Last Dance

Home > Other > Last Dance > Page 20
Last Dance Page 20

by Renee Fowler


  Chapter 25

  Anna

  Walking away from Jack was hard, but it was the right thing. Right for him, and right for me. That’s what I keep telling myself anyways, but the following afternoon I am almost desperate to see him again, and I wait anxiously for him to come through the door of the studio.

  Sarah charges through first, but it’s not Jack that follows. It’s his sister Jamie.

  I think I’m almost able to keep the devastation from my face.

  Jaime gives me a smile and a little wave, like everything is perfectly normal. My guess is she thinks it is. Jack doesn’t show a lot. He has a hard time saying things, and I’m sure he’s content to let his sister assume everything is fine.

  Sarah skips in my direction. “I made you something.”

  “You did?”

  She pulls her hand from behind her back to reveal a small bracelet, a thin, pink strap adorned with plastic beads that spell my name. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

  As I slide it over my fist, she holds out her other hand to reveal a similar bracelet that spells her own name. “Now we can match.”

  “I’ll keep it forever,” I promise, my emotions bubbling perilously close to the surface, but I get control of myself, and get through the class.

  I get through the rest of the week too, the only way I know how. I fall back to my old routine. I dance and teach, and try not to think about Jack, but it happens anyways. Sometimes I feel angry at him, and sorry for myself. Other moments I feel sorry for him, and angry at fate.

  The next thursday when I drive to the bus station to pick up Gregory, I feel nothing but happy to see a familiar face. He grabs me up in his arms and lifts me a few inches off the ground. After he sets me back on my feet, he sucks in an exaggerated breath. “All this fresh air. I’m not sure if my lungs can handle it.”

  Back at my apartment he exclaims that it is huge, and he dotes on Princess. We drink way too much wine, and he gently reminds me that I’m better off while I sob bitter, emotional tears over Jack.

  The next morning I am determined to put it behind me. Gregory is only here for a few days, and I refuse to spend his whole visit crying over things I can’t change.

  It’s unusually warm, so we walk the short distance to the studio. I point out where I was attacked, and Gregory scowls. We stop in at that place on the corner for coffee and sweet, blueberry muffins that I probably shouldn’t be indulging in. I recount the weird conversation I had with Mikhail there.

  Gregory laughs. “I can’t believe you’re really doing this.”

  “I can’t either. I almost don’t want to.”

  “You should. It’s going to be fantastic, and it won’t be so bad. Mikhail has really mellowed out.”

  “He has?” I thought it was just with me.

  “Yeah. He’s a lot less dickish these days. It almost makes me regret leaving.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  “After The Nutcracker, if I make it all the way through the season. I need to get my ankle scoped again.” He pops the last bite of muffin in his mouth. Chewing slowly, he stares out the window.

  “Are you coming back?”

  He shrugs, and his eyes go little pink.

  I had arthroscopic surgery on my knee almost six years ago, and the recovery was brutal. “You should come here after your surgery. I can take care of you.”

  “No, you’ll be busy gearing up for the gala, and I need to start looking ahead to the future.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Move back to florida I guess. My family owns those car dealerships, so I’ll have a job.”

  “You’re going to sell cars?”

  He laughs at my stricken expression. “Why the hell not? What else am I going to do?”

  “That’s good that you have a plan.” I try to keep my tone light. Both of us sitting there know he’d rather keep dancing.

  “You can come visit me. We’ll drink margaritas on the beach.”

  “I might never want to leave.”

  “Good.” He clasps my hands across the table, and gazes adoringly into my eyes. “You can stay forever and be my pretend wife, just like the old days.”

  “Until you dump me for something tall, dark and handsome.”

  “You’re the one who dumped me for Mikhail,” he points out.

  I grimace. “I did, didn’t I?”

  Gregory pats the tops of my hands. “That’s okay. It’s not your fault he was so threatened by my charming good looks.”

