Dead Man Dancing

Fifteen

‘A nose job on a nine-year-old, can you believe it?’

‘Stop sputtering, Hannah, and hand me the pliers, will you?’

I handed Paul the pliers with one hand while steadying the ladder he was standing on with the other. ‘And you know what else?’

‘What?’ he mumbled around a mouthful of screws.

‘I always thought Tessa’s hair was improbably thick. Well, yesterday I found out why.’

Paul lowered his hand and snapped his fingers silently. ‘Bulb.’

I handed him a 100-watt bulb.

‘OK, I give up, why?’ He tucked the new bulb under his arm and handed me the dead one.

‘Hair extensions, and a really first-rate job of it, too,’ I said, grasping the old bulb gingerly by the screw end where it wasn’t so generously encrusted with fried insect carcasses.

Paul finished screwing the fresh bulb into the socket of the light fixture in the ceiling of our entrance hall, replaced the globe, then climbed carefully down from the ladder. ‘Don’t get your undies in a twist about the hair extensions, Hannah. Hair extensions are reversible. The nose job, though, is another matter.’ He collapsed the ladder and started lugging it toward the basement. ‘But, what reputable plastic surgeon is going to perform a nose job on a child?’

‘I’ve heard there are surgeons in Brazil who’ll do anything.’

In fact, I had a friend who took a ‘cosmetic vacation’ to Rio de Janeiro – the Face Lift and Tango Package – and came home with a new face and a Brazilian boyfriend, all for less than five thousand dollars.

Paul leaned the ladder against the wall, and locked his dark brown, no-nonsense eyes on mine. ‘Tessa is not your child, Hannah. This is not your problem.’

‘I know I need to let it go,’ I admitted. ‘But nothing’s going to stop me from composing letters to Child Protective Services in my head.’

‘My advice, sweetheart? Put it out of your mind.’

But I couldn’t.

That night I dreamed the mother of one of Tessa’s pint-sized rivals hired a hit man to bump off Shirley, believing that Tessa would be so upset about her mother’s death that she would bag the Tiny Ballroom competition. Instead, Tessa, in the weird, meandering way of dreams, ended up waltzing with a miniature Hutch for the Shall We Dance? auditions, while Melanie and Tom eloped to Vegas in an airplane piloted by Kay, leaving Jay to comfort Laurie in her tear-stained peach gown.

Ancient Romans sometimes submitted their dreams to the Senate for analysis and interpretation, believing dreams were messages from the gods.

If that was the case, I was keeping this dream entirely to myself.

Epiphany.

The Three Wise Men.

The true gift of the Magi, Pastor Eva once preached, was the revelation that the child born of Mary in Bethlehem was the Son of God, His gift to all the world. As Christians, she said, we are reminded to seek enlightenment during this season.

I was all for enlightenment, but no amount of study or thought had thrown any light on who had attacked Ruth and why. So while I waited for an epiphany, either my own or on the part of the police, I used the day like everyone else to take down the Christmas decorations and burn the tree.

The following day – Tango Monday – was lesson five. After a family dinner chez moi of Hurry-Up Chili and tossed salad, we shoehorned Ruth into the car – front passenger seat slid way back, left leg fully extended – Daddy, Neelie, and I climbed into the back, and Paul drove us to J & K. Hutch had gone ahead to get in some practice time with Melanie. It was only a ten-minute drive, but long enough that sandwiched as I was in the back directly behind Ruth with my knees folded up to my chin like an accordion I feared I wouldn’t be able to walk when I got out, let alone dance.

Feet all pins and needles, I limped in.

Something was out of whack; I sensed it. The studio looked normal enough, I suppose, but it felt as if I’d interrupted something, like ‘OK folks, knock it off, company coming, everyone look natural’.

Chance, looking very bodybuilder slash surfer dude in a Blue Man Group T-shirt tucked into Levi slims, had cued up a waltz – ‘Are You Lonesome Tonight?’ – but nobody was dancing.

