Tiny Dancer Page 20

  My feet were killing me. I took off the black pumps and told Claudia I was going outside to sit by the pool.

  “Don’t be gone long,” she said. “This is the best place for meeting guys. I’ve never had so many boys ask me out.”

  The sky was black and the pool mirrored the night including the moon that was nearly full. It was a silver platter lying on the water’s surface.

  I felt that, what with Billy threatening him, Drake would go on home. My feet would stop aching and I would join Claudia and not spoil the rest of the evening for her.

  I dropped the clutch on one side of me and my shoes on the other side. I would have dipped my feet in the pool had it not been for the black lace stockings, although I was tempted to dive in, black dress and all. I sat beside the edge of the pool, my feet to the side. I looked into the water and saw my own face. For all the world, Alice Curry was looking back at me. I blinked and it was me again looking like a foolish girl.

  I admitted only to myself Drake was a good kisser, at least for what little I knew of kissing. But it was not for Drake that I allowed it. A part of me wanted Billy to see us and react. He reacted, all right. Like an older brother.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  I looked up. “Sure, Billy,” I said, trying not to act jolted by his sudden presence. Claudia was right. He did have a way of appearing at inopportune times. Were to I admit anything at all, it would be that for all my years up until this point, I had imagined Alice Curry as my guardian angel. But the truth of the matter was that Billy Thornton was the one who deserved the distinction.

  “I want to apologize for Drake.”

  “Not necessary.”

  “He wasn’t supposed to be here. When he asked me to escort Marcy to the dance, he made it sound like she was hurting from their breakup.”

  “Wasn’t she?”

  “She likes Drake, a lot. I sent him back inside to dance with her.”

  “So he does what you tell him, just like that?”

  “Of course. He’s got a spine like a snail. But he doesn’t know how to treat a girl like her or anyone. Especially not you.”

  “What kind of girl am I?” I wanted to know.

  “Not the kind that needs to get mixed up with Drake. He falls in love at the drop of a hat. Tomorrow it could be, I don’t know, a cat.”

  “A cat?” I laughed.

  He laughed too. “I’m just saying Drake wakes up like someone’s poured pixie dust over him and, boom, he’s in love. Again.”

  “Boom.”

  “The last thing I suspected though, was that,” he stopped, not finishing his thought.

  “That he would fall for a girl like me?”

  “Of course he would. Anyone would. Look at you. Every guy in the room had his eye on you tonight.”

  “I know it’s hard for you to think of me in any other way, but I’ve had to grow up pretty fast, especially in the past year.”

  “I’m so sorry. I know what you’ve been through. I miss Siobhan too, like I’ve lost my own little sister.”

  “I just think it’s time you stopped rescuing me, Billy.”

  I must have offended him. “I deserve that,” he said, standing up and walking away from me. Then he turned back saying, “I’ve always felt responsible for you. I don’t know how to stop. . . being this way with you.” He walked right back and sat next to me. He took off his shoes and socks and rolled up his pants. Then he dropped his feet in the water. “Ah,” he said, relieved.

  I was still rubbing my feet when I told him, “You’d think we’d be used to this kind of thing. After all, we’re dancers.”

  “The best on the floor tonight. You owe me one, you know, before the night is over.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t. We’ll cut quite the figure,” I said. “Make them all jealous.”

  “They’ll all wish they were us,” he joined me in my conspiracy. “Regular Ginger and Fred,” he said quietly.

  “Turn around,” I said, making him look away. I lifted my dress and unhooked my stockings. Then I pulled down the dress and dropped the stockings behind me. I slid my bare feet into the water next to his, cozying up to him. I blamed my sudden boldness on Alice’s dress. “So much better.”

  “I’ve always wondered how girls stood those things.”

  “I’ve seen you in tights.”

  “Not like those, smarty,” he said. He fell quiet, but it was good. We had always been able to share the quiet without feeling awkward.

  The thought that had been nagging me since our trip to Wilmington, though, finally spilled out. “I want to ask you something. It’s about Wrightsville Beach.”

  “Oh, that. I know I brought it up. I decided it was best to leave it in the past. I shouldn’t have said anything at all.”

  I disagreed. “No, I hate that. My family’s like that. We don’t talk about anything, especially the past. “Would you at least tell me what you were talking about?” I braced myself, staring into the pool.

  “I respect you, you know that.”

  Here it came, finally.

  “I was worried I had a few too many beers—and forgive me for drinking like that in front of you and Claudia.” He pressed his hands beside his face. “I hope you didn’t tell anyone, like your folks.”

  “No, go on,” I said.

  “But that’s not what I mean. I remember bringing up something about your mother, Alice. If I said anything, told you too much, I’m sorry.”

  “That’s what’s been bothering you?”

  “Yes.”

  “All this time? You thought you said too much about my mother, Alice Curry?”

  “Did I?”

  “Not at all. You were complimentary.”

  “I don’t doubt that.” He seemed relieved.

  I felt as though I had held my breath from our night on the beach until now. It struck me funny, so I started laughing. I couldn’t stop. I fell over backward laughing.