  But it is my fault. I distanced myself from my closest friend just to keep the peace with Mikhail, a decision I regret profusely now. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe how stupid I was.”

  “I forgive you, as long as you promise to never, ever do it again.”

  “I promise.”

  “We should go out tonight and find you a cowboy to take your mind off it. Maybe I’ll find me one too.”

  “No way.”

  “Yes way. He doesn’t even have to be a cowboy, but he can’t be old enough to be your father, and he can’t have a dead wife. Those are the only stipulations.”

  I shake my head vigorously.

  “You can’t sit around and wait forever, Anna.”

  “Not forever,” I agree, but right now I can’t even fathom it.

  He tilts his head to the side. “You really liked him.”

  “I did more than like him.”

  Gregory pouts. “That’s your problem. You’re such a romantic. You actually believe in true love.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Of course not.”

  “That’s not what you were saying when you were with Aaron.”

  “Exactly. When you’re in love, you believe it. When you’re not, you realize it’s all bullshit.”

  I sigh. “That’s so grim and depressing.”

  What’s more grim is my belief that true love is real, and maybe you only get one, but Jack has already found his and lost it.

  What’s truly depressing is the thought that I’m just not a very loveable person to begin with.

  Both times I’ve given my heart to someone, they handed it back bloody and bruised. Even my own mother didn’t want me. She gave me to my grandma to raise before I can remember.

  “We should go out tonight,” I agree. “But no cowboys.”

  Gregory finishes the rest of my muffin, and we take the remainders of our coffees with us to the studio.

  “This place is huge,” Gregory says in a voice loud enough to echo. He tosses his bag aside, and runs along the length of the room and back with his arms outstretched. “How long until your first class?”

  “Hours.”

  “Then go get changed, Princess Aurora.”

  We danced the two lead roles in The Sleeping Beauty for a season. By the time I was hitting my peak, Gregory was starting his gradual decline. We only shared the center of the stage together for a short while, which was a shame because the two of us have such a synchronicity. We were always been able to read each other.

  We anticipate and compensate for what we each lack now too, which is quite a lot between his ankle and my hip. But it’s still a fun, slightly exhausting walk down memory lane.

  Afterwards, as I’m still panting, I lower myself down to lean against the wall carefully. “God, I’m getting old.”

  “Never.” Gregory takes a spot closeby. He twists his ankle in a circle, and rubs across the colorful kinesiology tape he applied this morning. “I almost hate to go out on the nutcruncher, you know?”

  The holiday fan favorite might be loved by many, but most dancers revile it simply because the nightly shows grow so repetitive. Not to mention the elaborate costumes, and stage scenery, and all the complications that arise from performing with so many children. “Then skip it this year,” I say. “Get your ankle taken care of now, and let me look after you. You’ll be recovered in time to take over for me here while I go to prepare for this gala.”

  Gregory gnaws on his bottom lip. “I
can’t believe this is the end.”

  “It might not be. You don’t know,” I say softly, repeating all the same things he said when that time came for me, gently worded lies. Maybe there is some truth to it. He really could go on to dance another season after this surgery for all I know.

  After my accident I cried as much for the end of my career as I did for the end of my relationship. It’s a day every dancer knows will come eventually, but few like to think about it too much ahead of time.

  The door opens. With the bright light streaming in from outside, it’s hard to make out his features, but I recognize the shape of his build immediately. My heart stammers. I pull myself up by the barre attached to the wall as Gregory turns his head to dry his eyes.

  “I didn’t mean to bother you,” Jack says.

  “You’re not,” I say quickly.

  “I just… I wanted to let you know, that necklace turned up in a pawn shop two towns over, and they were able to pull some security footage. They have the guy in custody right now.”

  “That’s good to hear. What’s happens now?”

  “From what I understand, he’s probably going to plead guilty, so you won’t have to testify. Once everything is squared away they’ll release the necklace from evidence, and someone will be in contact, but I thought you’d want to know.”