I hadn’t laid eyes on Kay for weeks so I was pleasantly surprised to see her there. She was dressed for success in a dark blue business suit, an ivory-colored blouse, dark hose and Ferragamo pumps. Clipboard in hand, she leaned against one of the EV speakers while talking with Hutch and with Melanie, who wasn’t paying attention.

I’d have expected to find Tom and Laurie perfecting their waltz, but they were sprawled on a mat in the corner, doing stretches, acting cool.

And sitting on a bench near the office, bookended by Shirley and Jay, was Tessa looking sulky, her little legs dangling, knocking the heels of her silver Capezios together.

In contrast, the grown-ups on both sides laughed, Jay’s head thrown back in full-blown, open-mouthed guffaw; Shirley, more modest, head down, shoulders quietly shaking.

I handed Paul my coat to hang up along with his, then wandered casually over for a second look at Tessa, which confirmed my first impression. No lumps, no bumps, not tip-tilted, crooked or pug. Tessa’s nose was perfectly aquiline, with the merest hint of a tilt at its tip. Miley Cyrus should be paying a plastic surgeon for a nose half as fine as Tessa’s and not the other way around. Perhaps Chloe had misunderstood.

Whatever I imagined had been going on just minutes before in the studio, our group’s arrival seemed to have broken the spell. Tom and Laurie, wearing their trademark black and white, rolled up the exercise mats and quickly took the floor. Laurie had replaced her red scarf with one in iridescent green, selected to coordinate (I felt certain) with her bright emerald shoes. As they waltzed, the scarf billowed behind her, like an ocean wave.

Daddy and Neelie were waltzing expertly, too, gazing into each other’s eyes. Daddy was singing along to the words, ‘Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and bare…’ and I gulped, trying to swallow the lump that had risen in my throat. It had been several long years since my mother’s death. Daddy’d met Cornelia at my sister’s shop and they’d been dating semi-steadily ever since. He responded to her offbeat sense of humor; my sisters and I liked her, too. Whether marriage was in the future or not, nobody knew. We were simply glad to see him happy.

While I waited for Paul, who had nipped into the restroom, I decided to say hello to Kay. ‘I hope I’m not interrupting anything important.’

Kay smiled back. ‘We’re just getting our ducks in a row for the Shall We Dance? casting call.’ She tipped the clipboard in my direction so I could see the sheaf of forms attached to it. ‘Fortunately, both our candidates seem to qualify.’

‘You have to be a US citizen or legal resident,’ Melanie explained. ‘They had some trouble last year with a finalist whose green card had expired.’ She laughed. ‘No problem with that here.’

Hutch frowned. ‘As I was saying, Kay, I’d like to take those forms home and go over them, particularly the release. If I’m reading it correctly, it gives the CNT producers permission to do anything they want with our audition, even if it embarrasses the hell out of us.’

Kay stared. ‘I don’t think that’s negotiable, Hutch. You either sign the release or forget about auditioning.’

‘Once a lawyer, always a lawyer,’ I cut in.

Melanie wrinkled her nose. ‘Last season they videotaped this couple, and the girl was so nervous she threw up all over her partner! You’d think the producers would edit that out of the tape, but no! They actually showed her throwing up.’ She stuck out her tongue. ‘Then they further humiliated the poor thing by blasting her lack of experience.’ She tapped Kay’s arm. ‘You saw it, Kay. What’d that awful judge say? Something like how it made him sick to his stomach to watch her lousy dancing?’

‘Seems like a cheap way to get a laugh,’ I said.

Hutch agreed. ‘Well, neither Melanie nor I is going to throw up, I assure you. And they’re certainly not going to say we’re lousy dancers. We might not make the cut, but if you have to act like an nincompoop in order to see yourself on television… well, we’ll just say thanks, grab the souvenir T-shirt and get outa’ there.’

