Chapter 30
Thirty
Pas de papillon: the step of the butterfly.
Rudy
“I have excellent news.” My mother glided into the office at the ballet school with a triumphant smile.
“Oh?” I looked up from my laptop, where I’d been working on a flyer for winter classes in advance of our regular schedule starting back up later in January.
Removing my glasses briefly, I rubbed the bridge of my nose.
My mother had been at a budget meeting with the board this afternoon, and I was relieved to see her happy rather than frazzled as she often was after a tense board meeting.
“The Nutcracker production was such a success, the board has agreed to fund your position another six months if you want it.” She grinned at me.
“That’s great.” I forced a measure of enthusiasm into my voice.
The discussion over staff positions was why I hadn’t been at the meeting myself.
I’d run the budget spreadsheets myself, so I’d known the funding was there, but the news was still welcome.
It wasn’t my mother’s fault that Alexander had been gone a week now, and I didn’t have much excitement for anything, including my continued employment.
“And of course I want to keep working here with you.”
I hadn’t allowed myself to think about what I’d do if my position were eliminated.
I liked working with my mother, liked all the families who came to classes, enjoyed being around the dancers like Cheryl, and found satisfaction in keeping everything at the school humming along.
And paying the bills was nice, as was living upstairs from work. I had everything I needed.
Well, almost everything, but I wasn’t about to discuss that with my mother, who was already peering at me intently.
“Are you sure?” She plunked the folder full of budget papers I’d prepared for her down on the edge of my desk so she could rest a hand on my shoulder. “I love having you here, and you’ve been such a godsend, but I don’t want to keep you off the job market forever.”
“I’m not worried about that.” I gave a weary sigh. New year, same tired discussion.
“Good. I was just telling Waylon what an amazing job you did with ensuring the production was a big hit.” Huh. My mother’s smile widened, her pride seemingly genuine. “The public schools want us back, season ticket sales are up, and enrollment in the winter session of classes is booming.”
“You were bragging about me to Waylon?” I narrowed my gaze.
Waylon, Helen, and their families had taken up much of my mother’s annual holiday letter that she included with her cards.
My work at the school had merited a mention, but not the paragraphs of my siblings.
“You’re always going on about me getting a real job.
Waylon and Helen are the true success stories. ”
“I love all my children equally. I’m proud of all of you.
I’m sorry if I’ve caused you to think otherwise.
” My mother rubbed my shoulders. “And truth be told, I have a fair amount of guilt over needing so much of your help last year. That’s behind a lot of my fretting.
I don’t want to hold you back from living your life. ”
“You’re not.” I spun in my office chair so I could meet her gaze. “Perhaps our sibling rivalry has limited my ability to hear praise. And this school might mean the world to you, but you being here to run it means everything to me.”
“Well, I owe a lot to you.” My mother’s eyes turned misty. “I couldn’t have made it through the last year without you.”
I stood so I could give her a hug. Truth be told, I needed the hug too. I didn’t like thinking about how different last year could have gone. Her health was a continued gift, one I’d been guilty of overlooking in my irritation over my siblings.
Indeed, I’d let that irritation cloud my own sense of self-worth.
I flashed back to the New Year’s Eve party and how out of place I’d felt.
How much of that was due to misplaced shame over my underemployment?
I’d spent the whole time with Alexander convinced he could do so much better than me, instead of giving myself credit for everything I had to offer.
I wanted to tell him this new insight, but he was gone.
The realization made me hug my mother tighter, like a kid seeking comfort.
“Love you too,” I mumbled into her hair.
“And now that I’m back to my old self, I just want to make sure you’re happy, whatever that means for you.” She stepped back from the hug to give me a searching looking. “I love you working here, but we’d survive if you felt called elsewhere.”
“Thank you for saying that.” I gave her another hug in large part to hide my own damp eyes. Did I feel called elsewhere? My head hurt. I was no longer sure about anything.
“I mean it.” Her tone turned stern. “You’ve been so down this week. You deserve to be happy.”
“Post-holiday funk.” I channeled Alexander’s indifference, right down to the hand wave and dismissive tone. “Don’t worry yourself.”
“If you’re sure…” She quirked her mouth as if she wanted to say more, so I forced another bright smile.
“I’m sure.” I returned to my chair. “As soon as I finish up here, I have a Friday game night tonight. That will help.”
“Enjoy, darling.” Mom didn’t sound entirely convinced, which was fine because I also lacked certainty as to what might help my funk. But Troy had sent out the invites for the first game night of the new year, and I hadn’t been able to summon a decent excuse.
