Tremor

by Tonya Plank

  I knocked on her office door. It was already open, but she was hard at work on her computer so I didn’t want to startle her by just walking in.

  “Oh hi, Belle,” she said looking up. “Would one o’clock be okay? I’m a little busy with something now.”

  I had one eleven o’clock private lesson with Jones, a retired older man. And then nothing until my coaching with Drew and Greta at two. “If it’s not going to take a long time. I have a coaching with Drew at two.”

  “It definitely shouldn’t take that long,” she said with a smile.

  “Okay, see you then.”

  I changed and walked upstairs to the private lesson room. I had about a half an hour until Jones arrived, so I used the barre in the back studio to stretch and practice my Latin basics. Drew wasn’t even around—no one was this early—and still, my hand began to tremble. I had to get over this. I had to get in to see the doctor again. My student base was beginning to dwindle. Almost all the male Latin students were with either Bronislava, the other Latin teacher, or had transferred to another studio to take private lessons with Xenia, a Blackpool finalist. It was a lot harder generally for female teachers to attract students, because not as many men took dance classes as women—and certainly not private lessons. But it was doubly hard for me as a Latin dance teacher since there were a plethora of others in this city, and I’d lost all of my old showdance students who didn’t want to dance Latin. I needed to figure something else out, because I couldn’t make ends meet for much longer on only group classes and the few performances Drew and I did during the year. We were still a new couple so we didn’t get many well-paying gigs. With Rory and Sasha not competing at Blackpool this year, if we won or came in second, it would help our status immensely. But that wasn’t going to happen with my tremor.

  Jones came storming through the door early, as usual.

  “Hey sweetheart, how ya doing?” he said, giving me a cheeky kiss with way too much tongue and patting me on the shoulder, quite close to my breast. I knew he wanted to be more than teacher/student, and I was very thankful to Alessia for implementing the non-fraternizing policy at the school. It was mainly to protect people—often female teachers—from the likes of male students—particularly the rich and powerful, like Jones—who wanted to take advantage of them.

  “Fine, thank you. And you?”

  “Always so polite. That’s what I love about you, hon.” He squeezed my arm and this time his finger did gently press against my right breast.

  Jones had always been a little this way but after Willem passed, he got worse, and was really starting to make me feel uncomfortable. I didn’t want to be a whiner, so I didn’t say anything to Alessia. Plus, I really needed students. And, of course, he took a lot of lessons and brought a lot of money into the studio.

  We were training for an upcoming local competition. We never placed that well, since he often spent our lessons trying to touch me “accidentally” in various places instead of listening to my instruction. But he was an older man with a lot of money to burn, so I guess he didn’t care that much. I wondered briefly if that was what Alessia wanted to talk to me about.

  Still, I tried my hardest to teach him. We began, and he placed his hand very close to my behind, instead of on my back shoulder blade. I moved his hand up, reminding him, once again, that the judges would count down for that. He cackled, as usual.

  From the get-go, my tremor was ridiculous with him.

  “Honey, honey, honey, do I do that to you?” he said at one point, grabbing my arm, gently but firmly, and holding it still. It didn’t stop the trembling at all, but made it more internal, like it was speeding through my insides now, aiming toward my heart.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my arm free.

  “Don’t be sorry, baby. I just want to know how to help you.”

  “I think I’m still just nervous because of Blackpool, you know,” I said, trying to laugh it off.

  “I know, but, darling, that mishap was a while ago now. And it’s not getting any better. You want me to get you in to see my doctor? I’ll pay. I know they don’t pay you too well here.”

  “No, no, no thank you. That’s kind of you, but I have my own.” That’s all I needed—something I’d owe him for.

  “Well, he’s not helping you too much.” He snickered.

  I swallowed and tried to smile. “She said it’ll just take some time. That I have to be patient. So I ask that you be, too. I’m working on it.” I tried to sound as assured as I could.

