The Odd Ballerz

by Ruthie Robinson

  “Coffee?” he asked.

  “Instant,” she said, pulling a cup from another counter. He made another face.

  “You’re a food snob, you know that, right?” she said and he laughed. She led them to a square-shaped table with four chairs, one on each side. He took the one at the end, and she sat beside him.

  “So enough about me. How was the install? All done?” she asked, starting to eat.

  “It is. Yesterday, and Meredith stayed to help. She left this morning, by the way, back to Colorado. Told me to wish you well,” he said.

  “That’s great news. Congratulations,” she said, smiling up at him. “A long way from the boy that struggled with dyslexia. It’s nice, the part about Meredith leaving,” she said, chuckling.

  He smiled. “So, Yancy told me about his interview. How was yours?”

  Her gaze darted over to him. She was surprised again.

  “Yancy,” he said, by way of explanation.

  “Right,” she said, and smiled. “I didn’t go. I withdrew actually. I’m not interested in moving to another city, which would be expected of me if I were selected. No way, especially given all that’s happened to Alex, not that I was sold on the idea to begin with. I want to be here, living around the people I love.”

  “It never became too much… taking care of them?”

  “Nope, you do what you have to, right?”

  He smiled. “So where are we on the planning for the opening?” he asked, changing the subject again.

  “We’re so good, dude. Caterer, check. Invitations, check. Quiet little country-playing quartet, check. Ordered tablecloths and whatever stuff to turn Sloan Glassworks into an elegant event for its fans and customers, check. Thank you, Jones,” she said.

  He laughed. “Thank you, Jones,” he said.

  “Alex is out tomorrow. I’m going to stick around here, spend Tuesday with Charlotte to make sure she’s not overwhelmed, you know?”

  “Always a mom,” he said.

  “I guess.”

  “There are worse things.”

  “So, Wednesday evening? I’ll be back,” she said, turning the subject to another important topic for her, or it was getting to be.

  “That seems long,” he said, smiling.

  “It does, doesn’t it? I don’t think I could get there any earlier. Tuesday night, maybe… if I abandoned my sisters.”

  “Now is good,” he said, chuckling, his eyes twinkling, filled with merriment, staring at her.

  “Now is perfect,” she said, smiling and reached for his hand. He smiled, and followed her down the hall and into her lovely bedroom, where he stayed for a while.

  #

  Later that evening Z was stretched in his favorite chair, a beer in his hand, a little bit of breeze blowing in his face, dozing off and on, enjoying the evening, quiet from having nothing major on his agenda for the next few days. Going to see Jones this morning had been perfect. He thought of his first time spent in her home, in her bed, in her. Funny, eager, and open was Jones. He heard a car and looked up. It was one that he recognized this time. Aubrey. A lot had changed since he’d seen her last.

  He watched her slide out of her car. An attractive woman she was, and one he had absolutely no interest in. He continued to sit, waiting for her to reach him. It didn’t take long.

  “Hi again,” she said all smiles, standing by his feet.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “How are you? Did you get my texts?”

  “I did. I’ve been busy.”

  “With work, training?” she asked.

  “Yes, that, and I’m seeing someone,” he said, might as well get to the point.

  “Oh, that’s good,” she said, surprised, but gamely playing it off. “How’s Memphis? You still training her?”

  “Yes, I am, and she’s fine.”

  “She didn’t show up for her interviews. I guess she can’t leave her sisters behind after all. I should be happy, it increases my chances of getting the position,” she said.

  “True,” he said.

  “I haven’t seen her since camp. Things haven’t been the same between us since my talk to you. I miss her. Believe it or not, I was only trying to help.”

  He was quiet, didn’t have anything really to say to that. He took a pull from his beer instead.

  “So the new person you’re seeing, is it serious?”

  “I think so,” he said.

  “She’s lucky then,” she said, looking around. She clearly hadn’t expected this outcome. “Tell Memphis I said hello. Anyway, I’d better let you enjoy the rest of your evening. See you at tryouts.”