  “I guess I’m a regular comedian,” he laughed too.

  Then I was struck by a more serious thought. I sat up. “What do you mean, you were afraid you’d told me too much about my mother? What is it that you know about her?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What do you know that I don’t?”

  “It’s all in the past, don’t you see?”

  “For other people, it’s in the past. Mine has a way of waking up with me every morning, following me around and haunting me.” I did not know how to make him understand. The last thing I promised Alice was that I would never tell anyone we were meeting. “What could you know about my mother that I don’t already know?”

  His silence angered me. “This isn’t fair. You never should have brought it up in the first place.”

  “I think I said that. Now let’s go inside and have a good time.”

  “Wait, you said that you admitted to being complimentary of her. Don’t tell me you slept with her too?” It was a horrible thought. But I had heard worse things of late.

  “You shouldn’t say things like that. What if someone overheard us? Think about it, I was seven years old. I was a kid too, like you.”

  “I don’t remember you as seven.” I apologized.

  “Your mother was a good woman, a good wife. She was the best mother out of all of the rest of them. She never pushed you to dance. It was all your idea. Did you know that?”

  “I can’t remember that much. I wish I could.”

  He did seem to know her better than I did. “It’s good you can’t.”

  “Please tell me about her. I want to know her. Why did she leave me?”

  He turned away. “I can’t.” He stood up, hopping on one foot and then the other as he put on his socks and shoes.”

  Before he disappeared into the ballroom, I said. “I’ll find out. If I want to know something, I figure it out.”

  “You won’t figure this out,” he said. “Ever.”

  He left me sitting by the pool. We were not going to have that dance after all. Shame.
It would have been a showstopper. I kicked at the water.

  * * * * *

  Irene dropped me home. As I walked up the steps, I could still hear Claudia twittering through her open window. She had made it a point to dance with every available boy. I had to assure Irene we did not sample any spiked punch. At least, I didn’t. But you could not prove it by Claudia, for she was uninhibited, her glee spilling over the banks. I envied her.

  Before I crept upstairs, I whispered good-night to Daddy who sat up quietly reading in the study. Then I flipped on the upstairs hall light but it didn’t come on. I was so tired I decided to replace the bulb in the morning. I stripped down, laying the black dress across Siobhan’s bed, dropping the shoes and purse onto the floor. The moon slipped behind a cloud as thin as silk and I slipped under its spell.

  I was fully asleep when I heard a phantom whisper. It is said that when you lose someone you hear that person sometimes. Maybe it’s like a person who has lost a leg, and they wake up to find their toe is itching.

  I reached for the lamp, turning on the switch. Siobhan’s bed was neatly made as it had been all summer.

  I got up and touched the bedding expecting the coverlet to be warm. It wasn’t. First, I sat down overwhelmed with loneliness. Next came the sense that life was passing me by. Before, my life was orderly and I knew from one day to the next what I would be doing. There were rehearsals after school and another big rehearsal every Saturday. What I ate was organized around my dancer’s life. I was dancer fit and dancer blithe. Sunday we rose up early and went to church with Vesta. On holy days, Siobhan was often one of the girls asked to ring the church bells. But now with the days falling away containing nothing, my hours were empty of any meaningful content.

  Sometime soon thereafter, sleep overtook me and I slept the sleep of a person sedated. I didn’t dream or recall anything like so many nights previous.

  Come morning, a bright white bird circled over the house, the sun haloing all around it. A gull had lost its way from the coast. It squawked loudly, waking me. As quickly as it flew outside my window, it flapped and soared higher and was gone. I threw back the cover and staggered to the shower. Then I dressed for the morning, slipping into a pair of pedal pushers and a sleeveless blouse.

  I stared for a long time out my window. There was nothing for me to look out upon but the burned out garden. I had known it was immense but the width of it was enormous, like a landing pad. Then I spotted up on the far hill, maybe a half mile from the Miller’s house, a long hot house. That was what I called it anyway. It was a place where young plants could be tended until danger of frost was over. In all of my trips in and out of the Miller’s house not once had I gone inside that nursery. I was certain Theo had invited me into every room of his life. But all their activities took place on the Miller’s porch or the back yard. All other goings-on spun out of the kitchen. Now I could see the plant nursery so well.

  I was settling on how I might venture around the Miller’s house and see into the nursery when Irene phoned. “Today’s my birthday, Flannery. Come help me cook.

  Claudia’s suntan had deepened to the color of pecans, her blonde hair sun-bleached from swimming at the resort pool. Her hair hung like strands of curling ribbon. She had tied up her blouse beneath her bra exposing her brown stomach. Her boobs were getting bigger and that meant making everyone aware.

  I had organized Irene’s surprise birthday party for the last two years. I felt the need to apologize. It was fast becoming a summer of forgotten birthdays.

  “I don’t expect you to surprise me every birthday. You and Claudia have your own things to do now. But thank you for agreeing to help out,” said Irene, grateful as usual.

  I got busy for I knew exactly where to find most of her cooking tools.

  “I wanted it to be just our family tonight,” said Irene. “But you’re family too.” She handed me a bowl of icing. “Could you frost the cake? Seems silly doing it for myself.”