  He reached for my hand, pulled it up to him, and kissed the back of it. It would have been a nice gesture if it wasn’t from him. My hand now shook worse than ever, and he dropped it gently, laughing and shaking his head.

  * * *

  I walked to Alessia’s office, half wondering if that was going to be what this was about, that students were complaining that I couldn’t get my act together with the tremor. The door was open. But when I entered, I saw none other than Jett sitting in one of the chairs facing hers. What was he doing here?

  “Hi Belle, come in,” Alessia said, warmly, extending her hand toward the vacant chair next to Jett.

  I eyed him as I sat down. He smiled up at me, dimples pronounced, with a kind of puppy dog pleading in his eyes. “Hey, Belle.”

  I made a mental note to correct him. Only my very good friends and my boss called me that. I hardly knew him. And I certainly didn’t consider him a very good friend. But I didn’t want to get pissy in front of Alessia.

  “Actually, before you sit, can you close the door? I’m sorry, I should have told you right after you walked in.”

  “No problem,” I said. Why did we need privacy? What in the world was going on here?

  I sat again, taking a deep breath.

  “It’s nothing bad, Belle.” Alessia laughed. “It’s good, all good. I promise!”

  I swallowed and forced myself to smile. Both my hands were shaking now though. I placed them between my knees hoping they wouldn’t be as noticeable that way.

  “So, Jett has a proposal he wants to make,” Alessia said. “He made it to me earlier today, but I needed to have you here, because it involves you.”

  What? I looked at him. He gave me a loopy, pleading smile. More puppy dog eyes.

  “Why don’t you tell her, Jett.” Alessia gushed at him. Of course he’d won her over. He won over every female he ever looked at. Except for me.

  “Well, here’s the thing. I’m teaching this group class, a performance arts class...” His chocolaty brown eyes lit up with excitement. He sat up in his chair, making Alessia outright bounce in hers. “They’re such dedicated students!”

  I know, I wanted to say. They were once mine. But I said nothing. Instead I just looked down. He had what I’d had; what I no longer had, and no longer wanted.

  “And they’re so dedicated, they want to start a performance team. Like, there’s some kind of mambo team here, apparently? I don’t know since I’m new—”

  Yes, you are new and you don’t know anything, I wanted to say but, again, didn’t.

  “And they want to form a similar team but for showdance, which will perform for the studio and maybe some nearby competitions!”

  I couldn’t look straight at him now but I knew his face was about to burst with excitement. I could hear it in his voice. I knew he wanted me to co-coach and I wanted to smack him.

  “I don’t understand,” I lied.

  “What…don’t you understand?”

  “I’m happy for you, Jett. But what does this have to do with me?”

  “Oh, that’s the thing. They all love you; they think you’re a goddess. And they want you to co-lead the team, and dance on the team, as…my partner.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “I haven’t figured all the numbers out yet,” Alessia said. “But of course they would pay the team rate instead of the class rate, which, since there are performances involved, is much higher. And you’d also get paid the class rate if you helped wi
th the regular class. You’d also get paid extra for each performance. Jett mentioned he has some private lesson students who’d like to work with both of you. If that happens, you’d get paid the private lesson rate as well. So, this would be a lot more money for you, Belle. A lot. How does all of that sound?”

  Her voice, in contrast to Jett’s, was all business, all seriousness. She was trying to entice me with money. And I did need the money. I really did. But I so didn’t want to return to showdance. I didn’t know if I could. I really didn’t. My hands were shaking so badly, I literally had to lift myself off my seat and slide them underneath my thighs.

  I glanced at Jett. By the look in his eyes, you’d think he was asking me to save his very life.

  I didn’t even know if I could do this with someone I liked, let alone him.

  “Just think about it, Belle, okay? Please,” he said. “I know Belinda would be willing to do it too.”

  “But of course they want you, Belle,” Alessia said.

  “And I do too,” Jett said softly. I could see him out of the corner of my eye glancing at my hands.