Kay squeezed the clip, slid the application forms off her clipboard and handed them to Hutch. ‘Remember, you need to set aside three days for this. If you make it through day one, there may be a call back.’

Hutch fanned through the pages, divided them, and gave half to Melanie. ‘That’s not a problem for me. Melanie?’

Melanie shook her head.

Kay blew a sigh of relief. ‘Well, that’s it then. The only thing left to talk about is your costumes.’

I had hoped that by arriving early, we’d get a sneak preview of Hutch and Melanie’s routine. Hutch had been maddeningly hush-hush about it, forming a cross with his index fingers when I asked, and saying, ‘Jinx, jinx!’ What with maneuvering Ruth and her unresponsive leg into the car, we’d arrived too late for a preview, of course, but if I managed to get Melanie alone, I planned to pump her.

They’d be dancing a tango, that’s all we knew.

In the alcove behind us, Chance flipped a couple of switches and ‘Hello Young Lovers’ came wafting out of the nearby speakers, presumably the last selection of the practice session before Alicia arrived to turn us into tangoing fools. I felt a hand on my shoulder, Paul’s breath warm on my ear. ‘May I have this dance?’

I slid into my husband’s arms and waited, counting along with him – one-two-three, one-two-three – until, whoosh, we were off, whirling in a surprisingly competent way counter-clockwise around the floor. ‘You’ve been practicing,’ I accused Paul as he expertly avoided a collision with Daddy and Neelie who were, quite frankly, paying more attention to one another than to the line of the dance.

‘Not really,’ Paul said a bit breathlessly. ‘It just suddenly clicked. I think I’ve got it.’

I locked my jaw and said, ‘Oy think he’s gaw’tit.’

‘At least until Mizz Alicia shows up to browbeat us into the tango,’ Paul panted, leading me gracefully around the next corner.

‘I feel like Cinderella at the ball!’ I giggled as we spun past Tessa’s mother, circled around Daddy and Neelie again, then took off on a diagonal, following Tom and Laurie. It was exhilarating and, like Cinderella, I didn’t want the ball to end.

I was so preoccupied that I didn’t even wonder what had happened to Tessa, until I saw her, and stumbled.

‘What’s the matter?’ asked Paul as he skipped a beat to catch up.

‘Over there,’ I muttered without moving my lips. ‘Tessa and Jay.’

It was just like my dream, but instead of dancing with Hutch, Tessa was dancing with Jay. As Paul continued waltzing me around, I thought I’d get whiplash trying to keep my eyes on the pair.

Jay towered over the girl, but bent himself almost double in order to take her right hand in his left; Tessa’s left hand rested gracefully on his right forearm. As they waltzed, Jay adjusted his steps to match hers, taking mincing steps, as if his pants were too tight. It looked painful.

As I watched them dance, I had to admit that Tessa was good, really good. Shirley Douglas had every right to sit on the sidelines and beam, as I could see she was doing out of the corner of my eye.

As the music ended, Jay twirled Tessa several times under his arm, then keeping a firm grip on her hand, escorted Tessa back to her mother.

‘Was I good, Mommy?’ Tessa chirped.

I couldn’t hear Shirley’s reply, but she patted her daughter’s cheek. A split second later, Tessa turned and flounced off to the dressing room, her plaid skirt swishing around her thighs.

Jay, still standing with his back to me, began talking to Shirley, whose face grew suddenly serious.

I was trying to decide whether to eavesdrop on Jay and Shirley or dash off to the dressing room and corner a guileless nine-year-old when Kay popped out of the office, clipboard clutched to her chest. If looks had been arrows, Jay would have been instantly dead, pierced through head, neck and heart, and bleeding profusely. Kay turned on her sensible heels and stalked back into the office.

‘What’s that all about?’ I asked Hutch who had come up to join us.

‘I don’t know. Melanie was here earlier. Why don’t you ask her?’

I looked around. ‘Where’d she go?’

