Page 84 of The Way We Dance

Ty: Promise?

Giselle: Yes. I want to see you but I know you are busy. I have been watching the games, by the way.

Ty: Have you seen me dance?

Giselle: Every week, Mr. Touchdown Man.

Ty: You ain't seen nothing yet….

I closed my phone and shook my head at him and myself. I missed him so much. I was so thankful that I was ready to move forward. Ready to talk this all out and not be a depressed victim anymore.

I moved along with my day, tending to everything I needed to do. I even had lunch delivered and ate a huge sandwich with greasy fries. My mother tsk’d at me for that, like I had said, she wasn't an entirely new woman. I just shrugged and told her I felt like celebrating.

Later that evening, the advanced class showed up and mom told me to wait in the office while they prepared everything. I could hear the giggles of the kids and my mother telling them where to stand. That meant the door was open to the studio because if it had been closed, I wouldn't have heard much.

Finally, Mrs. Watson popped her head into the office and asked for a minute with me. She rounded my desk and hugged me, letting me know when she heard the news it was like hearing another one of her kids being hurt.

I asked about Reggie, but she didn't want to talk about it. She said she was thankful I was ok and that I was coming back. She even told me she made herself the unofficial door locker when she came into the studio, so that she knew everyone had that barrier of safety.

Guilt that I never told the parents coursed through me. Just another one of my failures and being too worried about the loss of income from fear. Yet, it was also a learning experience for me and one I would carry into the next chapter of running Brisé.

Mrs. Watson’s phone chirped after a few minutes and she looked up. “They’re ready for us.”

I tilted my head and smiled. Must have been some production to have her back here to stall me and then get me out there on time.

I waved off her offer to help me walk and made my way into the studio. The parents were all seated behind the glass and the door was still open, most likely so they could hear the music during rehearsals.

Mrs. Watson led me to a chair inside the studio and told me to sit down. As I got settled, I looked around and noticed the accordion walls that mom must have moved into place. The kids were all behind the walls and I knew it was supposed to help them mimic the curtain on the stage.

My mother waltzed out and presented the class to me before taking her place next to me to watch and guide them as they went.

The music started and what I thought was going to be a Christmas jingle was replaced by a guitar and notes I didn't recognize. I cringed a little, realizing mother did in fact redo some of the performance I had already started.

It was ok, I took a deep breath and knew that she had every right to make whatever changes she needed to make. This was her show at this point and if she wanted to change something, so be it.

Once the kids were all out and starting their first arabesque, movement from behind one of the accordion walls caught my attention and a man in tights jumped out in what ended up being an unremarkable jette’.

The surprise from him coming from nowhere had me scooting my chair back but it only took me seconds to recognize Ty. He was in all black—compression tights with suspenders. I am sure on a normal man, the tights were supposed to be to the ankles, but for Ty, they were mid-calf. He wore a black t-shirt under his suspenders which wasn't typical but I was sure it was a decision he made for modesty around the kids.

My jaw was dropped open and on the floor. I watched on as Ty did a series of moves that I had taught him and a few I hadn’t. Peeking up at my mother, she was smiling and had her fingers circling, reminding the kids to pirouette.

When my head stopped shaking and the shock of seeing Ty wore off, I realized that the music playing was the same song we slow-danced to in his apartment—Anymore. The lyrics were sad, but this version had taken the lyrics out and all that remained was the reminder of Ty and I dancing that night and the shift it created in our relationship.

Ty continued to dance behind the kids, looking awful but doing his best. The parents were all smiling and seemed like they knew this was going to happen. To top it off, my mother must have choreographed the whole thing.

Tears started prickling at my eyes, the moment almost too much for me to handle. I had so many questions and couldn’t wait for the music to end so that I could ask them.

As the music started slowing down, Ty and Sam took centerstage and did a brisé with their back feet extended and lifted perfectly. I definitely hadn’t taught Ty that and although I had worked with Sam on those, he had definitely honed his skills in the past few weeks.

In the end, Ty lined up with all my little dancers and took a bow, making me shove to my feet faster than I should have to give them a standing ovation. Luckily, my mother was beside me and grabbed my arm for balance.

She leaned in and whispered to me.

“Did I ever tell you how much I loved your father? That I tried to find him?”

I looked at her with shock in my eyes. She never spoke about my father. I knew his name and knew their story but that was the extent of it.

“I should have never ran away from him,” she finished, before walking away to congratulate the kids.

---