  “You should have told me sooner, I would have made a cake,” I said, fishing a spatula from a kitchen drawer.

  “I knew you’d say that. But you’re not responsible for entertaining me every year I flip a birthday.”

  After I finished, I got out the margarita glasses. Irene would want festive drinks. Dwight was coming down the circular staircase. He caught my eye and shot me a thumbs-up. He was heading out the door still running a comb through his hair. I waved amicably, although a small voice at the back of my mind reminded me that we had all gathered to make a small celebration for Irene. To where was he taking off?

  Irene was setting the table, but caught sight of her husband slipping away. She passed the vegetable tray to me and then turned to follow him. I situated the tray in between silver candlesticks on the buffet. But I could not help but overhear Irene ask him where in the world he was going and did he forget the day?

  Claudia stared at him, disappointment marring the optimism that had brightened her face as we buzzed around elevating the day for her mother.

  Irene had just mixed martinis so she handed a glass to Dwight. He downed it and set his glass on the entry table.

  I ran and picked up his drink like a domestic, accommodating him with club soda, promptly dropping a lime slice into it. I handed it back to him but then stopped dead when I caught the faintest hint of pretext in the way he cut his eyes at Irene. “I’m on my way to pick up something. You didn’t think I would forget your birthday, love?” He had forgotten it, though. I was not the only one reading through his subterfuge. The man was a long strip of cellophane.

  Of course, I had nothing else on him. I did not see him at the gentlemen’s club like Claudia had. But it was that weakness hidden in his facial muscles—like when I had read the running-away look in my mother’s face—that gave him away. It came to me that in all my defense of him, Dwight Johnson was guilty as sin.

  “I’ll be right back, sugar love,” he said, opening his arms, drawing Irene into his embrace with the magical powers he still held over her. Then he left.

  Claudia fell onto the sofa, closing her eyes and pulling a pillow over her face

  “I’ll finish setting the table,” I said to Irene. “You were bighearted enough to cook your own birthday dinner, so I’ll do the rest.”

  “Okay then,” she said. “Claudia, you all right?”

  Claudia did not open her eyes. But she did say, “Mother, where’s Daddy gone to?”

  “Picking up my birthday present, hon.” She applied furniture polish to her coffee table and wiped off yesterday’s prints. “I can’t guess what it is this year.”

  “Do you believe he remembered?” asked Claudia.

  I stiffened, not wanting Claudia to ruin the night.

  But Irene misinterpreted her question as a statement. “I know, can you believe it?” she laughed and went upstairs to shower.

  “If I don’t tell her soon, I’ll explode,” said Claudia, the pillow still over her face.

  I was relieved Irene had gone upstairs. I lay down the last rolled up napkin and the flat wear. “I wish I could make our tabletop look like your mother’s. She has just the right things to do the job right. She’s so, so elegant.” I could hardly breathe what with Claudia teetering on spilling her guts.

  “I don’t know how long I can go on pretending,” she said.

  “I hate it all. He’s such a good daddy to you,” I said, plopping down on the other end of the sofa at her feet.

  “He’s a good provider. It’s not the same, not like your family.” She pulled an afghan over herself, curling up with her nose tucked under the spread.

  “The Currys are no example either.”

  She rolled onto her back, looking straight at me. “Do you really think your family is as messed up as mine?”

  I felt a catch in my throat. Any mention of Alice would be like flipping the latch on a very small hook. What tumbled out after that could never be put back.

  “Everything turns out right for you,” she said.

&nb
sp; “You’re just in a mood, is all.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t end up with everything you want.”

  “Nobody gets it all.”

  “Rich Drake. He’s yours for the asking.”

  “I didn’t ask for that.”

  “Smart Billy then. I saw how he nearly killed Drake for kissing you. Everybody saw that. It was all anyone talked about.”

  “You misunderstood then, along with everyone else.”

  She returned to her own miserable state. “I get everything handed to me. You get everything you want. Things always turn out good for you. I ask myself all the time, why is that? Why does Flannery get all she asks for?”

  “Do you now?” I thought she was being funny.

  “Would you sleep with Billy if he asked?”

  She could be so exasperating. “I’m not talking to you, how about the rest of the night?”

  “He’s athletic and all,” she said, absorbed in her fantasy. “Like Drake. I’d take Drake, in a heartbeat.”

  “Don’t get mixed up with Drake. He’s not a good guy. He’ll take advantage and you’d be sorry in the long run.”

  “You’re such a good girl,” she said, but flippant, not in any way flattering me, of course. She would never be guilty of that.

  “Stop taunting me or I’ll go home,” I said quietly. I rolled out my sleeping bag on my end of the oversized sofa. I had promised to sleep over but she was making me regret it.

  “Hm. You’re cranky as a wet hen. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re hiding something.” She finally divulged what she had wanted to say all afternoon. “I saw you and Billy out by the pool, all snug and sitting next to each other with your shoes off. You’re keeping a secret, aren’t you?”

  “Just yours. Now leave me alone,” I said.