by Gary Smalley
“I’m guessing she didn’t think she had to. It’s pretty customary for the bride and groom to dance.”
Jim thought about it. What he wanted was to get up and leave, right now. He knew what was going on here. Audrey was trying to make him feel guilty for something that had happened twenty-seven years ago. “I guess not.”
“I never have,” she said. “But you know what, Jim? In a way, you and Marilyn did dance that day. And you’ve been dancing the same dance ever since, right up until almost two weeks ago when she walked out the door.”
“I’m sorry. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She smiled. “And,” she continued, “you already know all the steps to this dance. It’s a dance almost every couple learns shortly after they get married.”
Okay, she must be talking about some kind of metaphor. “I guess I’m supposed to ask, what’s the dance?”
“Obviously, I’m using a kind of word picture. My husband Ted called it the Fear Dance. And my guess, Jim, is you’ve become pretty skilled at it already.”
27
The Fear Dance,” Jim repeated. “The only thing I’m afraid of right now is Marilyn leaving me for good, causing us to go broke. We could lose our house, my business could be ruined—”
“I’m not just talking about what you’re afraid of now,” Audrey said. “I’m talking about other fears, fears you’ve had for a long time, even way back on your wedding day. And before that. Ted used to call them core fears.”
What was she going on about?
“The thing is,” she continued, “you probably don’t know those fears are even there, or what they are. And you probably don’t know what Marilyn’s fears are, either. But you both have them.” She took a sip of her coffee.
Jim did too. It was already lukewarm. “Okay,” he said, “let’s say I buy that. I’m not sure I do yet, but to make sure I’m following you . . . why do you call it a Fear Dance?”
“See, these core fears cause us to react in certain ways to others, especially people we’re close to. When they push our fear buttons, so to speak. We get hurt when that happens, so we react. Our reaction often causes us to step on our partner’s fears. Like stepping on their toes while dancing. Then they get hurt and so they react accordingly. All the while, neither one understands what’s going on, because we don’t know what’s making us afraid inside, or what our spouse’s fears are. So this Fear Dance keeps going, round and round. Two people just stepping on each other’s toes. It’s a funny sight to see on the dance floor, but in real life, it’s very painful.”
Stepping on each other’s toes, because we’re afraid? Jim wasn’t all that excited to come here to learn how to dance, but this wasn’t at all what he expected.
“Let me give you an example,” she said. “A moment ago when I asked you if you were nervous coming here for your first dance lesson, what did you say?”
“That I was terrified.”
“But when I asked you why you didn’t dance with your wife on your wedding day, what did you say?”
Jim thought a moment. “I said . . . it was because I couldn’t dance. But I wasn’t afraid, I just didn’t know how. That’s not the same thing.”
“You sure about that?”
What did she want him to say? “Pretty sure,” he said.
“What would have happened if you had just said yes when it came time for the two of you to dance? What if you just did it because you loved Marilyn and wanted to make her happy?”
“Everyone would have laughed at me the moment they saw how badly I—” He stopped talking. He had been afraid. Afraid of being laughed at. This was actually starting to make sense.
“You were afraid of failure,” she said. “Afraid you’d dance so bad you’d be humiliated in front of all those people.” Jim nodded in agreement. “Fear of failure is a pretty powerful fear. I think it may be a core fear for you, Jim.”
Could this be true? Was that when everything got offtrack with them, way back then?
“Do you know how powerful your fear of failure was on your wedding day?”
He looked at her, unsure of what to say.
“You love Marilyn, right? Loved her on your wedding day?”
“Very much. She’s . . . she’s the only woman I’ve ever loved.”
“But see, this fear of yours was more powerful than your love for Marilyn. All of a sudden, she didn’t matter. You left her all alone out on that dance floor, every eye watching her. The dream she had since she was a little girl was being crushed as each moment ticked by. Now she’s not here, so I can’t ask her, but I’d venture to say, she wasn’t feeling too loved right about then, was she?”
Jim’s eyes started moistening up.
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Audrey continued, “if feeling unloved or rejected is one of Marilyn’s core fears. And I imagine the two of you have been to a lot of weddings together since your wedding day.”
Jim nodded. “We have.”
“And probably, at every one of those, as couples got up to dance at the reception, your core fear kicked in, and the two of you didn’t dance.”
“I’ve never danced with her.”
“So every time that happened, I’ll bet she flashed back to your wedding day, and the pain would come back all over again, stirring up all those feelings of rejection.”
He let out a deep, pent-up sigh. “Marilyn actually said something like that in her note, something about how this whole thing got triggered by a recent wedding.”
“So see, in a way, Jim, you did dance with Marilyn that day. And many times since. It was the Fear Dance.”
Jim felt awful.
He’d never realized any of these things before, but now they were painfully clear. And painfully true. He had been afraid of being laughed at on their wedding day. Afraid of destroying the athletic image he’d worked so hard to create in high school and college. So, to preserve that image, he had completely rejected his bride, forced her to play the fool instead, and totally crushed her girlhood dreams.