Hutch pointed toward the dressing room.

I was in luck. Tessa and Melanie. Two birds with one stone?

I trotted off to the dressing room where I found Tessa exchanging her Capezios for black and white saddle shoes. Since Melanie couldn’t escape from the ladies’ room without passing us by, I plopped down on the bench next to Tessa and watched silently while with tongue-protruding concentration, Tessa tightened the laces, tied her shoes.

‘I like those silver shoes,’ I said as Tessa tucked them into her dance bag. ‘And the red ones you wore last week were also very pretty.’

Tessa grinned. ‘I have silver jazz shoes, too, and pink Latin salsas.’ She stuck out a foot. ‘These look like my hip hop shoes, but they don’t have split soles.’

‘What’s a split sole?’ I asked, smiling, picturing the devil perched on my left shoulder arguing with an angel hovering over my right.

‘It’s in two parts. You can point easier.’

‘Oh, I see,’ I said, although I didn’t really. ‘Laurie Wainwright has a lot of gorgeous shoes. Did you see the green ones she’s wearing today?’

Tessa’s eyes narrowed and she said in a conspiratorial tone, ‘My mommy says a girl can never have too many pairs of dancing shoes.’

Words to live by.

‘Well, bye!’ Tessa snatched up her bag and before I could say ‘bye-bye’ myself, she’d disappeared through the door.

I was sitting on the bench cataloging my shoe collection – which didn’t take long – when Melanie came out of the bathroom, drying her hands on a paper towel. ‘Are you all right, Hannah? You look lost in thought.’

‘I was,’ I said, being careful to face Melanie head on. ‘I was just wondering why women are so enamored of shoes. My grandfather used to say, what’s the point, Hannah? You can wear only one pair at a time.’

‘By that logic, you should own only one light bulb and simply carry it around the house, screwing it in wherever you need it to see.’

‘Or one chair!’ I hooted. I patted the bench next to me. ‘Speaking of chairs, sit down for a minute. There’s something I want to ask you.’

Melanie sat and raised a curious eyebrow.

‘Out there a minute ago? Kay came out of the office and cut Jay dead. And earlier, when we first came in, I thought the atmosphere was a bit, um, thick?’

‘I didn’t catch all of it,’ Melanie explained, ‘but while Hutch and I were waiting for Kay to bring out the forms, she got hung up in the office with Jay. I could see only her part of the conversation, but I think they were having an argument.’

‘About what?’

Melanie shrugged. ‘I’m not sure; depends upon what was on the printout Kay balled up and tossed at his head. I saw her say, “How do you explain this?” If it was a bank statement or spreadsheet or something, then they might have been arguing about money.’ Melanie paused, wrinkling her nose in concentration. ‘But it could just as easily have been an anonymous email.’ She laughed. ‘You know, “If you wonder what your husband is doing on Wednesday nights when you think he’s at choir practice, check out Room 221 of the Quality Inn in Glen Burnie. Signed, A Friend.”’

‘Sometimes I wish I had taken a class in lip-reading rather than ASL,’ I chuckled. ‘It’s a skill that could come in handy.’

‘Yes, indeed.’ Melanie’s eyes went on scan, as if checking the room for bugs. ‘Ever curious about what Hillary Clinton said to her aide before stepping up to the podium at the debates?’

I nodded vigorously.

She leaned toward me and whispered. ‘Find Bill in whatever hotel room he’s in and hide him somewhere until the fucking campaign is over!’

I laughed so hard I was gasping for breath. ‘You’re making that up!’

Melanie grinned. ‘I am, alas. But it could happen.’

Melanie and I were still giggling when Laurie burst through the door, breathing heavily. She bowed at the waist, and rested her hands on her knees. ‘Anybody who tells me it’s the guy who does all the work in a lift, I’m going to pop ’em one on the side of the head.’

