I had to let them live them.

  The music started and I took a breath before leaping out onto the stage. The blazing stage lights overhead immediately felt hot on my skin. I was used to the feeling and I found it reassuring. It wasn't just the heat that surrounded me. The lights are so bright that it made it almost impossible to see anything beyond the edge of the stage. I knew that there was an audience out in the black expanse beyond, but I couldn't see any of them. I didn't have to acknowledge that they were there. I was dancing for myself and that was what mattered.

  I followed each movement with every inch of my body. I could hear the voice of the choreographer in my head, blending with the music, pushing me to go a little further, a little harder. I knew that this was everything. I had to dance for the moment. I didn't know when the next might come.

  I began a series of turns across the center of the stage, making a sudden curve to go back on myself as if creating a spiral in the bright pool of light. It was something that I had done so many times before, but this time it felt different. Dizziness hit me and I felt like I couldn't stay on my feet any longer. I struggled to balance myself, to get control of my body again, but I couldn't. I stumbled and my shoe slipped. I felt myself go down hard on the stage and the audience gasped, making themselves more real in my head. I reached my arm up, then rolled dramatically to the side, hoping to cover my mistake. I stood and continued to do the choreography and soon realized that the audience had settled. They didn't realize what had happened was a mistake. It was enough that it fit with the dramatic theme of the piece and that I had been able to finish it.

  I waited for the curtains to close to limp from the stage. Tears were stinging in my eyes and I drew in long breaths to try to dissipate as much of the pain as I could. I sat down in the green room and evaluated the injury. I looked at my ankle and noticed that it hadn't begun to swell. There was a darker part of my ankle that had begun to discolor, but it looked like I had only suffered a bruise and possibly a twist. Nothing was broken. The company trainer rushed into the green room and came to the side of the chair. She knelt down and looked at my ankle, taking off my shoes so that she could manipulate my foot, turning it to see that I still had full range of motion.

  "I think it's okay," I said. "I think that I just twisted it."

  She nodded.

  "It looks like it," she said. "You're probably going to have a pretty nasty bruise. But it won't take long to recover. You did a pretty amazing job covering the fall. If I hadn't seen that same choreography a thousand times before, I would have thought that was a part of it."

  I tried to laugh.

  "I guess it's just lucky for me that I'm the one that got the dance about the dying bird."

  She smiled at me and took an ice pack from the bag that she carried on her shoulder.

  "And you complained that you thought that it was a bad theme," she said. "Now aren't you glad that you got to portray the bird?"

  "I would have been happier if I had been able to stay on my feet."

  She patted my leg.

  "Don't worry about it," she said. "It was just an exhibition performance. And like I said, you looked great. Nobody will notice. And I'm sure that you'll be right back into the studio tomorrow and you won't let yourself stop until you've done it perfectly another hundred times. Just make sure that you give this ankle some rest tonight. It's going to be sore for a few days."

  "I know," I said with a sigh. "Thank you."

  "Of course," she said.

  She stood and walked out of the room. As soon as the door closed, the tears started rolling down my cheeks. I pressed my hands over my face and leaned forward to rest them against my knees. The injury was minor. I had experienced countless bruises and bumps before, and the pain was already subsiding to a level that was easily tolerable. But I felt completely overwhelmed by the injury. It was something else, just another stumbling block that I was afraid I wouldn't be able to overcome. I was already incredibly lucky that the company was being as understanding as they were about my pregnancy. I knew that being pregnant and having a newborn was going to have a negative impact on my ability to pursue the career that I had envisioned, but they were willing to work with me. I was able to continue to dance through the summer and then would have a teaching position working with younger dancers during the period after the baby was born. I would have the opportunity to work my way back into the company and into performances. It wasn't ideal, but I wanted my baby, and it was the only option that I could take.

  Now I worried that even that was in jeopardy. The company was already taking a huge risk just by being so understanding and accommodating of my pregnancy. I worried that an injury, even something as minor as this, could show that I was even more of a risk and make them second guess their willingness to keep me. I didn't want them to see me as a liability or begin to think that I had taken the place of someone who would be much more of an asset to the company. I had spent my college career trying to be realistic and telling myself that a future in dance wasn't guaranteed. I had tried to prepare myself and give myself something else to rely on in the event that I wasn't able to continue the career that I had always envisioned.

  But now that I was in that position, I couldn't see anything else ahead of me. I couldn't see any other opportunities and fear was settling in. Fear that I wouldn't be able to find something else to do that would support me and my baby. Fear that even if I did find something that I wouldn't be fulfilled by it. Fear that I would lose touch with myself and everything that I had always known.

