“Very clever. I agree. I wanted to pick a number and they said I had to be 00.”
“No options, huh?”
Kandace shook her head.
Noel sat on the adjacent chair and handed a gift bag to her. “For you.”
She accepted the black bag with silver tissue paper, checked out the contents. Makeup. Water bottle. Granola bars. NLCS ball cap, which fit perfectly. She wore it backwards and admired her ensemble, finished with eye black.
“Say, I got your last text. Sorry for not getting back to you right away. I’d been driving.” Kandace sat down, mentally brought back to Friday night, when she’d called Noel after taking flak from Rachelle about her father—Kandace had been taken aback by Rachelle’s opinion, but now such criticism felt like a serenade. Then after a fight with her father, she texted Noel about dealing with family as a dancer. Kandace shrugged. “We can talk now. I’ve got time.”
“I totally understand. It’s always better to stay safe. I’ve been praying for you and your family situation.” Noel paused a beat. “I’m guessing by your message you were able to find your dad?”
Kandace felt saddened and confined. When she didn’t respond, Noel continued, “Well, I’ll keep praying.”
Kandace twisted her lips and sat forward. “I found him. And it was wonderful and stressful and in the end, kind of awful and I wish I hadn’t even tried.” She leaned back and watched the buzzing backstage with dancers and managers moving about, which felt both energizing and nostalgic, like a homecoming. “I’d thought he was in danger. Took off right away to find him when I couldn’t reach him on the phone. And when I got to him at last, he got all irritated, and said I was delusional. And he wasn’t coming home at all. I’m not so sure he was happy to see me, which really stings. And makes me feel so stupid. Crazy, right? Sounds like he won’t ever go home again. Of course, he blew up about dancing, so I left.”
Noel frowned. “I’m sorry. Can I ask you how he found out you started dancing?”
Kandace told Noel about their lovely seaside dinner turned south by their conversation. He had called late on Sunday when she was on the road out of town which Kandace ignored. Not again after that.
“So, how do you feel about your father now?” Noel asked.
“I don’t care if I see him, because I’m tired of being hurt and getting my expectations up about him and getting let down. I’m done. It’s bad enough that he won’t come home. Even worse, I think he’s poisoning my mother against me. Which is way worse than his total absence. He’s got his own opinion about how the rest of us live but he’s not around to do a thing about it.” Kandace shrugged. “And it’s not like he’s coming home, if ever, so why does he care what I do?”
“You do have to concede that your father has a point.”
“How?”
“You’re an adult, but he’s still your father. And even though he’s away, he’s still that authority. But realize he’s trying to protect you. Maybe because of what has happened, he will come home, don’t you think?”
Kandace made a face. “I don’t think he will. Ever. No way. For any reason. Tell you the truth, he got burned out on responsibilities and getting told what to do, getting pushed around. Then, once Mom got hurt, that was the last straw.”
Noel blinked quickly, then said, “I know how that works out. Sad. Very sad, Autumn. So, if I can change the topic, some of the girls were saying you and April went to Vegas?”
Kandace brightened, reiterating the Vegas trip, buying the new car, then driving out to LA. They chatted about the VW and the trip back to St. Louis.
“Are you heading back home soon?” Noel asked.
“I don’t know yet. It’s easier if I stay, that way I could go to school here and keep dancing.”
“What about your friends, your mom?”
“I don’t know how to go home and I can’t believe I’m even saying that. My sisters finding out I’m dancing scares me and they’re too young to understand—I don’t want to expose them before they’re ready. And my friends, I’ve no clue how they would handle it.”
“That does make sense. You’re trying to be responsible. They’re what, thirteen and fifteen?”
“Yeah. And very innocent.”
Noel tightened her lips, trying to suppress a smile. “I’ll bet your sisters know more than you think. And I can understand it’s hard on your dad. My father was my reason for moving out and supporting myself. And he needed to change. So, we’re sort of the same in that way.”
