Chapter 6
Six
Tour jeté: a split leap that turns in the air.
Rudy
Today is going to be a good day. Standing in front of the hall mirror near the ballet school office, I gave myself a little pep talk.
The sounds of the professional dancers finishing their morning class filtered down the hallway.
For once, I wasn’t wearing layers of ill-fitting knitwear and my hair had cooperated. I looked almost professional.
“Are you ready for the school visit?” My mother came up behind me, making me jump. Almost. I was almost a professional, other than the part where everyone kept checking up on me. I had new sympathy for Alexander and how he’d assumed I was spying. Feeling watched was a most unpleasant sensation.
“Yes, just waiting on Alexander to finish class and change.” I turned toward Mom.
She looked festive in a leaf-print skirt and pumpkin-orange sweater.
Seeing her looking spry did my heart good, but I needed her to worry less about me and more about her own schedule. “Are you ready for your coffee date?”
“Of course. It’s just Elaine.” She laughed, another welcome sound.
As much as I didn’t like her bustling up behind me, I was glad she was up to coffee with her old friends like Alexander’s mother.
The two had a long-standing Monday tradition.
Casting a critical eye on herself in the mirror, Mom adjusted her sweater.
“And I’m so glad you convinced Alexander to go with you. ”
“Just Elaine?” Alexander’s mother swept in on a gust of cold air.
She had evidently caught my mother’s reply, but she didn’t seem put out as she wrapped my mother in a quick hug.
Snow seemed more likely by the day, and Elaine was bundled in an elegant black wool coat, red hat, and thick gloves.
“And who convinced Alexander to do what?”
“Rudy has the most marvelous plan to involve the local schools.” Pride shone through my mother’s voice, and I stood a little taller.
This was the tone she usually reserved for bragging on Waylon and Helen, and warmth spread across my chest as she continued, “Today, they’re visiting third and fourth grade classrooms to introduce a unit on ballet and The Nutcracker, which will culminate with all the students coming to a special Friday morning performance the week of the show. ”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” Elaine turned her smile on me. Tall and slim with ash-colored hair and striking blue eyes, she’d gifted Alexander with all her regal genes. “And Alexander is going along? I was under the impression that children gave him hives.”
“It’s not an allergy, Mother.” Alexander groaned as he strode toward us.
He’d changed from his usual dance clothes into crisp gray pants and an ivory cashmere sweater he most certainly hadn’t found in the clearance bin at the thrift store down the block.
He carried a coat over one arm. “I’m sure these elementary schoolers will be far easier than Isabella’s toddler demons. ”
“Isabella has an adorable little family.” My mother was nothing if not loyal to Elaine and her family. “And your mother needs more grandkids.”
“I do.” Elaine seized the opening, bumping my mother’s shoulder with her own. “Margie’s in the lead. Can’t have that.”
Lord save me from my mother’s favorite subject, one Elaine evidently shared. I had no idea of Alexander’s opinion on kids or relationships, for that matter, but I didn’t want to end up with the spotlight on me next.
“We should be going.” I grabbed my coat from a nearby chair. “The school is expecting us.”
“Absolutely.” Alexander gave a charming smile before pulling on his coat and following me to the parking lot on the side of the building. “Thank you for that rescue.”
“No problem. I know the grandkid pressure well.” I unlocked my car, a smaller compact that got decent mileage.
Waylon had cut me a deal when I graduated from college.
He and Shannon needed something bigger for the kids, and I’d needed anything more reliable than the ancient Civic I’d kept on life support all through college.
As Alexander got settled, I cranked the heater to high.
“My nieces and nephews are wonderful, but my mom seems to think everyone needs to follow Waylon and Shannon’s lead on repopulating Hollyberry. ”
“Exactly.” Alexander shot me a commiserating look that went a long way to easing my awkwardness over having him in my car.
He’d been far friendlier toward me since the other night when we’d played the board game, but I continued to feel weirdly nervous around him.
If anything, playing my favorite game with him had only made me that much more jittery.
