Gabriel whirls by with his partner, and together they look out across the dance floor with disdain. As they pass, his partner’s skirt rises, revealing graceful legs and accentuating the precision of her technique. Gabriel’s profile and torso look as though they are brushed with snow. Sarah closes her eyes and tries to imagine the perfection of that dance in his arms, the lost moment of naive possibility.
She likes being an observer, feeling a cool distance from her emotions. Caught up in the grace and romance of this last dance, she forgets and even forgives.
Opening her eyes again she is dazzled by the lights, which skip off the walls and dance across the table. She holds up her hands as if to catch the escaping stars. The song is almost over, and soon it will be time to go home. She realizes that it is the days ahead she looks forward to now.
Someone is walking toward her, tall and slim, with a confident stature and gait, his hand outstretched. She hopes he will ask her to finish the last dance, and that he knows the steps, so at the very least the evening will end well.
Chapter 46
Angel
The usual form of asking a lady to dance is, “May I have the pleasure of your hand for the next dance?”
—Rudolph Radestock, The Royal Ball-Room Guide, 1877
The song is “Dos Gardenias,” and in the center of the Ballroom with Maria in his arms, Angel watches her eyes momentarily close, as they always do at the start of a dance. She holds her breath while she finds her center. He waits for her body to relax against his. He senses her stillness. Her familiar gestures.
Particles of light fall on her cheeks like tears, flicker on her shoulders like petals. Her fragrance is like the song, a rain of gardenias. He savors that moment when his cheek first touches hers, and the first fleeting scent of a flower. He closes his eyes for a moment. A whirlwind of brushstrokes depicting an evening sky, the indigo and violet colors of music, dance, and the Ballroom fill Angel’s vision.
Stepping forward, they are alone, part of the music, part of the Milky Way, part of creation.
The answers to the questions he asked himself on the edge of the roof, looking into Harry’s window, are beyond him. They are adrift in the unknowable formation of the universe.
Angel once read in an astronomy book that what you see in the sky, the stars and galaxies, is your past. Therefore it no longer matters. The future is his and Maria’s. For now, nothing matters but this dance, the movement of Maria’s body against his, this moment in time.
Chapter 47
Gabriel
At a party, where all of the guests know each other, it is inexcusable for any man to go home alone, and let the women go home unescorted. It is the gentleman’s duty to see that all of the ladies are properly escorted home. He should escort one or two, or three if necessary.
—V. Persis Dewey, Tips to Dancers, 1918
Gabe—
When you read this, I’m on my way to Paris. Will stay with Bernard and Françoise until I find a place. Need to get back to what really matters to me. I’ve been an ornamental wife. It’s not enough. You once spoke of fire, life, and brilliance. I must find them again. Will be in touch.
—Myra
She’s gone, yet the enclosed, overheated bedroom still reeks of cigarettes. He empties the butt-filled ashtray into the toilet and opens the windows, despite the cold, then sits down on the bed to read the letter again.
He turns on the television. “Stay here with me. Say you’ll love me forever . . . that nothing will ever change.” The black-and-white war romance illuminates the darkened room. “You know I love you, but we only have these few hours together. I must get back to the front.”
Hanging his blazer in his dressing room, breathing in the sweet smell of cedar, he removes his tie and opens the buttons of his shirt. He looks at himself in three-quarter view. There are pouches under his eyes, and he tries to smooth them away with his fingers. Before closing the doors, he runs his hands along his clothes, assuring himself of their order.
In the kitchen, he likes the clear, clinking sound the six ice cubes make in the tall cut-crystal glass as he pours himself a soda. Feeling his way toward his Eames chair in the dark living room, he sinks into its perfect curves and lets out a slow, audible sigh.
He feels nothing, except for the dull pain coming from the torn meniscus in his right knee and a sharp, insistent pain in his lower back. Lately his feet have been swelling after a night of dancing. He needs to pace himself better. He listens to the hissing carbonation and watches the ice dance in the glass. Old and tired, the Ballroom is past its prime. Hopefully Club Paradiso will attract a young, hipper crowd.
He gets up from his chair, forcing the glass balcony door open. Stepping out onto the balcony, he is punished by a wash of noise, the whooshing and honking sounds twenty-six floors below. Every minute or two an airplane heads toward or away from Kennedy Airport, and the balcony vibrates from its thunder. He watches the planes disappear. On the Long Island Expressway, a parade of iridescent dancers undulates like a chorus line. He practices a dance turn, and the sky, studded with stars, spins like the mirrored ball on the Ballroom ceiling. Staring out into the night, he doesn’t want the dance to end.
Epilogue
As I entered the gilded doors
of the Ballroom,
walked down the carpeted staircase,
my heart thrummed to the sounds of violins and bass.
The Latin rhythms touched something in me—something visceral and erotic.
Recognizing familiar love songs with stories of promise,
I believed that in the shadowy splendor
someone waited for me.