  I forced myself to calm down and straightened, settling my hands on my belly. I brought my focus in, toward the new life that was growing just beneath my touch. There were times when I worried about the little baby when I danced, but the doctors reassured me that it was well protected and that keeping my body active and healthy throughout my pregnancy in the way that it had been accustomed to before my pregnancy would be what was best for both of us. It would help me through and would also make delivery easier and safer.

  It was hard to think about giving birth. Right now, I was just trying to get through each day.

  "Come on, little one," I whispered to my baby. "I think we deserve a bubble bath."

  I walked out of the green room feeling the familiar pang that I did every time that I finished dancing and walked away alone. I longed for Jude. I missed him like I never thought that it was possible to miss someone. But there was nothin
g that I could do about it. I had waited too long. My chance had passed me by.

  My ankle was still hurting when I stood in the studio stretching after the next performance a few days later. I held onto the barre, rolling my ankles and then rising up onto the balls of my feet and down again to try to stretch the muscles and ease the tension out of the bruise. Behind me, I heard the door open and I glanced into the mirror to see the partner I danced with during one of the pieces come in. I gave him a half smile.

  "Hi, Robert," I said.

  "Hi, Ronnie. How's the ankle feeling?"

  "Better. Still a little sore."

  He walked up behind me and reached forward to run his fingers over the curve of my shoulder and onto my upper arm. I felt myself tense. Though I was used to him touching me, accustomed to being much closer to him as we were dancing, there was something else in this touch and it made my stomach turn. I stepped out of the way, feigning stretching to try to escape his touch, but Robert wasn't put off.

  "Let me get a look," he said.

  He bent down and I stepped back.

  "No," I said. "It's fine."

  He wrapped his hand around my ankle and I gasped at the sharp pain that rushed through it at the pressure that he applied. It caused me to bend down and when I did, Robert shot up from his kneeling position and grabbed onto my waist. He tried to pull me down with him and I tried to wriggle away, panic rushing through me. I couldn't scream. I didn't want to disturb everyone else. I just needed to get away from him.

  "Come on, Veronica," he said. "Why are you fighting? You know as well as I do that we have chemistry. That isn't just dancing up there."

  "It is just dancing, Robert," I insisted. "It always has been."

  Robert smiled as if I had said something flirty and took a step toward me.

  "No, it isn't. I see the way that you look at me. You love it when I touch you. Let me touch you more. Let's see what your body can do."

  "No, Robert. Get away from me."

  He reached for me again and I gasped as I saw the figure coming up behind him. As soon as Robert's hands grasped onto my waist again, Jude's hand clamped onto Robert and yanked him back. Robert's eyes widened as he left his feet and stumbled to the floor. Jude stepped between us and glared down at him.

  "She said no," he growled. "Get away from her."

  "What are you going to do?" Robert said, climbing to his feet and approaching Jude. "I'm half your age and probably twice your strength."

  "Really?" Jude asked.

  Robert surged toward him and Jude barely moved, not even taking a step before smashing his fist into Robert's face. The crack was sickening, but the sight of him lying on the floor, blood splashing onto his skin, felt strangely satisfying. Robert's face was contorted with anger when he glared at me, seething as he drew up to his feet.

  "You disgust me," he said. "Who do you think you are? You were a pity choice by the company and you'll never be anything." He started toward the door and then turned back to me. "You might want to lay off the cheeseburgers, Ronnie. Pretty soon nobody's going to be able to haul your fat ass into a lift."

  I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me as he walked out of the studio. The head of the company had decided that it would be best not to share the news of my pregnancy with the rest of the dancers, knowing that it would change the way that they looked at me and were willing to interact. I didn't think that it was obvious yet, but now I felt like the world was spinning around me. I felt my knees go weak and I sat down hard on the studio floor.

  Jude rushed to my side and crouched down.

  "Are you alright?" he asked.

  I nodded, instinctively curling myself around my belly.

  "He just scared me," I said.

  "How is your ankle?" he asked.

  I looked at him quizzically.

  "My ankle?"

  "You hurt it a few days ago. Does it feel better?"

  I drew in a sharp breath.

  "You were watching me?"

  He nodded.

  "I've come to the last four performances," he admitted. "You look incredible up there."

  "If you were here, why didn't you come talk to me?"

  "I wanted to. I meant to. That first time that I came, I meant to come talk to you afterward, but I couldn't."

  "Why?"

  "I was afraid."