“We are,” Kandace said, pausing a moment. “I feel bad for my mom. It’s like, I want to help her, she needs me. But I hate feeling like my dad is sabotaging my one supportive and loving parent. I don’t have to be the perfect good girl to earn her love, and my dad doesn’t get that.”
“I’m sure he understands, but at the same time, I don’t think any parent, no matter what, is ever truly comfortable with earning a living this way.”
“But you were a dancer. Doesn’t the judgement you get make you sick? Like we’re lesser people? If he wants to judge me, he can come home for that.”
“While I understand your point, my question is, what if your dad does come home? How would that make you feel?”
“Terrible,” Kandace said, and was surprised at her own voice saying that so quickly, so defiantly.
“Really? I think you’d feel differently if that happened, but I understand your position, because you’ve been hurt and disappointed for so long. Giving up is the easiest path. I’ve been there.”
Kandace sat awhile, quiet. “How do you move past people judging you for dancing?”
“Love people where they are. It’s what you want your friends and family to do for you, right? So, do that for them. If your friends and family love you, they’ll love you not because of your job. And I believe that anyone being honest about this line of work knows it’s so very temporary.”
“I’ll need money to get through school. When I’m done with college, then I'm done.”
Noel nodded. “Keep in mind that dancing is temporary. Your friends, family, are permanent. Don’t burn bridges. Accept they won’t like your choice but work hard at loving them when they are mad at you. I know that’s hard. That’s my advice.”
Kandace was called to the first private party. Upstairs. Five minutes. She bid Noel goodbye with a hug and a promise to keep in touch.
The passionate first party tipped well. April danced with Kandace in tandem with a leggy redhead from another club.
By night’s end, they had cleared over ten thousand each for the shift—thanks to private parties celebrating the Giants’ NLCS series win. They drove home after four am and collapsed on the apartment floor in mania.
Wednesday came and went and Kandace couldn’t decide about her future. Ginger remained in rehab, due for two more weeks of treatment. She’d been feeling well enough to do normal things, or so she said. Kandace had called the insurance company and learned they were fighting all of her mother’s expenses, including the opioid overdose resulting in an ER trip.
Coral and Amelia were happy to FaceTime and talk about adventures; they didn’t ask about their father and she wondered how much of the truth they knew.
Kandace called Kyle and had to leave a message, though she figured his mother would screen his phone. She half expected that her number would be blocked.
Her dad hadn’t called again. He talked with Ginger every day, mostly to discuss matters at home, rehab, recovery time and of course, their eldest daughter turned exotic dancer. Ginger told Kandace all that they discussed, which made matters worse. Was he planning to come home? Ginger didn’t think so and had been afraid to press, partly because she knew if he came home, it would momentarily excite his daughters just to disappoint them again shortly thereafter—and Kandace had very mixed feelings.
April sat on the poorly lit living room futon, nudged Kandace, the television on for background noise. “Did you enroll in classes yet?”
Kandace sat still a mome
nt, then sighed. “I can’t decide. I mean, I want to stay in St. Louis, dance on the weekends, maybe Tuesday nights. If I’m back in Pitt, I’ll go to Carnegie, I think, because it’s close enough that I could live at home, but I don’t have as much scholarship money there. University of Pennsylvania is in Philly, so I’ll have to live on campus, which is really expensive, and I’ll have to stay at a hotel on weekends to dance, because no way am I driving back and forth.”
“Philly is closer to the coast, at least. The Atlantic City sister club is pretty sweet. Not as good as Vegas, but their revenue beats The Palace most months. I could be talked into that action.”
“Thanks for not pressuring me. You’ve got two months left on your lease, I guess. So, no rush.” Kandace grabbed her favorite pillow, tattered at the edges, and buried her face in it. “I don’t know what to do.”
“What if your dad came home?”