“My coffee’s gotten too cold to enjoy,” Audrey said. “I’m going to freshen it up. You want some more? It’s decaf, won’t keep you up tonight.”
“What?” Jim looked up. “Yes, that would be nice. Thanks.”
Audrey got up and walked into the kitchen to get the coffeepot. After she topped off their cups, she turned the coffeemaker off and set the pot back in its place. “I just remembered something I wanted to give you. Better go get it now, before I forget.” She walked past him toward the living room.
“What is it?
“Just a little present for you. Something for next week.” She stopped and looked down at his feet. “You’re what, a size 10?”
“Yes, good guess.”
“After teaching dance lessons for thirty years, you become a pretty good judge of people’s feet. Wait right here.” She hurried through the living room and out of sight. Moments later, she walked back holding a shoe box and set it on the table.
“What’s this?”
“Open it. It’s for you. Now, don’t feel like you have to take them.”
Jim opened the lid and saw a shiny pair of black leather shoes. “Are these dance shoes?” he asked.
“The best money can buy.”
“How much do you want for them?”
“Nothing. They’re a gift. From me to you. They were the last pair I bought Ted before he died. He got sick before he ever got a chance to use them.”
“But Audrey, I can’t . . . I can’t take these.”
“Of course you can. I want you to have them. Shoes this nice don’t belong buried in the back of a closet. I want to see them spinning and swirling on the dance floor.”
“I’m not sure that’ll happen on these feet,” he said.
“I am,” she said with a smile. “I know they will.”
They sat there a few moments in silence. Jim wasn’t sure if they were done or what she planned next. She looked like she had something else to
say. Finally she said it. “There’s one last thing I need to mention tonight. As I got out the shoes I remembered it. Something Ted always talked about right after he’d tell folks about the Fear Dance.”
Jim wasn’t sure he was ready to hear any more. He looked at his watch. Had he only been here twenty minutes? It felt like two hours had gone by. “Will it take long?”
“Not at all. Won’t take two minutes.”
“What’s it about?”
“Misplaced expectations,” she said. “It has to do with the things we want, and how we keep looking in the wrong place to get them.” She put a teaspoon of sugar in her cup and stirred, then tasted it. “Anyway, it’s like when people dance. Sometimes they move forward together, sometimes they step back. But what happens when both partners step forward at the same time?”
“I guess they bang into each other.”
“That’s right. The same thing happens with our expectations. When couples get married, they have this wrong notion that their spouse is supposed to make them happy, to fulfill all their wants and desires. That was certainly true with me and Ted. The problem is, it works at first but only a little while. You know what happens after that?”
“We get disappointed.” He guessed it was their age difference, but Jim couldn’t help feeling like he was back in elementary school being quizzed by a teacher.
“Do you know why?”
“Because . . . our spouse can’t fulfill all our expectations?”
She smiled. “You’re catching on. I’m so glad. I haven’t explained all these things to anyone since Ted died. And he used to do most of the talking. See, the truth is, God designed things so only he could meet the deepest needs in our hearts. But most people aren’t used to looking to God that way. We put all our hope in the person we fall in love with. All these romantic movies and love songs don’t help us very much here, either. They tell us over and over again that we’ll be happy if we can just find the right person and fall in love. So when we find that special person, we get all excited. But do you know what happens not too far down the road?”
“We get disappointed.” This seemed like the right answer to all her questions.
“And once that happens, we start looking for another partner. But see, all we’ve really done if we leave is find another person to dance that old Fear Dance with, and the vicious cycle starts all over again.” She opened a manila folder and handed Jim a few sheets of paper stapled together. “Between now and next week, I’d like you to look these things over. It’s a list Ted came up with, the most common core fears people have. Read it over when you’re not in a rush and you have some time alone.”
Time alone is all I have now, Jim thought.
Just then something she’d just said repeated in his mind. We start looking for another partner. Is that what Marilyn was doing now? Is that what this was all about? He had failed to meet her expectations, and now she was looking for a new dance partner?
28
Marilyn was beside herself. She couldn’t remember when she’d ever had so much fun.
It was Thursday evening. They were just finishing up their second dance lesson at the Windsor Studio. She was sitting in a chair, almost breathless, wiping her face and neck with a towel. For most of the last thirty minutes, the class had danced the basic waltz nonstop to some of the most beautiful music she’d ever heard. She had danced with Roberto, and of course he had danced flawlessly. But other than a few missteps at the beginning, Marilyn had kept right in step with him the whole time.
She’d been practicing at the apartment all week, but only when she was alone. Charlotte was thrilled she was taking the lessons, but for some reason, Marilyn couldn’t bring herself to practice with Charlotte there.
When she’d first walked in this evening, she’d felt a little lost. Audrey wasn’t there and hadn’t shown up to class all night. Marilyn wondered where she was. Once again, Marilyn was the only one there without a partner. But true to his promise, before the class began Roberto had come over and reminded her that she’d be his partner tonight. And several of the class members had greeted her by name and talked with her like old friends.
She was so glad now she’d signed up for these classes.