  He smiled, and just like that she was gone.

  #

  Monday evening

  If you’ve seen one hospital waiting room, chances are you’ve seen them all, Memphis thought of the square room she was currently sitting in, alone, waiting patiently, she might add, to take her sister home. She’d left Alex in the room with Aarik over an hour ago. Checking out was taking a lot more time than she’d imagined it would. Good thing she had lot of things to do with her idle time like dream of Z. He figured prominently in her thoughts these days, and today was more of the same: thinking of him, lost in yesterday and all those images of him, at home, in her bed, really in her was the best image of them all.

  She liked him, and she thought it was mutual. He’d said as much, really and why ask her to get to know him if all he wanted was sex. The doubting part of her brain would push that around to scare her, she guessed. She wasn’t sure what to make of his request, to wait and see, to get to know him, as if there was something he hadn’t shown her that could make him a no-go for her. It would have to be something major, to push her away. Of course, he didn’t know that, and she wouldn’t tell him. She would just play the wait and see game.

  “Memphis,” Alex said, interrupting her Z-musings. She was seated in the standard hospital-issued wheelchair with Aarik standing solidly behind her, hands on the handles, prepared to wheel her sister out to the car.

  “Finally?” Memphis said, standing up.

  “Finally,” Alex said. Aarik smiled.

  “Would you like to carry the bag or to push?” Aarik asked, smiling at her. A good guy, Memphis thought again, another finally to add to their collection.

  “You can push. I’ll take the bag,” she said, and they were off, taking her sister home, black eyes and all, but alive; a blessing beyond measure.

  #

  Z was headed to the area behind the utility building, where a little house, that once was a very large shed, was located. He’d converted it to accommodate his family and friends that dropped in occasionally and wanted to stay a while.

  An airing-out along with a check for critters was his mission today. Sometimes the occasional raccoon or squirrel thought to make their home inside, and neither of them should be encountered unexpectedly.

  He found the key underneath the mat and inserted it into the door. Two large rooms was this space. The front room was part kitchen and dining area, to the right, and part living room, to the left. The back door was a straight-shot ahead, and the bedroom and one small bathroom were through the door left of the living room. He walked over to open the two windows on the same side as the kitchen, unlocked and lifted them both, allowing the small breeze to pass through. Air conditioning was available here too. This was Texas, after all.

  He went over to the refrigerator next for a quick look-see. It should be empty and it was. He’d stock it after his parents arrived, and they would be here soon. How soon, he didn’t know.

  Originally they were scheduled to arrive a week before the opening, which was at end of the month, three weeks from now. Of course they would attend; they had always been present at just about anything he did. He’d called his father yesterday and asked him to come earlier. He wanted them to meet Memphis and he wanted it sooner rather than later.

  He was growing more and more sure that she was the one for him, and he suspected she felt the same, although n
either of them had mentioned it. He had his reasons and he guessed she had hers. His reasons, his reluctance, all had to do with his family and her response to meeting them. Leftover angst from last year was mainly responsible for this course of action, this drive to show her just what being with him meant.

  He scanned the bedroom and then the adjacent bath. All good in here, he thought. He walked back to the main room for one final check. All good, he thought. He locked the door, replaced the key under the mat, and headed back to his home.

  NINETEEN

  Wednesday

  Jones had arrived. He smiled at her driving toward the parking lot now, ten minutes to six. Like clockwork was Jones now that her life had resumed its normalcy. Alex was convalescing under Charlotte’s watchful eyes for a week, to be safe, then she would be moving in with Jones.

  “How’s the training? Is she getting any better?” Carl asked, interrupting his thoughts.

  “Yes, she is.”

  “Still seems like a waste of time to me to put her on a football field. Not when there are so many other much more pleasant things one could do with her,” he said.

  They stood watching as Memphis parked and stepped out of her car. And Z smiled when she stood, dressed in her usual, which today was the gold dress of hers, the one he’d so admired the first week of camp, but hadn’t seen since.