“Oh, no. Not you too.” Kandace pulled the pillow away from her face. “That would be short lived, on the horribly slim chance it ever happened. And he wants nothing to do with me if I’m still dancing.”
“Dancing pays for college. What does he expect? Should you sit around all your life, waiting on him?”
“I don’t care anymore. I’m tired of trying to make him happy.”
“When’s your mom get out of rehab?”
“Maybe next week. It’s tight for winter classes registration. November 10th feels like tomorrow.”
April seemed amused. “You know you’re going home for your mom. C’mon. She’s getting out of rehab, you’ll go home and help at least get her settled in. By then, you’ll have to make up your mind.”
Kandace closed her eyes a long moment. “What will you do?”
“Depends on you. If you want to go to Philly, I’ll work it out. If you’re picking Pittsburgh, that’s gonna be tough, because it means commuting to a club and weekends only isn’t enough income.”
Kandace sat silently for awhile, before saying, “I’ve got to make up my mind and I don’t want to.”
“You’re just afraid of making the wrong choice. Same as anybody else.”
“Yeah, so how do I know which is the right one?”
“Just do what I want and stay here.”
Kandace smirked back. “But that makes me the same as my dad, don’t you think?”
“Come again?”
“If I stay away for school, for work, then I’m not supporting my mom and that feels like what my dad did.”
“So, how does going to college and having a job make you like your father? He abandoned his family, if I can say that without starting a war.”
Kandace nodded and didn’t say anything else.
Two weeks of dancing and good income were a whirlwind. She met people away from the club but didn’t feel like she had made real friends. She heard local bands and tried local foods. She learned her way around and felt comfortable.
But home felt increasingly good, thinking fondly of places she had known all her life. Kandace missed her girls back at home, though flawed and far from perfect. But mostly, she thought of her mother and her sisters—FaceTime helped, but it wasn’t the same as sharing the same air with them, the same home, the same sofa, the same dinner table. She was afraid of their judgement, but she was more afraid of missing out on being with them.
On the second week of November, Kandace drove her still unnamed VW through familiar neighborhoods, down side streets she had dreamt of, past houses she wasn’t sure existed anymore until she saw them in person again—she had to be certain.
At the Tutor, she immersed in the life she left behind. Longing for her innocent past, as though her childhood had ended less than a month ago when she first danced at The Palace. Or perhaps when she got into Kyle’s car. She released the past and at the same time, accepted her new and unknown future, which had arrived so suddenly.
She sorted through the mail, paying past due bills one at a time on her new laptop computer she splurged on at Apple; a need for college she had great use for already, applying for as many scholarships and grants as possible.
Kandace reminisced while she cleaned the house, feeling like the old had collided with new—having tasted and enjoyed fine things, she saw her former home not in a bad way, just old and gentle, frail and cherished.
She had hardly traveled—but she couldn’t wait to experience more places.
Markus grinned from ear to ear when she traipsed down the stairs to his basement and not because she had brought him a fine bag of coffee beans from St. Louis.
“Well, well. It’s about time you showed up,” he said, spinning in his chair. “I thought you might come by to get all the details I couldn’t tell you on air.”
“You said you wouldn’t tell me any other way, so here I am,” Kandace said, setting the one pound coffee bag on his cluttered desk. “After all that, what did you discover? And how did you find my dad, all of a sudden?”
She thought about telling him she knew that he had contact with her father which he neglected to mention––but she thought better of it. Brining up the past could do no good. Not anymore.
He typed at the keyboard casually, then hit a final keystroke with finesse. “When your dad turned up under the alias Raymond Coram, coming through customs out of Shanghai, everything blew up. We had a live passport for him and a live camera shot from the airport to back it up.”
“A name made the difference?”
“Yeah, just like new clothes make all the difference for you. Lookin’ nice there. You must have gotten a wardrobe update courtesy of Dear Dad.”
He didn’t know? Maybe he didn’t dig into what I was doing.
