10. Not a Soloist #4
I squeal and do a small happy dance before heading back into the wolf den. I reenter with an uncontained smile and a boldness I haven’t had in a long time. I take my seat and place my phone face down on the table, just like Mom.
Let her comment on it, I silently dare her. I’d love to see her try and tear me down right now. I bet she can’t.
“Must’ve been a good call?” Scarlett asks, smiling warmly. “You look as happy as ever.”
“Right. Who was that?” Mom adds, her tone tight and already suspicious.
I can’t contain it even if I tried. “That was Kasper Pedersen. He’s the Artistic Director of Hollingford Ballet Company. He just offered me a position as a principal dancer.”
“What?” Mom asks, her voice sharp, confusion laced with something dangerously close to anger.
“Wow! That’s wonderful, Eleanor. I’m happy for you,” Scarlett says sincerely.
“What luck, huh?” Edward adds with a smirk. “That we were just sitting here discussing your future, and you got an offer mid-dinner. Bravo.”
I open my mouth to thank them, but Mom cuts in before I can.
“Bravo? Wonderful?” she scoffs, setting her fork down with a loud clang.
“Eleanor, that’s a company out in the middle of nowhere.
There’s nothing reputable about it. It might as well be Hudson Edge.
” Her eyes lock onto mine like lasers. “This is why you didn’t tell me where you auditioned.
Because you knew how disappointed I’d be. ”
“Mom—” Scarlett reaches over, placing a gentle hand on Mom’s arm.
“Not now, Scarlett.” She brushes her hand off like it’s dirt.
She whips back to me. “That is why, isn’t it? You knew. You will never become a real principal or prima there, Eleanor. Hello—do you realize who I am? I could have helped you.” She shakes her head slowly, the disgust curling in her mouth. “Such a disappointment,” she mutters under her breath.
I don’t cry. Not here. Not in front of her. “They are a real company and hold performances just like any other professional troupe, right?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm. “Sure, it’s in a small town, but that doesn’t make them any less reputable—”
She lets out a cruel laugh. “Please. You’ve got a lot to learn. You’ll go nowhere dancing there. You’ll either age out or end up teaching. You won’t become a household name. You’ll be forgotten.” She pins me with her gaze. “You’ll be nothing.”
“Mom—” Scarlett tries again, more firmly this time.
But it doesn’t stop her.
“People who end up in small companies like that are either late to the game, overpromoted students, injured dancers, or those easing into retirement. There’s no growth.
No visibility.” She wrinkles her nose. “And Hollingford? A town that small has no chance of viewings. No chance of anything. This is the worst possible position you could be in.”
I sit there, too numb to respond. Taking it like I always do. Because what can I say? For once, I’m proud of myself. And nothing I say will ever make her proud of me.
“Let’s think about this diplomatically,” Edward starts.
She lifts a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. “I want you to leave, Eleanor.” Her voice is ice-cold. “I’m so disappointed, I can’t stand the sight of you.”
Scarlett gasps. Edward flinches and looks away. But no one says anything. I just sit there, gutted. How can I be on cloud nine one moment, and obliterated the next? By my own mother. The one person who’s supposed to love me unconditionally.
I quietly rise from the table and gently push in my chair.
“Thanks for dinner,” I mumble softly, glancing between Edward and Scarlett. “It was nice to see you both.”
“Eleanor—” Scarlett begins, but I can’t stay a moment longer.
I retrieve my purse, slip my phone inside, and make my way toward the front door.
“Mom, really?” Scarlett’s voice carries behind me. “We couldn’t have one nice dinner with her here?”
I don’t wait to hear what Mom says.
As I step out into the cool night air, my heels wobble slightly against the uneven cobblestone driveway. I pause, steady myself, and keep walking toward the gate, the only escape out of here.
Once I’m on the other side, I whip out my phone and request an Uber. Then I sink down onto the sidewalk to wait, not caring how it looks to the passing drivers. Let them think I’m a stray dog. Mom would say it herself if she saw me.
When the Uber pulls up, I climb into the back seat, exchange a few polite words with the driver, and then let the silence consume me. The hour-long drive stretches before me, quiet except for the hum of the tires and the echo of everything that’s just unfolded.
Mom’s words replay in my head, one after the other, their disappointment and dismissiveness lingering in every part of me. But I breathe in and do my best to let them go. I tell myself to let them roll off me like rain, in thin rivulets sliding away before they can soak in.
Maybe this is just a stepping stone. Maybe Hollingford isn’t the end but the beginning. She just needs to see I’m serious, and one day she will.
The streetlights blur past in gold streaks as the sky deepens to indigo. I lean my head against the window and look up at the stars blooming in the dark.
A hint of a smile plays on my lips. She’ll see. They all will.