It was one thing to suffer a crush from afar, and another entirely to enjoy spending time with him and to have him riding next to me in my car.
Alexander, however, had no such issues as he kept on chatting as he buckled up. “It’s gotten to the point where I never mention dating to my mother, or else I start getting forwarded wedding planning emails.”
“Does ballet even leave you time to date?” Acting was hardly my strong suit, but I kept my tone casually disinterested. Despite my long-standing crush on the guy, I didn’t know much about his personal life, and curiosity made my pulse speed up.
“Not really. People do it anyway, of course.” Alexander gave a knowing chuckle as I headed out of the parking lot and toward the elementary school, which sat on the other side of the neighborhood of historic houses rimming downtown.
“When I was an apprentice in Boston, I had a messy thing with a fellow company member that led to me swearing off dating dancers and Boston both. Then, somehow, after a few years in Seattle, I ended up with amnesia and did the same thing with a choreographer.” He groaned and leaned back in his seat, taking all my hopes that he was gay with him.
I hadn’t wanted to assume, but I sure had hoped.
I kept my expression neutral, though, as Alexander thumped his head against the headrest. “I’m done for real now though. No dating until retirement.”
“That could be a long wait.” I paused at a stop sign.
Alexander likely meant ballet retirement, not the traditional senior citizen one, but if he followed the typical path set by Tavio and others, he might have another six years in him. That was a long time to be single.
“With any luck.” His voice went clipped as he was undoubtedly thinking about his injury.
“What if you meet the right woman at the wrong time?” I asked to distract both of us.
“Gender isn’t the limiting factor with me.
” Alexander dropped the bombshell like more of an aside.
However, fresh hope surged through me even as his tone turned more cynical.
“There’s no such thing as the right person.
Trust me. I’ve been in enough productions that center around the myth of true love. Fairytales are only on the stage.”
“Perhaps on fairytales. But true love exists.” Some of that errant hope colored my voice. “I’ve seen it.”
My parents were going on forty years together, and Alexander’s were as well. And for all I grumbled about Waylon and Shannon, they were stupidly in love.
“And I hope you find it.” All that was missing from Alexander’s patronizing tone was a head pat.
“Thanks.” I pulled into the school parking lot and busied myself finding a visitor parking spot rather than continuing the debate. As we exited the car, the bitter wind whipped across our faces.
“Do we check in with the front office first?” Alexander followed me toward what I hoped were the main doors.
The school was an older building that had been added onto over the years in haphazard fashion, resulting in wings reflecting competing architectural trends.
The main building was brick with wide concrete steps leading to a bank of heavy doors and a ramp off to one side.
“Yes, we need visitor passes.” I pressed the button for admission, and one of the office support staff let us into the building.
After we were issued our shiny orange visitor badges, the same middle-aged woman showed us to the cafeteria.
We were greeted by Mr. Davis, a harried guy in his late twenties or so with a cartoon T-shirt of a dog teaching in front of a blackboard, as his and the other third-grade classes trooped in.
Our first presentation took double the allotted time with a stunning number of interruptions.
“I revise my earlier statement,” Alexander said in a low voice as we waited for the third graders to exit and the fourth graders to arrive. “This is chaos. Give me all the toddlers.”
“I love the kids’ enthusiasm.” I was used to the interruptions and wiggly kids, but Alexander’s droopy eyes were rather weary for not even ten in the morning.
“That’s one word for it.” He was spared more commentary by the arrival of the fourth graders, who brought even more interruptions and questions.
“Boys can’t be dancers.” A kid with wildly frizzy hair in the front row frowned at the pictures I was sharing of Alexander and other male dancers.
“My paycheck says otherwise.” Alexander was quick with the excellent comeback. He was getting decidedly snippy.
The next time we did a school visit, I’d bring along a coffee and a treat for him, but absent that, I tried my best to smooth things over.
“Anyone can be whatever they’d like,” I said in my most encouraging tone. “Plenty of boys love dancing.”
