Blind Kiss(8)

“Okay, cool. Let’s keep in touch.”

“Sure. Do you want to exchange numbers?”

“Yeah, let me see your cell phone. I’ll put my number in it.”

Embarrassed, I said, “Oh, I don’t have one. You’ll have to call my house number. Here, give me yours and I’ll put it in.”

“You don’t have a cell phone?” He was shocked as he handed over his.

“I’m probably gonna get one for Christmas.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll call your house then.”

“Cool, thanks again for the ride.”

The studio where I had practiced since I was a kid was starting to look run-down. It was in a small strip mall and the landlords hadn’t painted the exterior or trim in twenty years. It was brown and dingy, and several roof tiles were missing. Whenever it rained or snowed, which was a lot in the winter, there would be leaks, which damaged the hardwood dance floor. I wished Nancy, the owner, could get some help but she seemed so overwhelmed all the time.

I reached for the glass studio door but it wouldn’t budge. It was locked, though I could see Nancy inside at the front desk, talking to a man and a woman. She saw me, stood up, and came to let me in. “Sorry, Penny, just having a little meeting. Come in, come in.” I nodded at the man and woman as I headed for the locker room.

That day I practiced my grand jeté in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, a beautiful but difficult move in which the dancer leaps forward, legs turned out, hips squared, with the front leg pointed forward and the back leg turned upward. Everything has to come together; your shoulders have to be pulled back, your neck has to be long, and your arms, extended in clean, graceful lines. I leapt twice to get power and force off the ground. While I was in the air, Nancy walked the floor and yelled, “Extension, Penny!”

I hit the ground hard with a thud. Not very graceful.

“Again,” she said. “Again! Again!”

Each time it was getting better. I was feeling lighter and stronger and landing softer. My legs and feet were aching, but I wanted it to be perfect.

At the end of my practice, Nancy came up to me. “Great work today, Penny.”

“Thanks, Nance. See you next week.”

She smiled but said nothing.





4. Fourteen Years Ago


PENNY

At home that night I went down to our basement studio and practiced the grand jeté over and over. At some point my dad came in but I hadn’t noticed. The lights were dim and I was doing the jump with my eyes closed; I liked to practice that way to prepare for the effects of stage lighting. When I stopped the music, he was holding his hand to his cheek, sitting on the bottom stair. I couldn’t see his expression so I turned on the light. He was crying.

“Are you okay, Dad?”

“Ahh, I’m just old and emotional.”

“Tell me,” I said.

“You’re such a beautiful dancer. It takes my breath away.” He started tearing up again.

“God, you are getting old and mushy.” We both laughed. He used to be the funny guy, but he had been more sad than funny lately. “Is everything okay with you and Mom?”

He wiped tears from his face. “Why do you ask that?”

I gave him a look. “I don’t think you’re just crying in the dark because I’m a good dancer, Dad.”

“We’re fine, Sweet Pea. Marriages go through phases.”

“Dad, the pageant shit has to stop.”

“Penny,” he chided.

“I’m serious. She’s gonna screw up Kiki.”

“It’s all she has right now,” he argued.

“No. She has you and she has me.”

He smiled weakly. “Go get some rest, Penny. You need to eat dinner and then soak your feet. They look terrible.”

“Dancer’s feet, Dad.”

“Yeah, yeah, but they’re my baby girl’s feet.”


THE NEXT DAY I headed to Ling’s study, my stomach tied in knots. Why had I agreed to do it? Lapse in sanity, I guess. But I had promised Ling, so after Professor Douglas’s dance class, I showered, dried my hair, brushed my teeth, and dabbed on a bit of lip gloss before heading to Clark. I was wearing jeans, my UGG slippers, and a hoodie from my old dance studio. It was a blind kiss, after all; it’s not like I had to impress anyone with my fashion choices.

Once I got there, I knocked on the classroom door. Ling answered without a word and ushered me in. There were four girls all chatting next to a table of juice and cookies.

“Go ahead and have a snack.” Ling leaned in and whispered near my ear. “I have a flask with rum in it, if you want.” Why did everyone in college drink rum? It has to be the most disgusting liquor. Also, Ling was more nervous than usual, which made me more nervous.

I smiled. “No, thank you. I’ll just wait.”

There was a connecting room with paper covering the window in the door. Ling spoke to someone on a walkie-talkie and said, “Okay, ladies, we’re gonna go in and show you the studio. The boys are waiting in another room on the other side of the studio.” She pointed to each girl in front of me and said, “You’re one, you’re two, you’re three, you’re four, and Penny, you’re five. That’s the order you’ll go in.”