Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
OLIVIA
“No, lift,” a French voice called from Olivia’s phone, cradled on a tripod in The Barre dance studio.
A video screen of her ballet coach, Natalia, filled her phone screen.
The woman pulled her head as if it was on a puppet string. “Do you see how your head is ah? It needs to be like this: Ah.” The dance teacher angled her head, as if listening for a call from far away.
Her coach used the universal dance language of grunts and guttural sounds to indicate fine movements that no one had a name for. “Again.”
Olivia wiped the sweat from her brow and took 10 steps back, her toe shoes clopping on the hardwood. Should have broken these in more.
“And five, six…”
Olivia tightened her core, prepping for the run into her grand jeté.
Natalia coached along with Olivia’s movements.
Four steps to leap into a grand jeté, land. Pull up into an arabesque. Find my spot, spin hard for two, three, four times.
“And up!” her coach called
Olivia stopped on a dime from her pirouettes, pressed her chest forward, with her head angled, like Natalia had coached.
Two more quick pirouettes, and curve the thighs in, land in second position.
Olivia stayed still for the end of the combo, controlling her breath, knitting her abs around her rib cage to stay still.
“Eh, a little better.”
At least her disappointment sounds nice in the French accent.
Olivia broke her pose and nodded, catching her breath. Their session was almost over.
Natalia’s severe face nearly smiled at her. “Record the entire thing, send to me, and I will send you more thorough notes. It will be less terrible soon, I promise.”
To say the ballet world was not warm and fuzzy was an understatement.
Olivia nodded her head and smiled at the video. Be easy to work with, be grateful, don’t be a bother. “Thank you so much. I appreciate all the feedback.”
Olivia said her goodbyes and curled into a ball on the tumbling mats, catching her breath.
Stepping into the ballet world from Fairwick Falls felt like plunging into ice water from a hot tub.
The harshest words in Fairwick Falls were head pats compared to the daily constructive criticism she’d endured for fifteen years. She’d been compared to everything from a graceless cow to a dog shitting itself while trying to dance.
Olivia rolled her forehead on her knees. But with no other life skills, what else would I do?
She stood up and put her hands on her back, stretching, all the while her inner critique pecked at her like a deranged woodpecker.
“And you can try all of that, and it still won’t matter,” Inner Critique said, her voice sounding like Olivia’s but dripping with disdain. “You still may not make it. Because let’s be honest, no one wants you. They never wanted you. It was probably a mistake that you lasted this long.”
She inhaled a breath, scraping from the bottom of her toes to find some energy and inspiration to record the next full take.
It’s okay, she told herself with hope. Just push through. Do a couple more takes of the audition routine across the floor.
The highly technical Gregorovich variation of the Sugar Plum Fairy solo was sewed into her bones and muscles. She’d understudied it for eight years but had never once performed it.
She ignored the laughing, contemptuous huff of Inner Critique. “Not like this time will be any better than the last thousand times you practiced it,” she hissed.
She’d always been praised for her technical execution in dancing, but all her notes highlighted her lack of musicality. That mysterious “other” quality that made dancers stand out.
Swiping through her music to cue it up, “Under the Sea” caught her eye.
What if I did it like the kids, just this one time. For…fun?
She made herself laugh at the idea of channeling that chaos-fueled energy into the hyper technical Sugar Plum solo.
“Fuck it. Let’s just try it,” she said with a smile, cuing up a famous Nutcracker song and letting herself have fun with it.
Just this one time.
* * *
LUCA
Luca gulped, trying to focus on the fourth potential shop space in Fairwick Falls. The woman in front of him looked like a wolf hunting its first meal in two weeks.
He sidestepped her and took a few more photos of the empty garage space. This had been a mechanic shop before the owner retired. Now a large real estate firm owned and leased it.
“So, like…” The building agent—Audry? Amber?—twirled her keys loudly. “You lift heavy things a lot? Your arms are, like, so big.” She laughed as if he’d said something funny.
“Uh.” He scratched the back of his head, uncomfortable. “Yeah. Comes from dealing with cars, I guess. You said we could move in any time?”
“Yeah, I don’t really know.” She laughed. “But I know they want to get somebody in the space. I could get you a really good deal.”
“Yeah?” he said with a smile over his shoulder. He loved a deal. It had been years since he’d bought anything full price—other than when AB wanted something special.