  “Yep, a waste,” Carl said, shaking his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He was leaving for the day.

  “Yep,” Z said, his gaze fixed on Memphis, who was walking towards him now. No way were they training today.

  “Jones,” he said, smiling. She stood in front of him, smiling too.

  “Coach,” she said, reading need on his face, a feeling she certainly understood, since she’d been feeling an equal measure of it too.

  “Another day off is what we need. Was that what you were thinking?” she asked.

  “I was,” he said, not even going to pretend this wasn’t what he wanted, pulling her into his arms. His mouth was on hers not a second later. Tongues finding their way into each other’s mouths, his hands on her ass, moving, caressing, whatever; mostly it was pulling her hips into his.

  They both moaned, and forgot about everything except feasting at each other’s mouths for a while.

  He laughed after he pulled away. “I love this dress,” he said, pushing her away so he could get a better look.

  “I love that you love this dress,” she said, smiling.

  He laughed. “Inside?”

  “And now is good,” she said, chuckling.

  He clasped her hand in his, looked around the shop, scanning it for things that couldn’t keep. Nope, he was at a stopping point. They were halfway to his house when they heard noises, automotive noises, coming from two vans snaking around the drive and coming towards them. Two Volkswagen vans, they determined after closer inspection, one spit-shined and polished new, and the other one not so much, and straight out of a seventies movie.

  Z groaned.

  “Not good. More friends?” Memphis asked.

  “My parents,” he said, and even he hadn’t expected them this soon.

  “Oh,” she said, surprised. “So, is that a happy-to-see-them groan? Or a what-the-hell-are-they-doing-here groan? Do you want me to leave?”

  “It’s more the first, although I wished they’d come after we’d had some time alone,” he said, her hand in his as the first VW passed. A man was driving, or she thought it was a man, with lots of long flowing hair, so maybe not. The second, older van passed and it was another long-haired person, and Memphis was pretty sure that the second driver was a woman.

  “My mother,” he said after the second car.

  “Oh,” she said.

  They walked the remaining distance to the house, following the direction of the vans, which were parking now. With friends and parents showing up all the time, she was beginning to understand his need for so much space.

  “Hey,” he said to his parents, who were getting out of their vans now. He continued to hold her hand in his, pulling her along beside him. Two smiling people were walking toward them, arms outstretched in welcome.

  “Z, my man,” his father said. Long hair, lots of gray in the long strands dancing around his shoulders, casual in pants and a t-shirt with the words DEAD HEAD written across the front of it. He and the woman could have been twins in the hair category, as far as Memphis was concerned.

  “And who is this?” his mother said, smiling at Memphis with a question in her eyes. Her hair was curlier than her husband’s, Memphis thought on closer inspection. She had her share of gray hairs—but less than Z’s father—framing her face. Dangly dreamcatcher earrings hung from her ears. She was channeling Earth mother with her tunic-styled shirt over a long, flowing, multicolored skirt and Birkenstock sandals on her feet.

  “This is Jones, a friend of mine, who I’m also training. Jones, these are my parents, Tim and Sonora Sloan,” he said.

  “Memphis. It’s Memphis Jones, but my friends call me Memphis. Z calls me Jones, ’cause he’s my coach,” she said.

  “Your coach? What sport is he training you to play? Tell me it’s not that dreadful football. You still coaching the Ballerz, is that the name of your team of women?” Sonora asked.

  “Yes,” Z said.

  Sonora shook her head. “Just because men can and do doesn’t mean we should too,” she said.

  Z turned to face Memphis. “She’s doesn’t like football. Never has, never will. Thinks it’s a barbaric form of slavery with the owners getting rich at the expense of the players,” Z said.

  “That’s not all true, but really, is it safe anymore? All those head injuries, of course I’m concerned. I only have one eldest son,” she said, gazing at her son with that mother’s adoration that Memphis missed so much. Z rolled his eyes. “All that aside, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Memphis, and is he really training you? Alone?” she asked.

