Hooked 4 (Hooked #4)(19)

I made up different steps; I leaped into the air and landed softly in a unique twirl. I felt the wave of the music around me—Mozart, then Handel. And I felt alive—as alive as I’d felt the evening before, when Drew and I had become a part of each other. When we had become one.

As I danced, a few of the on-lookers began to stop, to peer into the window and gaze at me. I hardly noticed them, of course. I continued to twirl, to wield myself gracefully with the music. I was dancing with all the passion I could possibly feel, from my toes to the tips of my fingers. Suddenly, I heard a banging on the window. I peered up and found some of the little girls from my six-year-old class peering in at me, laughing at me with such wild passion.

I leaped toward the door and opened it, allowing them to enter. They were wearing little dresses, and a few of them still had make-up on from the previous Halloween night. I didn’t give them any instructions. Rather, they began to do all the beautiful choreography I’d taught them during their young lives. They held in their giggles, and they twirled; they leaped. I could hardly stand it, but I kept dancing, not wanting to kill the magic.

A few moments later I heard the door open. Mel had come in, holding baby Jackson in one hand. In her other hand, she held the bell from the old reign of the dance studio. She placed it on the door and jangled it slightly, allowing me and the girls to cheer, leaping into the air. I called into the air: “MOLLY SAYS DANCE IS OPEN FOR BUSINESS!” And then I pushed my hands into the air many times. The girls followed my lead.


A few of the other girls from the neighborhood joined me, as well, allowing the bell to jangle each time. Some of them had been in my class before; some of them were strangers. But we all indulged our bodies in the glories of dance. A small girl came up to me and grabbed my hand, spinning beneath me like a tiny Cinderella. I peered up at Mel, shaking my head with incredulities. But Mel was busy talking to a parent, writing information down. This parent, I understood, wanted to get her daughter involved with dance class.

Mel nodded to me as the parent left with two of her daughters, holding up the paper. She grinned a wide grin. Jackson readjusted himself in her arms, bringing her to place him on the wooden floor where he bobbed his arms in time, dancing to the music.

“He’ll be a dancer, just like his momma!” I called to her.

“Or like his cousin!” She winked toward me as she took another parent’s number down. Everyone wanted dance lessons, suddenly. They couldn’t get enough of our passion.

The girls had begun to grow tired; some of them had fled to school. Mel had begun to dance alongside me, as well, showing some of the unique dance techniques she’d utilized in her day, at Loyola, when she’d been top-tier ballerina.

“I would have killed to see you on that stage,” I said to her, shaking my head back and forth. “God. You are incredible.”

She flapped her hand in front of her face, shaking her head. “If you think I’m good, you should look at yourself. You’re the most incredible performer I’ve ever seen. There was a reason you didn’t make it in the big leagues. These are the big leagues. Right here.” She gestured around her, nodding at all the young girls who danced, tossing their slim arms into the air and feeling the weight of the 400-year-old music.

I nodded, smiling at her. I didn’t realize there were tears in my eyes. Suddenly, I heard the bell jangle once more from the door. Thinking we had another young girl dancer, I spun around. But there, standing before us, was Drew. He was still wearing his construction hat; he was still covered in dust from the bricks, from the debris. He walked toward me, and the girls made a part in the great sea. They all snickered at him. He nodded at them, grinning. “All right, ladies. All right.”

He reached me. I found myself bringing my hand to his head to remove his hat. I brushed some of the grime from his face and nose.

“You’re looking quite rugged these days, Drew.”

But he brought his hands forth and reached down, holding me high in the air. In time to the music, we orchestrated our dance techniques from the previous night. He brought me in beautiful circles around his head and I allowed my limbs to glide gracefully. I landed back down on my feet and flung myself into many twirls, making the girls around me screech, wide-eyed. They loved the glamor of it—the drama.

Finally, my chest heaving, I leaned against him, looking up at this man. This man who was giving up so much of himself to be mine. “Thank you for the dance.”

“I’ll dance with you anytime you need,” he replied.

And then, to the shock of everyone, he leaned down and kissed me deeply on the lips. The light shone in from the streets; the Chicago traffic beeped and spurted outside. I wrapped my hand around his neck, and I felt his beating heart within his chest. He brought his head back once more, and rubbed his nose on mine. “I love you,” he murmured.

“And I love you,” I whispered back.

The girls rushed off to school, thoughts of Molly Says Dance and romance swirling in their heads. Mel strapped Jackson into his carriage and walked through the park, filled with a sense of motherly bliss. And Drew and I—well. We went home. We were caught up in the mystery of each other. And that was enough.