After completing the flyer, I gathered my decks and the cheese plate I’d picked up earlier. The cheese plate made me think of Alexander, but then, every little thing made me think of Alexander, from my rumpled bed to my shark deck to the back stairs to my apartment.
Sighing at my ridiculousness, I headed to Troy’s store, resigned to endure the evening.
“You made it!” Irma, at least, was happy to see me. “I made champagne-and-strawberry-inspired whoopie pies since this is the first game night of the new year.”
“And we did seaweed wraps for anyone making healthy resolutions.” Ari floated over. The vegetable wraps were almost the same shade as her emerald evening gown, which she’d worn again.
“Any resolutions for you?” Chris came up on my other side. He wore a Hollyberry Elementary sweatshirt and his usual wide grin.
“Not really.” I’d been far too down about Alexander leaving to make a single resolution this year. My conversation with my mother, though, had me contemplating whether I should resolve to work on my self-esteem.
You’re cute, hot, and sweet. There’s no one else I’d rather take to this party. Alexander’s comment on the train rang in my ears. God, I missed him so much. My chest ached.
“Not even to drink more coffee now that your ballet dancer has left?” Chris raised his eyebrows at me.
“He’s not my dancer.” I sounded so forlorn that Ari turned back from arranging her seaweed wraps to give me a hug.
“But you wish he were.” Chris guessed accurately, and some of the sparkle dimmed from his eyes.
“Yeah.” I hated letting the guy down, but my heart had an Alexander-sized hole that wouldn’t be easily filled. “It might be a while before I…drink coffee.”
“No worries.” Chris used an easy tone, but he glanced around the room, undoubtedly looking for an escape from my sadness over Alexander.
“Are you going to do the whole bi-coastal thing?” Ari asked, keeping one arm around me. “My sister and her then-fiancée did that when they were in different PhD programs.”
“That sounds miserable.” I groaned at the mere thought of years’ worth of graduate school on opposite coasts. “And hard. They broke up?”
“No, they’re married now.” Ari laughed like the long-distance thing was a side quest rather than the main villain in her sister’s story. “They have two kids. They teach at different universities, but both are in the Philly area. No more four-time-zone commute.”
“Oh.” My voice was flat, but my mind was racing. Had Alexander and I given up too easily?
“It was a rough couple of years, but luckily, nothing lasts forever.” Ari gave a shrug, the fur trim on her dress rippling like a cat stretching.
She was right that nothing lasted forever.
I’d assumed all along that Alexander and I were destined for a single season.
Was it logistics that had held me back or my own doubts?
Those pesky thoughts about self-worth from earlier returned to nag at me.
I’d been so afraid of Alexander’s rejection that I hadn’t allowed myself to answer honestly.
My brain continued to churn long after Ari drifted away. I managed a few bites of food, but I kept eyeing the exit, ready to be alone with my thoughts.
“Up for a game?” Troy asked before I could go in search of my coat.
“Come on. Join us,” Chris urged. On his other side, Irma nodded enthusiastically. Chris was handling my rejection rather well. Perhaps I owed him a game if nothing else.
“I suppose I can.” I took a seat next to Irma at the table. Unable to escape memories of Alexander, I reached for my shark deck. Might as well play a round in tribute to his bloodthirsty ways. My stomach twisted with a fresh wave of longing.
I shifted my attention to the game, trying to let it be the distraction I sorely needed. However, it didn’t take long for Troy to slice through my army of sharks.
“Heck.” I groaned as I was the first to be defeated. “How did you do that?”
“Easy. You’re too predictable.” Troy gave a good-natured laugh.
“You do use the same strategy a lot, dear,” Irma added when I glared at Troy.
Heck. Maybe they were both right. I was rather easy to read. And stubborn. I’d been so certain of the outcome that I’d been afraid to try a different approach with Alexander. I’d fallen back on old feelings of inadequacy and given up rather than fighting for what I truly wanted.
“Maybe it’s time to change things up,” I said slowly. You deserve to be happy, my mother had said, and I let myself believe that. I’d been waiting for some sort of professional purpose, but what if my calling was something altogether different?
“Do you want to play another game, or do you need to talk to Alexander?” Chris asked.
I blinked. How had Chris guessed the direction of my thoughts when I was only now sorting them out?
“Why would I do that?” I pursed my lips, uncertain as to his motives here.
“Dude.” Troy groaned as if running out of patience with me. Understandable. I was also a bit sick of my moping. Shaking his head, Troy pointed over my shoulder. “He’s right behind you.”