I’d watched Laurie and Tom practice ‘swallow’ lifts – she’d take a running leap into his arms and he’d raise her overhead with her back arched, legs straight, arms extended like wings. If Tommy miscalculated… well, it was a long way for Laurie to fall.

‘I remember that move from the end of Dirty Dancing,’ I said. ‘Looks dangerous. Baby and Johnny practiced in a lake.’

‘I wish,’ Laurie panted. She crossed to her locker and wrenched the door open. Using both hands, she grabbed the hem of her shirt, whipped it off over her head, and used it to wipe the sweat from her face. ‘Whew! I’m ripe!’

‘Not so you’d notice,’ I said, taking a moment to loosen the buckles on the T-strap heels I’d bought especially for dancing.

‘Shower free?’

‘Think so. Want me to look?’

Next to me Melanie said, ‘I’ll check.’

In a moment Melanie was back. ‘Someone’s just finishing up in there, but the communal shower room is free and clear.’

Laurie groaned. ‘Not for me, girl. I’ve never bought into that Save Water, Shower with a Friend gig.’ She removed a fresh towel from her locker and draped it around her neck. ‘I’ve seen all the pitiful tits, asses, thongs and tattoos I need to in life, thank you very much.’

As I considered Laurie’s remark, I realized I hadn’t used a communal shower since sometime before my mastectomy. The plastic surgeon had done a masterful job of recreating my missing breast, considering the limited material he had to work with. But, outside the confines of my underwear, I was more than a bit lopsided, and my reconstructed nipple tended to point north rather than south.

Needless to say, Playboy magazine wouldn’t be calling to set up a photo shoot any time soon, and I didn’t think anyone else would appreciate a close-up view of my off-kilter anatomy either. Thankfully, Paul didn’t seem to mind.

Laurie padded past me barefoot in her underwear – blue denim boxer-style briefs and a matching lace-trimmed bra – and leaned against the tiles next to the private shower-room door. ‘Besides,’ she caroled back, her voice echoing hollowly from wall to wall, ‘in a minute I’ll be surrounded by munchkins in tutus, and I’m not going to strip off in front of them.’

Melanie, who had been quiet up to this point, screwed up her mouth. ‘I don’t like community showers much, either. You can pick up all kinds of diseases in there. Legionnaires’, athletes’ foot, plantar warts, ringworm…’

Alicia poked her head into the room, a welcome interruption to Melanie’s litany of disease. ‘Ladies, we’re waiting for you!’

‘Why?’ Melanie wanted to know.

I stood up and tapped my heels together experimentally. ‘They want us to tango.’

‘Oh, good! Hutch and I will be practicing with you tonight.’ Melanie leapt to her feet. ‘You’ll love the tango, Hannah. It’s so sexy! Let me show you.’ She demonstrated the steps, dancing slowly around the dressing room. ‘Slow, slow, quick-quick, slow. Slow, slow, quick-quick, slow!’

I copied her as closely as I could, but stumbled on the last quick-quick-slow.

‘It might help to remember it this way: walk, walk, tango-close,’ Melanie said, demonstrating the steps as she talked.

Alicia opened the door and sing-songed, ‘La-dies, we are wait-ing!’

‘OK,’ I yelled, and the two of us scurried out.

I found Paul, Melanie found Hutch, Daddy and Neelie were holding hands, ready to go. Ruth still sat on a bench, her broken leg propped up on a chair, drinking a Diet Coke from a can, and there was no sign of Shirley or her daughter.

I expected Alicia to be teaching the session with Chance, but when Chance cued up ‘Olé Guapa’ and hurried out on to the floor, Jay materialized out of nowhere and waved him aside.

‘Caminar es todo! The walk is everything,’ Jay announced, taking Alicia’s hand.

I watched Chance back off the dance floor, darkly scowling. When Jay wasn’t looking, he shot a bird at his back.

‘What’s that all about?’ Paul wondered aloud.

I squeezed his hand. ‘Tonight it appears we’re getting the A-team.’