Just then, an unsettling thought came. She glanced at the big window, then felt instant relief. Jim wasn’t there. She looked by the front door, remembering how he’d stormed in last week, the furious look on his face. He wasn’t there, either.
“Watching you and Roberto dance tonight was really something.”
Marilyn turned around to face the voice. It was Faye, Gordon’s wife. He was the older man from last week who couldn’t get the dance steps down. “What?” she said, although she’d heard what Faye had said.
“You and Roberto,” Faye repeated. “You were such a joy to watch.”
“Why, thank you.”
“It was like you two were in a different league than the rest of us. Of course, you’d expect Roberto to be, but you were doing a good job there, holding your own. Gordon and I are just beginners, and we’re not getting off to a great start, if you ask me.” She was smiling.
Marilyn didn’t know what to say. It was a fairly small room, so you couldn’t help but watch everyone else as they danced. Flashes of the considerable number of times Faye had scolded Gordon came to mind, every time he stepped on her toes or got the steps wrong. She always did it in a playful tone, and Gordon always laughed after. “How are your feet holding up?” Marilyn said.
Faye looked down at them. “They’re doing fine. You musta thought I was kidding about wearing steel-toed shoes.” She looked up again. “I wasn’t. I told Gordon when he kept pushing me to sign up for these classes, I ain’t about to let you mangle my feet once a week. It’s bad enough when we have to dance at weddings every now and then.”
“Gordon was the one who wanted the two of you to take these classes?”
Faye nodded. “Ol’ Gordon, he loves to dance. But I don’t know why. He’s awful at it. Course, I don’t need to tell you that.” She leaned forward. “The man can’t even clap on beat. All these years we been married, every time there’s a chance to dance, he drags me out there on the floor. Now don’t get me wrong, I love to dance. And I love Gordon to bits. But those two things don’t necessarily go together.”
Marilyn wondered what it must be like to have a husband who loved to dance. And here he was, like Faye said, terrible at it. Gordon didn’t seem to mind her playful jabs a bit. “Is he making any progress?” Marilyn said.
Faye looked over her shoulder. Gordon was by the desk, talking to one of the other husbands. “I tell him he is,” she said. “But you know . . . I don’t think so. I’m not sure these lessons are helping one bit. But I promised him I’d give it a try. See, we’re celebrating our fiftieth anniversary in two months, and we’re taking a seven-day Caribbean cruise. Gordon looked into it, and there’s all kinds of opportunities to dance on these cruises. He’s convinced himself all he needs is a few good lessons, and we’d be all set.” She looked up at him with love in her eyes. “It’s only week two, but I’m not that hopeful. Let’s just say, I plan on packing these steel-toed shoes for that cruise.”
Marilyn smiled. “Fifty years, congratulations. That’s an amazing accomplishment these days.”
“I suppose so,” Faye said. “He’s really a wonderful man when you look past his flaws, and pretty easy to be with. I’m the one that’s a pill.”
Marilyn wondered what it must be like to be married for fifty years to someone you still felt that way about. She and Jim had made it just beyond the twenty-five-year mark, and look where they were. She remembered how they had celebrated their silver anniversary, also on a Caribbean cruise. The ship had stopped at ports like San Juan, St. Thomas, and the Cayman Islands. But the trip had been her idea, not Jim’s. When she booked it, she had high hopes it might stir fresh romance into their relationship.
That didn’t happen. Not even close.
Jim had spent most of his time wi
th his nose in his laptop or reading a bestselling business book he’d bought a few days before they’d left. “Can’t wait to read this,” he’d said with far more enthusiasm than he’d shown toward her about any aspect of the trip. She couldn’t even get him to spend an hour going over the different excursions they could take together at the various ports of call. “You pick them out,” he’d said. “Whatever you want, hon. I’ll be fine with it.” He didn’t even look up from the computer screen.
But he certainly had loved the food. So had she. How could you not? Gourmet meals from morning till night, prepared by chefs. And plenty of it, all included in the price. It had turned out to be the high point of the cruise . . . for both of them. It certainly wasn’t the dancing. Gordon was right about that. There were plenty of opportunities to dance aboard cruise ships. Marilyn knew better than to even bring that subject up with Jim.
“Excuse me, ladies.”
Marilyn looked up into Roberto’s smiling face. He was bending over, one arm leaning on the back of her chair.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything too important.”
“No,” Faye said. “We’re just yakking.”
“Marilyn, could I have a word with you?”
“What?”
“A word? Won’t take a minute of your time.”
“You two go ahead,” Faye said, standing up. “I’ve gotta get Gordon home in time for his meds.” She smiled and walked away.
Roberto sat in her seat, right next to Marilyn. Someone by the front door yelled good-bye to him. He looked up and waved, then gave her his undivided attention. He had such penetrating eyes. Marilyn had noticed that when they danced. When Roberto looked at her, it was like the two of them were alone in the room.
Just her. Just him. Gliding across the floor.
“I wondered,” Roberto said, “if you’d allow me to take you to lunch tomorrow. There’s something I need to discuss with you.”
“You want to take me . . . to lunch?” Was he asking her out on a date? She instantly tensed up.