  I swallow the lump at the back of my throat. “Thank you. That’s a relief.”

  “Yeah, it really is.”

  Jack just stares at me, and I stare right back while I hug my shoulders. Has it really only been five days since we’ve seen each other? It feels like an eternity. He looks tired, like he’s not sleeping well. I haven’t been sleeping well myself lately.

  I just want to hug him, and tell him I take it back. I miss him. I need him in my life. I would rather struggle in purgatory as his friend than be without him altogether.

  Beside me Gregory clears his throat aggressively. Jack and I break our eyes off each other.

  “This is my friend Gregory I was telling you about.”

  They shake hands, and say hello.

  Jack palms the back of his neck, and stares at my mouth. I realize I’m biting my lip as I hold my breath.

  “I just thought you’d want to know,” Jack says again.

  “Thank you for coming to tell me.”

  He nods curtly, and turns to go. “Goodbye, Anna.”

  “Bye, Jack,” I mumble breathlessly.

  Then he’s gone, and I’m left staring at the empty spot in front of me.

  “Shit,” Gregory says. “He looked like he wanted to rip your clothes off, and take you right here.”

  I huff. “Yeah. Well, he didn’t.”

  “Probably because I’m here. Go after him, Anna. I can make myself scarce.”

  “He’s working, and… I’m done chasing after him. If he wants me, he can pick up the phone.”

  And all afternoon, and all evening I kept waiting for the phone to ring, but it never did. Later that night, out at a bar with Gregory, Laura, and a few of her other friends, I rubbed my palm over my phone like it was a magic lamp.

  If a genie really did pop out, I wouldn’t require three wishes. Just one.

  Gregory plucked my phone up from the table, and cradled it to his chest. “Stop.”

  “Maybe I should call him.”

  “No, you definitely should not. You’re wasted.”

  Laura giggles. “You really are. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this drunk before.”

  “I’m making up for wasted time.” I stare around the dimly lit, grungy bar. “Why did we come to this place? We should go somewhere people are dancing, and living.”

  “I’ll dance with you,” Gregory offers.

  “No one else is dancing, and listen to this music. It’s awful.” I wave my hand through the air. “We should go somewhere else. Somewhere people are alive, and having fun. Somewhere they know how to make a decent Mojito.” I shake my glass for emphasis. “Remember when we went salsa dancing, Greggy? We should go do that.”

  “Good luck finding salsa dancing around these parts,” Laura says.

  “Exactly! That’s my point.” I slurp noisily through my straw, but it’s mostly ice remaining. “Why did I ever come to this godforsaken town?”

  Laura pouts. “I thought you liked it here.”

  I laugh bitterly. “Yeah, it’s great. I haven’t even been here four months, and I’ve already been attacked, and dumped.” I turn to face Gregory. “Maybe I’ll move to florida with you. I can sell cars too, or something. I can sell things, or-”

  “Dumped?” Laura frowns. “What happened with Jack?”

  “We’re on a break. I guess it’s a permanent break. If someone says don’t wait for me, that’s pretty much a big fuck off, right?”

  Laura’s mouth hangs open. “But you two were so happy. I thought you were perfect together.”

  I shrug, and swirl the ice in my glass around. Were we happy? He made me happier than I could remember being in… ever. I thought I made him happy too, but I guess I wasn’t enough. “What was she like? You knew her, didn’t you?” I’m drunk enough that this seems reasonable to ask, although even in my current state, I realize the jealousy and bitterness I feel is ugly. “You grew up here too. You must have known Claire.”

  “That’s what this is about?”

  I shrug again. “I guess it is.”

  Laura looks a little uncomfortable, like maybe she’d rather not put herself in the middle. That’s what I think at first, but before long I realize she just wants to spare me the truth. Claire wasn’t just a girl he’d known growing up. They were inseparable. They were always together.