This was the biggest spot he’d looked at, only one big enough to house all the work he’d need to do.
It had a lot out back and would be easy for customers to find.
He could already see it: where the first bay would go, what he’d have to change, how the workflow would move from intake to finish.
He’d need a place for the air compressors and the paints.
Best of all, it was a three-minute drive to Fairwick Falls Elementary and a blessed seven minutes from his house.
“You could take me out as a thank-you,” Audry/Amber said.
“Uh…” He gulped. “I’m flattered, but I don’t date.”
She winked. “You have my number if that changes. Want me to put you down for a twelve-month lease?”
“Yeah,” he said, a small weight lifting from his chest. He’d move the shop here and finally have more peace in his life.
In a stroke of luck, his sister walked out of the credit union next door, so Luca said goodbye to the agent a little too fast.
Pearl stood outside the Fairwick Falls Credit Union talking with Nash.
“A baby goat-shaped cake? For Lily’s birthday?” Pearl scratched her head in confusion.
“Wearing a Hawaiian shirt, if possible,” Nash said, looking determined.
Nash chuckled and waved a hand at Luca. “I know my wife, trust me on that Pearl.”
Pearl hit Luca’s arm, smirking, as he met them between the buildings. “Look at us! Titans of fucking industry.”
“Hey, man.” Luca shook Nash’s hand.
Luca had busted his ass to make the best farmer’s market van for Nash’s wife Lily and her flower shop, and that investment of time had yielded endless luxury cars in need of ding and scratch repair.
Luca jerked his head to the building next door. “Think I found a space for our shop next door,” he said with pride.
“Hey, man, that’s amazing.” Nash patted Luca’s back.
“Thanks again for all the referrals. It’s been a big help as we save up to move the shop here.”
“My pleasure. My branch manager in Cooperstown said you fixed his teenager’s fender bender nearly instantly.”
He respected the hell out of Nash. From everything he’d heard, people loved working for him, and he’d built a credit union practically overnight so the town could avoid predatory fees from the only bank in town. They’d opened two more locations in the last year.
“How do you do it all?” Luca said, amazed. “I have one place I’m trying to move and I’m about to lose my fuckin’ mind.”
Nash shrugged, shoving his hand with the expensive watch into his equally expensive khakis. “I have a great team. Can you imagine me trying to do all this by myself?” He laughed as if it would be ridiculous.
Luca gulped and tried to match his laugh. Pearl cocked an eyebrow at him that he ignored. So I have trouble delegating. Sue me.
Nash continued. “I took all the people I trusted most—people who’d been with me for a long time—and let them do their thing. When I find people I can trust, I get out of their way.” His phone dinged. “Speaking of which, I’m late for a meeting.”
“Wait, I need to give you a quote for your cake,” Pearl said, typing on her phone.
“Just text me. See you at family game night?” Nash said, walking backwards as he talked to Pearl.
“No snacks this time! Reed can’t stand the sound of people eating pretzels,” Pearl called.
“Cocktails and milkshakes only, got it!” Nash said, jogging to his BMW.
With a thundering realization, Luca realized that Pearl and Nash would be in-laws when Reed popped the question.
Reed and Nash’s wife Lily were half-siblings, and he couldn’t imagine two people more unalike than Pearl Bishop and fancy-pants Nash Donnelly.
“Word to the wise,” Luca said, his stomach turning. “Skip the diner and make the milkshakes at home.”
Pearl snorted. “Don’t have to tell me. My BLT last week was missing the B and the T, and the L tasted like A-S-S.”
Luca’s phone dinged.
Olivia
AB insisted we stab some pumpkins.
Her words, not mine.
Is that okay? I wasn’t sure where you stood on Halloween.
A photo of AB clutching a pumpkin nearly the size of her filled his screen.
Luca gave the message a thumbs-up.
Gonna need a liiiiiittle more context, buddy.
LUCA
Halloween: thumbs up.
Stabbing: thumbs down
Oh, god, I would never give her anything sharp.
She’s making the design. I will do the stabbing.
Another selfie of them holding paper drawings of jack-o’-lantern faces over their faces popped into her phone.
“Oh my god,” Pearl said in horror. “Your face is a disgusting puddle of lovesick right now.”
“Shut up,” he said without any heat, elbowing her.
She looked at his phone as if it was radioactive waste.