  “Yes, we’re alone, or I’m alone. Yes, Z’s training me, but I’m helping him as well, with his opening and some general organizing. We’re a trade,” she said, out of the blue nervous and that sounded crazy. She smiled.

  “I see,” Sonora said, looking between the two of them, speculation in her gaze.

  “Z, what’s for dinner? Z was our family’s most popular cook growing up,” Tim said, placing his hand on his son’s shoulder, smiling at Memphis again.

  “I should probably leave you alone with your family,” Memphis said, meeting Z’s eyes.

  “No, don’t leave on our account. You should stay, or does Z kick you out after he trains you?” Sonora said, and winked at Memphis.

  “Cut it out,” Z said, a playful warning in his voice. “Memphis is staying, if she wants to,” he said, looking at her now.

  “I will, if I’m not interrupting your visit.”

  “No, we’re here until the opening, that’s plenty of time to see this one,” Sonora said, pointing to Z. “He’ll be sick of us soon enough, no need to rush it,” she said, smiling, lifting her cheek for Z to kiss. Which he did, like a dutiful son.

  “Dinner?” Tim asked again, and Z laughed, but they were moving now, over to his home, for a different type of nourishment, instead of the one she’d been clamoring for all day. Memphis looked up and caught Z’s expression, which mirrored her disappointed one, but what could they do? Nothing but go with the flow, she thought. They were almost to the back door now, Z in the lead, Sonora behind him, Memphis behind her, and Tim bringing up the rear.

  #

  Dinner preparation turned out to be a family affair, with Z handing out assignments. Sonora was put on the salad detail, Memphis was in charge of following Z’s instructions of hand-me-this, pass-me-that, before she was given the table-setting duty. Z disappeared to the deck to put fish on the grill. Tim was in charge of drinks, and no, it wasn’t water, Tim said. Z had the good stuff, so he had disappeared out back, wherever out back was. It was somewhere that Z kept his wine stash.

  “So you’re helping Z w
ith the opening,” Sonora said, throwing tomatoes into her bowl of greens, now that it was only the two of them alone in the kitchen.

  “I am helping him, but working through Marisa. Do you know Marisa?” Memphis said, placing the plates on the table.

  “I do. How is she?” Sonora asked.

  “Fine, I think,” Memphis said.

  “At one time, I’d thought things would work out between them. But we like who we like, don’t we?” she said looking expectantly at Memphis, smiling.

  “You must be pretty special, huh? Z doesn’t cook for just anyone,” Tim said, entering the room with four bottles of wine in his hands.

  “We’re friends,” Memphis said.

  “I hope you’re practicing safe sex at least, friend. Things are very different now and being free and open is not as easy as it once was. All we had in the good old days were the run-of-the-mill venereal diseases, and now, well, it’s all kinds of things you can catch,” Sonora said.

  “Right,” Z said, entering the doorway, darting a glance at Jones. “Don’t let her bother you. She’s big into shocking people. Does it for sport,” he said, chuckling, giving his mother a look.

  “So you and Tim are here for the opening?” Memphis asked.

  “Yes, for the opening, then it’s back to Colorado before the winter sets in,” Tim said.

  “You like living in Colorado?” Memphis asked.

  “We do. Have you ever visited the state?” Tim asked, removing the cork from the first bottle of wine.

  “No.”

  “We love it there. Weed is legal. There’s space to move around, live according to your own rules,” Tim said, a huge smile on his face. “Do you partake?” he asked.

  “Uh…” Memphis said.

  “That’s a no then,” Sonora said, chuckling.

  “We’ll just have to introduce you to all that Colorado has to offer,” Tim said, moving his eyebrows up and down. “Know what I mean?” he asked. “Z will have to bring you up to visit next summer.”

  “Z will have to do what?” he asked, entering the kitchen again. He was at the refrigerator, removing lemons this time.