“Oh. Thanks,” Kandace said, smoothing down her jeans and fitted sweater from her Palace clothing haul. “So, what did you find out? Or do I not even want to know?”
Markus sipped his drink from a straw. “Well, crazy thing is, as I’m sure you know, your dad and Sean Clayton go back almost twenty years. Some military time. A project together, working for one of the big defense contractors. Lockheed, I think. Anyway, they were on the same team, field-testing new equipment. After that job, they were working together several times on different contracts. At least five more, that I’ve found.”
“I wish someone would have told me all Clayton wanted was a reunion with Dad. Because he left immediately after I arrived. Clayton and Dad were real chummy.”
“Yes and no. Clayton was there to recruit your dad for a special assignment. You see, your dad’s contract was ending. And companies compete for guys like your dad, because only so many people with their expertise exist.”
“Recruiting. That’s why he came to my house? But why all the threats?”
Markus shrugged. “I could be wrong, but maybe Clayton believed there was a danger. Perhaps a data breach occurred and your father was implicated. That’s a total guess, but a reasonable one. Could have been panicking and when your Dad wasn’t home, he went to Seattle on his next assignment, to find someone else.”
“And why not just say so?”
Markus shrugged. “Confidentiality. Ego. Take your pick.”
“So, in short, my father and Clayton worked together doing secret projects I can’t know about. That about it? Because at this point, I’m over him.”
Markus tilted his head, paused. “Tell me, how does one get over their parent?”
“Sorry. I’m tired of being obsessed with him coming home. Because he’s not going to. Ever. Mom said he signed a new two-year deal, so he’s going work all the time for the forever future.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else I can say.”
“Thanks for your help. I’d have been totally lost without you.”
“Sure. Sorry the results weren’t better. And I’ve been bored since we found your father, you know. It’s like… a beautiful let down. The end. I hate it. I mean, how often do I get to find a CIA consultant? A special forces guy?”
“You’ll find another world to conquer, I’m positive. Build th
e next Minecraft and call me when you move to the Bay Area.”
“Hey! I got some dirt on your Deidra Ryals, if you want it. It’s pretty sick. Looks like a home video.”
Kandace tilted her head at him. As long as it’s not involving me, we’re okay. “I’m better off not knowing.”
“I’m just messing with you. I looked for an hour or two and couldn’t find anything. I’m so bored.”
Kandace hung out with Markus and talked about nothing, about plans, about being lost in transition after high school. She told him she had nearly decided on a college and he was happy to know she was moving onward with her life.
An hour later, Kandace felt giddy and terrified, pushing through the doors of her dance studio. Yvonne, who had been all too understanding and filled in for the beginner class which Kandace had left vacated, was elated to see her. They were able to talk about the inevitable future. Would she stay in town and continue teaching? Just for a couple weeks, until her mother got settled in—any income was better than nothing.
Seeing familiar faces, she remembered what she missed most about home. And sharing with them about her travels out west, omitting the ugly subjects, felt refreshing. Everyone was chatty and interested in Kandace’s travels. She stayed awhile, taught an evening class and though she felt at ease in the role of her former life, her experience lacked an emotional connection like it once held.
On leaving the studio around six that evening, Pittsburgh already felt like it was behind her. Or she had already left it.
She had changed. Pittsburgh stayed the same.
Walking the sidewalk listlessly, warm coffee in hand, she let her mind wander. She couldn’t afford college if she didn’t dance at a club, at least on weekends. She couldn’t imagine how her friends would accept her in their circle if they knew her real job.
Kandace spent two days considering her living and college options, but in the end, she knew that Washington University in St. Louis made the most sense—a solid scholarship offer and she could afford the shortfall, plus the books and lab fees. Rooming with April was less expensive than campus housing. Plus, The Palace was close to both her college and apartment, saving on travel and hotel costs. All together, she couldn’t beat St. Louis, and she factored in flying to Vegas several times per year.
Goodbye, Good Girl Page 29