“Aw—wait,” she whined, now missing out on the fun. “You guys are doing pumpkins without me?” Pearl said with a pout that looked exactly like AB’s. “You know I love stabbing things.”
“We can stab pumpkins anytime you want.”
“AB looks really happy,” Pearl said quietly. “And, um”—she hip-bumped him—“so do you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, trying to make his face stop smiling.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Your face. Look at it.” She pointed to the credit union’s glass door.
A dopey-ass grin was indeed on his face.
He shoved his phone into his pocket. “She’s my nanny. Shut up.”
Pearl tried to contain a burst of laughter. “I don’t know…” she teased. “I know from personal experience that banging the boss is pretty hoooot.”
“Bleurgh.” He grimaced, knowing she was talking about Reed, who she’d worked for over the summer in the bookstore.
He shook his head. “I don’t date. You know that.”
“Luca, it’s been years.”
“You know the rules—”
“That you made up!” Pearl pushed his shoulder.
“For a good reason. I don’t want you to step in again if shit goes sideways.”
She’d let him mourn Marcy’s unexpected passing for weeks, taking on every single thing in his life. She’d kept a toddler AB alive and happy while he alternated between despair and sleep. He’d stopped eating, smiling. Even looking at AB had been painful because she’d looked so much like Marcy.
In the fourth week, Pearl had tossed a literal bucket of ice water onto his face as he slept on the floor and told him to get his shit together.
She poked him with each word. “That’s what we do. You and me against the world, right?” Her smile broke his heart because it reminded him of exactly what she’d looked like when she was AB’s age.
Pearl was younger than him by a year and a half, and they’d been thick as thieves growing up.
He’d always been the protector.
And he’d had to protect her a lot, unfortunately.
His phone buzzed again. He hoped it was another update from Olivia.
UNKNOWN
ned 2 talk 2 u. need help this month
“Fuck,” he muttered.
He knew exactly who that unknown number was.
“Everything okay?” Pearl asked, trying to look at his phone.
He hid it from her and stuck his phone back in his pocket. “Just a work thing.”
Pearl would lose her absolute shit if she knew he still talked to their mom. She’d gone no-contact as soon as she’d hit eighteen.
Luca couldn’t abandon his mom. Like she’d told him a million times growing up, she didn’t have anyone else. She had to depend on him.
She’d depended on him when he was eight, watching Pearl so she could go out drinking. She’d depended on him to take care of the house at around the same age. He’d even learned how to call the light and water companies when he was in high school so they wouldn’t get their stuff turned off.
For some reason, he felt a responsibility to make sure that his mom was okay, even though she’d never returned the favor.
“Look, I gotta go.”
“Ooo, was it a dirty text?” Pearl teased, trying to get a rise out of him.
“Go away,” he said, walking away from her with a laugh.
“I’m happy to babysit anytime so you and your nanny can get freaky.”
“Pearl!” he yelled.
She burst out cackling as she walked to Bookish.
He let out a long, heavy sigh as he sat in his truck. He checked that Pearl was walking around the corner before he responded.
LUCA
How much?
He didn’t even bother to ask who it was.
UNKNOWN
this is mom BTW
2k
He sighed.
I can do 1k.
i’ll ask Pearlie for the other then
Fuck. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. She always did this.
But the thought of his mother homeless—or worse—was unbearable. It wasn’t like her childhood had been great either. She’d had it worse than him.
There had been a handful of bright spots in his childhood, he remembered. When she was between boyfriends, sometimes they’d even almost had fun. In the end, though, she always chose the boyfriends over them.
He’d made the mistake of getting attached once—a nice guy who’d stuck around for a year. Luca had fooled himself into thinking they could be like those other families. The ones who went to the zoo and the park and had birthday parties.
Spoiler: that never happened, and they always ended up in yelling fights at the trailer. He’d console his sobbing mom as she asked him never to leave her.
He sighed, hating himself.
LUCA
I’ll send it.
UNKNOWN
you’re the best son
how’s ur kiddo?
That was always how it was with her: she’d ask for what she needed first, and then she’d pretend to be interested for a little while.
He wouldn’t fall for it this time.
He tossed his phone to the other side of the cab, just so he wasn’t tempted to answer. He wouldn’t pretend that she gave a shit about him or AB.
Annabelle hadn’t seen her since she was a baby, and that was by design.
He’d leave the stench of that smoke-stained, boozy trailer behind so that Annabelle would never know what kind of life he’d come from.