  “Why?” I shot out. You know I’m a freak right now, I wanted to say.

  “Because you’re the best!” Alessia laughed.

  I blinked again and looked back at Alessia. “Well, what do you say?”

  No, is what I meant to say, but somehow I heard the words, “I’ll think about it,” coming out of my mouth instead.

  They both interpreted this in the affirmative though. “Excellent!” Alessia said.

  “Oh thank you.” Jett reached for my hands, which I didn’t give to him.

  If I danced with Jett as the team’s centerpiece, I couldn’t do any difficult tricks with the tremor. That was for sure. Not to mention, I couldn’t do any serious showdancing with anyone other than Willem. It would be like cheating on him in death. Alessia knew that’s why I switched to Latin. At least I thought she did. Maybe she’d honestly never noticed the tremor. If I did this—and it was a big if—I couldn’t dance a regular showdance. It would be a student performance piece. That would be okay. That wasn’t dishonoring Willem, and easier on-the-floor moves wouldn’t be problematic with the tremor.

  * * *

  As I practiced with Drew, I forced myself to ignore the shaking and proceed as if it wasn’t happening. Drew and Greta did the same. Jett was having a private lesson with Judy and Paolo. I could see out of the corner of my eye he wore a huge smile, as if he’d won something. He glanced at me a few times. I guess I’d basically given him and Alessia the go-ahead on the team.

  I forced myself to ignore them when they began practicing fish dives again. I was determined not to help them this time, at least right now. But I couldn’t help but notice in my periphery how wrong they looked, how much better I could make them, how well I could do the trick my frigging self—or could have, at one point in my life. And I couldn’t stop thinking how much I needed the money.

  Chapter 13

  Jett

  I knew Arabelle would go for the team idea. I had my worries after lunch but I knew deep down she wanted it, and needed it. Alessia’s little speech had made clear how much she needed the money. But I knew she needed more than just money. She needed to regain her passion again, to do what she excelled at like no one else, and what she loved with all her heart.

  So, the next day when I had Kendra and Josie again for a private, we eyed her repeatedly while she worked with Drew and the coach. I’d let on to them that the team was probably going to be a go, though I didn’t say Arabelle would be involved. I couldn’t help it; I was too excited, as were they. It really impressed me how hard those two were working—Kendra and Josie, I mean. Josie could already hold her back up for several seconds while lying on the floor. They’d learned to practice that only a few days ago. Kendra had been working out with large weights, bending her knees to lift so she’d have lifting with her legs, not her back, in her muscle memory. She even showed me. I commended them as loudly as I could on how awesome they and the team were going to be with all the effort everyone was putting into it.

  “It’s just a shame you can’t dance on the team yourself and lead us with a great team captain,” Kendra boomed, her voice likely echoing all the way down to the Ethiopian restaurant on the first floor.

  “Yeah, like the best show dancer in the world,” Josie echoed, her voice not as loud as Kendra’s but still bellowing throughout the entire room.

  Okay, you guys, now we’re overdoing it a bit, I thought. I glanced at Arabelle. Drew was grinning, as was the coach. Arabelle was the only one who looked pissed, her mouth a straight line. She pretended not to notice me and didn’t glance back. She just kept on doing her routine with Drew, albeit with very bad trembling.

  After I was finished with Kendra and Josie, I turned back to Arabelle before leaving the room. She was looking right at me, hands on hips. She pointed to the clock and held up three fingers, then pointed down, as if toward Alessia’s office. Amazing that I totally understood what she was saying. I nodded, and couldn’t help but grin broadly. I knew I’d won.

  * * *

  And I was right. I walked into Alessia’s office at three on the dot. Arabelle wasn’t there yet.

  “Sit down.” Alessia held her hand toward the chair closest to her.

  “So?” I said, sitting.

  “I don’t know yet. I guess we’ll find out.”