  I was stunned by the response. I hadn't expected that he would ever admit that he was afraid, that he would be willing to make himself vulnerable in front of me again.

  "Why were you afraid?"

  "Because I didn't know how you would respond to seeing me. There's something that I need to tell you, Veronica."

  The impact of his words hit me and I knew that whatever it was, I had to speak first. Whatever the response. Whatever the consequences. I needed to tell him.

  "There's something I need to tell you first."

  "Alright," he said cautiously.

  I climbed to my feet and released the skirt from around my waist, letting it slip down my legs to expose the full silhouette of my body in the unforgiving tightness of the leotard and tights beneath. At four months the swell was just starting, just pressing through, but I ran my hand down it, wanting to bring it to Jude's attention. His eyes locked on it and then rose to my face. I nodded.

  "I'm pregnant," I said.

  I braced myself, preparing for his reaction. He had only just appeared back in my life and I felt like I was immediately pushing him away. But it was what I needed to do. I couldn't keep this from him. I couldn't let him say whatever it was that he wanted to without being completely honest with him first.

  "You are?" he asked.

  I nodded.

  "I'm due in March." He brought his gaze back down to stare at my belly again, remaining silent. "I know it's not what you want and I'm not asking you for anything."

  Jude got to his knees and his hands settled on my belly, his fingertips running over the swell softly.

  "It's everything I want," he whispered.

  "It is?"

  Jude leaned forward and kissed my belly, leaning his face against me. I could feel his lips moving and hear him murmuring, but didn't know what he was saying. I didn't mind. Those words were for the baby and I wanted him to share them. Whatever it was that he was saying, they were the first words of a father to his child and our baby deserved to hear them.

  Finally, he pressed back onto his heels and stood, wrapping his arms around my waist.

  "I love you, Veronica. I love you. You were right. I should have told you a long time ago and I owe so many of them to you, but I hope that you will accept these first."

  I was stunned. I opened my mouth, then closed it.

  "Are you sure?" I finally asked.

  "Yes," Jude said. "I never expected to feel this way again. But I never expected you. I showed you parts of my life that I have never shown to anyone else, and rather than judging me or shying away from me, you offered yourself in return and went to unimaginable lengths to try to soothe a pain that I never thought I would recover from. You gave me more than I could have ever hoped for, Veronica. You brought me back to life. And now we're having a baby."

  "I love you, too," I said, feeling like they were the only words that I had within me to say. "I love you so much."

  Jude kissed me and then stepped back so that he could touch my belly again.

  "Michael is going to be so excited."

  I felt my eyes widen in surprise.

  "Michael?"

  Jude nodded.

  "We've been getting to know each other. He's been struggling a little on his own since coming out here to follow me. But now," he looked at my belly and ran his hand across it, then looked back at me. "Now we can be a family."

  I curled into Jude's arms and closed my eyes, drifting away into the rhythm of his heart.

  Family.

  Never had that word sounded more precious.

  Epilogue

  Veronica

  I opened the door quietl
y and peeked inside, a smile coming to my lips when I saw the sweet tiny eyes looking back at me. I walked into the nursery and gazed down into the crib at my daughter.

  "Hi, sweet baby," I said. "How was your nap?"

  I reached in and gently lifted my newborn daughter into my arms and curled her against me. She fit so perfectly into my arms and against my body that it felt as though I had been crafted just for the purpose of holding her. I walked over to the window and pushed the curtains out of the way, allowing the late morning sunlight to wash into the room. I looked around, smiling at the beautifully transformed nursery. There were still touches that reminded me of how the room looked the first time I saw it, but there was light and freshness in the space now that seemed to make it shimmer.

  Jude had brought Michael into the nursery that had been designed for him but that he had never been able to use and they spent a few hours sharing stories, talking about their lives, and continuing to strengthen the bond that was long overdue to build between them in this room. When they emerged, smiles on their lips, laughter in their voice, and tears on their cheeks, I knew that it was different. It was time that the nursery was passed to the next baby of the family.

  The rocking chair was the same but now all the books on the shelves had been read and joined by many others. There had been many evenings in the three weeks since my daughter had come home that Michael had sat in that very chair, cradling her in one arm or gazing at her in the bassinet that he drew close to her, and read through the books that had been meant for him. It seemed only right that he be the first to hear them, even if he read them himself. Three nights ago, I had witnessed a moment that I knew would stay with me forever when I peered into the nursery to find Michael sitting on the floor in front of Jude, holding the baby in his arms as my husband read to them. He was a grown man, but in that moment, he was Jude's little boy, finally hearing the bedtime story that was rightfully his.

 

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