“It’s fun.” One of the other kids, a girl who seemed to have rubber bands for limbs and an inability to stay seated, leaped up to spin across the cafeteria.
“Addie.” Mr. Davis steered her back to her chair. “Settle down.”
“What’s fun about standing on your tippy-toes?” The boy remained unconvinced.
“Plenty.” Next to me, Alexander went up on one foot, extending the other leg high, much to the delight of the kids. I seized the chance to get us back on track, moving back to my presentation.
“I have pictures of some of the costumes—”
“Hey! He’s not wearing pants!” Another boy pointed at the screen.
“The ballet dancer is wearing white tights as part of his costume,” I corrected gently.
“Why would he do that?” The first boy wasn’t done with his questions.
Eyes narrow and mouth pursed, Alexander looked five seconds away from issuing a terse because, so I talked quickly.
“So he can leap extra high and spin fast.” I moved to a picture of Alexander in a Seattle show, leaping high above the stage. “I bet Alexander can jump higher than a lot of basketball players.”
“No way.” Both boys gasped at my audacity.
“Way.” Alexander flexed again.
“Show me.” Not surprisingly, the more talkative boy leaned forward.
“Not today.” I held up a hand before Alexander could risk reinjury by taking a dare from a ten-year-old. “Even Superman has to warm up before he flies, but you’ll see when you come to the show.”
Later, as we walked back to the car, Alexander paused to allow me to unlock it.
“Thanks for saving me from my own impatience earlier.” He gave a rueful chuckle. “I was this close to demonstrating.”
“I know.” I joined his laughter as we got situated in the car. “I’m sure you get tired of the ‘boys can’t dance’ line of questioning.”
“Definitely.” Groaning, he stretched his long legs in front of him.
“Was it hard being one of the few boys in the younger classes?” I asked. At our ballet school, like most, girls far outnumbered the boys, and it wasn’t unusual to have only one or two per class.
“Not as much as you might think.” Alexander shrugged as I drove out of the parking lot.
“With a much more outgoing twin sister, most of my friend group was already girls. It wasn’t until middle school that my being a boy who danced became an issue.
Random rude kids at school had things to say, not unlike those two today. ”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Despite the obvious strain around his eyes and mouth, Alexander waved off my concern. “Kids can be bullies, but I was lucky enough to have Tavio and Irina and others in my corner. Not everyone is that fortunate.”
“True. And that’s part of why I want to do the school visits. Open kids’ minds to possibilities.”
“You’re good at that.”
“I am?” I glanced over at him, certain I’d misheard, but he nodded.
“As exhausting as this was, the classroom visits are a good idea.” Alexander offered the praise easily, and his genuineness made me take the turn into the ballet parking lot with a little extra zip.
Alexander Dasher thought I had good ideas.
“Overall, the kids seem excited, which is a good thing. Maybe a few will go on to be fans.”
“And donors,” I added with a grin.
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” He offered a dramatic sigh before unbuckling. “I wish I could make funding magically appear for all the arts, but since I can’t, tell me more about this donor’s circle idea of yours.”
“You really want to hear?” We were already back at the school. He had no reason to entertain my rambles, but he gave another of those shocking nods.
“I told you that you have good ideas.”
“If you play the game again with me tonight after your rehearsal, I could fill you in then.” I used my most convincing tone.
Might as well go for broke. I’d been dying to play him again, and not simply because of my giant crush.
For all he grumbled, he was a smart player with a head for strategy and seeing possibilities.
“I suppose.” He shrugged. I was quickly coming to realize that Alexander liked to stay aloof even when agreeing to plans. That was fine by me as I’d take his yes however he wanted to issue it.
“We’ll make a gamer of you yet.” I beamed at him as we made our way into the building.
“You can try,” he teased. Teasing. Alexander Dasher was legit bantering with me. “Maybe if I keep playing, I might stand a chance of winning.”
“You never know.” I resisted the urge to click my heels like a chorus line dancer. And indeed, one did never know. Maybe Alexander would get hooked on the board game and me both.