  Claire was the girl next door who transitioned seamlessly from friend, to girlfriend, to wife. And she died when Sarah was born, something he had never told me specifically.

  I’m starting to realize how little Jack has told me. How much he’s withheld.

  “That’s so sad,” Gregory says from beside me. “How old is his daughter?”

  “She’s six,” I answer.

  There’s a silent lull as that sinks in.

  If he hasn’t been able to move on in that length of time, maybe he really never will. That’s why he doesn’t want me to wait.

  “Are you about ready to get out of here?” I ask Gregory.

  He is, and he calls for an Uber while I slide on my coat, and try to hold back the tears stinging my eyes.

  Jack warned me from the beginning he might not be ready. Gregory warned me he had a lot of baggage, but I didn’t listen. Why didn’t I listen? I could’ve saved myself this heartbreak. God, this hurts.

  “How can I compete with that?” I sob miserably when we are finally alone. “She was his first… everything.”

  My mind flashes back to the first boy I held hands with. My first kiss. My first time. My first love. Claire was all those things to him.

  She really was his everything.

  “Anna, you’re not competing with anyone. You don’t have to.”

  And that’s Gregory’s answer. Move on. Find a new cowboy. Let Jack rot in misery. He’s too messy and complicated, and I’m too amazing to settle.

  This little pep talk has worked well enough for me in the past, and I’ve given him the same speil a time or two, but this feels different.

  Jack is different. I feel different when I’m with him.

  “Haven’t you ever met someone who was worth hanging on for?”

  Gregory’s face crumples. He’s drunk too, and we are both emotional, weepy messes when we overindulge. “Yeah, and I left him to move to New York. So I guess he wasn’t really worth hanging around for. Or I wasn’t worth moving for.”

  “What’s he doing now?”

  “The last time I Facebook stalked him, he was married. They have dogs, and a Land Rover.”

  Suddenly we’re both laughing and crying at the same time. “God, we’re pathetic.”

  “We really are.” Gregory cradles the cat we picked out together like a baby.
“But Princess adores us.”

  “She does, and you’re not a dog person anyways. You’re better off.”

  “Exactly.” But there is absolutely no conviction in his voice. Gregory rests his calf over the opposite knee and rubs his ankle abscently. Ballet was his boyfriend too, the one he poured all his love and devotion into, and look what he got for it? A bum ankle, and a future filled with selling used cars.

  You give ballet everything, and what you get in return is broken.

  Maybe Jack will be like that too. I already feel a little broken for the time we’ve spent together.

  Chapter 26

  Jack

  Every night I am plagued by bizarre dreams, some involving Claire, some Anna, sometimes both. In one Claire and I traverse a challenging climb for what feels like an eternity. At the top she’s waiting for me, wearing nothing but my old shirt. She takes me by the hand and walks me down the center row of her mother’s church. The church we got married in. The church where her funeral service was held.

  It’s not the day of our wedding. There is a casket surrounded by floral arrangements up front. I don’t want to look, but Claire prods me to face it again.

  It’s not Claire inside this time, or even my father. It’s Anna dressed in white lace. Her lips are painted a vivid red shade, and her hair is fanned around her in soft waves.

  “She could be sleeping,” Claire says. “She looks so peaceful.”

  When I ask my therapist if dreams like these mean anything, she laughs a little, and shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t personally subscribe to the notion that they do, but there are whole schools of thought on dream interpretation. I had a dream that I was swimming deep in the ocean a few night ago. According to some people, that signifies being overwhelmed and wanting to return to the safety of the womb. But I had just watched Finding Nemo that evening with my kids, so I figure it probably had more to do with that.”

  This is why I like Hailey, she’s not too stuffy or serious, although I’ve been searching for a reason to deem her a quack for weeks now. She’s barely older than me, and although she’s pleasant enough, and seems to know what she’s talking about, I still feel funny about this whole thing. And so far it hasn’t done a whole lot of good that I can tell.

 

‹ Prev