Two Corinthian columns, like Greek goddesses
dressed for the ball,
coiffures adorned with acanthus leaves,
reached to embrace an indigo ceiling,
while below, torsos, arms, and legs were a blur of motion.
The spinning mirrored ball exploded the room
with fractured light that
dressed our masquerade.
Ballroom Bibliography
This book is dedicated to all Dancers wishing to know the details of Ballroom Etiquette, and desiring to overcome self-consciousness, uncertainty and embarrassment.
—V. Persis Dewey, Tips to Dancers, 1918
De Valcourt, Robert. The Illustrated Manners Book: A Manual of Good Behavior and Polite Accomplishments. New York: Leland Clay, 1855.
Dewey, V. Persis. Tips to Dancers: Good Manners for Ballroom and Dance Hall. Kenosha, WI, 1918.
Ferrero, Edward. The Art of Dancing, Historically Illustrated, to Which Is Added a Few Hints on Etiquette. New York: Dick & Fitzgerald, 1859.
Hazard, W. P. The Ball-Room Companion: A Handbook for the Ball-Room & Evening Parties. New York: D. Appleton, 1849.
Hill, Thomas E. Evils of the Ball: Etiquette of the Party and Ball. Chicago: Hill Standard, 1883.
Houghton, Walter R., Rules of Etiquette and Home Culture. Rand, McNally & Co., Chicago, 1886.
Howe, Elias. The Pocket Ballroom Prompter. Boston: Oliver Ditson, 1858.
Hughes, Kristine. The Writer’s Guide to Everyday Life in Regency and Victorian England from 1811–1901. Cincinnati: Writer’s Digest, 1998.
Orday, Edith B. The Etiquette of To-day. New York: Sully & Kleintelch, 1918.
Radestock, Rudolph. The Royal Ball-Room Guide: Etiquette of the Drawing-Room. London: Walker & Sons, 1877.
Smiles, Samuel. Happy Homes and the Hearts that Make Them. U. S. Publishing House, Chicago, 1882.
Society for Culinary Arts & Letters. Daily Gullet forums, egullet.org.
Acknowledgments
For the music that inspired—La Revancha del Tango, the debut album of Gotan Project, whose tango heartbeat is at the core of the novel. Gardel, Piazzolla, Sinatra, and Fitzgerald, who understood romance, and Fred and Ginger, who knew the steps.
To those who showed the way—Haystack Mountain School of Crafts, New York’s Writers Voice, Regina McBride
, with her inspirational way to unlock the journey of my characters and to engage the senses.
To those who listened—Eva Baer-Schenkein, Sheila Gordon, and Elsie Blackert, who believed in me from the beginning.
And to those who made it happen. Helped shape Ballroom—Marly Rusoff and Michael Radulescu, indefatigable literary agents (who need to take a little time for tango). Claire Wachtel, senior VP and executive editor at Harper, and certainly the most perceptive and spot-on editor. To Molly Giles, Hannah Wood, and Miranda Ottewell for their wisdom.
To writers, readers, and friends from New York to California who responded to early drafts on my journey to this dream coming true—you’re next!
The Story Behind the Book
As a child, I danced on my father’s feet to the songs of Carlos Gardel and Piazolla, and I think it was then that dance crept into my bones and my being. Looking back, I believe that my family was about lost dreams. Vaudeville had died, along with my father’s legendary dance career, and my mother’s dreams of living a life of privilege were shattered. Dance, tango, yearning, and loss seemed entwined.
Later in life, I came to dance once again in search of my dreams, only to be fooled by the deceptive promise of the gilded ballroom with its Corinthian columns. When the music plays and you are held in a partner’s embrace, and if his lead is strong and you know how to follow, you believe, for that dance, that anything is possible.
In that contained universe of a New York ballroom on Union Square, and in the mournful sounds of tango songs, I searched to find Harry’s, Maria’s, Joseph’s, Sarah’s, and Gabriel’s thoughts and secret dreams; what they longed for. Each believed that someone special was waiting, a partner, one perfect dance, love, or someone to go home with for the night. I wish each of my readers might read Ballroom as I wrote it—to the sounds of tango.
About the Author
ALICE SIMPSON is an accomplished visual artist who has a profound passion for dance. Ballroom is her first novel. She lives in South Pasadena, California.
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Credits
Cover photograph © Phillip Bannister
Author photograph © Jimmy Chou
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
BALLROOM. Copyright © 2014 by Alice Simpson. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
FIRST EDITION
* * *
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Simpson, Alice
Ballroom : a novel / Alice Simpson. —First edition.
pages cm
EPub Edition September 2014 ISBN 9780062323064
ISBN 978-0-06-232303-3 (hardback) —ISBN 978-0-06-232304-0 (paperback)
1. Ballroom dancers—Fiction. 2. Manhattan (New York, N.Y.)—History—20th century—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3619.I56326B35 2014
813’.6—dc23
2014009045
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14 15 16 17 18 OV/RRD 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
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