  Arabelle sauntered in about three minutes after three. “Sorry. Kind of lost track of time while practicing with Drew.” She enunciated Drew’s name, as if to indicate he was her real partner.

  “No worries.” Alessia extended her hand out to the seat next to me. Arabelle looked at me as if I were diseased, then sat very hesitantly.

  Sheesh.

  “Well?” Alessia asked when no one spoke.

  “Okay, I’ll do it,” Arabelle said after a several-second pause. “But only with a couple conditions. First, I’m not doing anything too risky. I’m done with that. No crazy overhead lifts or anything. I don’t think the students are ready for that, and it makes me too nervous to try things on them that I…don’t want to do myself. I’m just…not into that anymore.”

  She breathed deeply after this, as if that was really hard to get out. Alessia and I looked at each other. I nodded slowly. It sounded like she was considering dancing herself, if we promised not to do anything she “didn’t want to do herself,” as she’d put it.

  Of course, I knew it would be the best if we could do just such lifts, making the choreography as theatrical as we could. It would be good for both scores and pleasing and challenging the students. Well, Arabelle may need some working on to come around. The tremor was obviously holding her back. But I had plans to help her in that regard—hopefully, cure her.

  “Also,” Arabelle continued, after another breath. “I will dance with Jett but only as the centerpiece of the team, and only if my first demand is met. I most certainly will not dance with him outside of the team.” She looked not at me, but at the floor.

  “Totally understood,” Alessia said. “I think this is going to be very popular, go very far. Just to make sure, you will commit for three hours a week with the group, and if individual students want more of you and Jett together, you’re available, right, Arabelle?”

  Still looking down, she nodded. “If it’s for the team, then yes.”

  “Great!”Alessia said. “I really think this is going to be a wonderful thing for the studio, you guys. Thank you so much for trying! I’ve been thinking about competitions. There’s one coming up in Orange County that the studio always goes to and they take showdance entries. And there’s one in Las Vegas—”

  I could sense nervous energy coming at me from Arabelle’s chair.

  “Yeah, we’ll really think it over and plan,” I piped up, cutting Alessia off. “Hopefully the team will be up for all that soon. I really think they will be with the progress I see the individual students making in my class, and in my private lessons.”

&nb
sp; “Excellent. For now, you’ll commit to performing at the next studio party,” Alessia said, more than asked. I had to admire her for that—just telling you what she wanted instead of asking. Just like Veronique. “You know, to get them used to being before an audience, and, you know, let the other students know about it in case they want to join.”

  I nodded. “We’ll get something together, even if it’s rudimentary.”

  Arabelle looked down, but nodded.

  “Excellent,” Alessia said. “I’ll let your students know, and will put the word out in case anyone else wants to join.”

  Arabelle got up to leave, still looking down.

  “Arabelle?” Alessia said before she left. Arabelle turned to her. “Thank you, honey. I really appreciate your effort.” Alessia’s wide, serious eyes indicated she wholly meant it. Arabelle stared hard for a few seconds then blinked. When she opened her eyes again I could see some tears in the crevices. She took a breath, nodded again, and was out.

  “Thank you,” I said to Alessia, then ran after Arabelle.

  “Hey, hey!” I called out to her.

  She turned around, squinting at me. “I meant what I said. This is it. Only for the team. Nothing more,” she spat and turned back around.

  “Yes, I know.”

  She turned to me again. “Oh, and one more thing. No one calls me Belle except close friends. I’m Arabelle to everyone else. Including you.”

  Ah, okay. Ouch. But my ego wasn’t really bruised. She was just trying to set boundaries after I got my way with the team—boundaries that wouldn’t last for long. At least I hoped not. “Okay, Arabelle,” I said, enunciating the first syllable. “Belle Arabelle. By which, I just mean pretty Arabelle. Just like all of your other fans.”

  She opened her mouth but no words came out. Then she shook her head and walked off. I could see a tiny smile brightening the corners of her face though.