Page 12 of Grateful in Watch Hill
“People are still ordering in, even though things are more open now. They like the convenience of it, and some of the other contractors don’t like to work on Sunday mornings. They say it’s not worth their time.”
“Any chance to make a buck is worth your time.”
“Exactly.”
I slung my tote bag over my shoulder. It was French, and made of a soft, buttery leather that complemented the gold hardware detailing. I remembered buying it in NYC right after American Dance Company announced me as a principal—it had been a reward for all the hard work I’d put in to make it that far. At the time, I’d barely noticed the $400 price tag, but now it seemed like such a stupid indulgence, a relic of a careless and carefree life that I’d never lead again.
“I’ll text you if I get held up,” I told Dad before I slipped out the back door.
I logged on to the app moments later, but my suspicions were correct. In three hours, I only made four deliveries, and all of them for orders that amounted to less than twenty dollars. It ended up mainly being a mindless morning spent roaming the streets around the outskirts of Cincinnati while listening to the weekly pop-chart countdown on the radio.
And then a text hit my phone around noon.
The incoming message caused the FoodSwap app to crash, and I ripped the phone off its charger to see what had happened.
A message from Nancy Smith awaited me.
I couldn’t open it fast enough. Nancy Smith was one of the best-known dancers in the region, and she ran a large dance studio in Cincinnati’s Hyde Park. She started it after retiring from the Cincinnati Ballet, and the students who came out of her studio often went on to some of the country’s most elite programs. I would have loved to attend her school during my childhood and teenager years, but we couldn’t afford the tuition.
How did I wind up on her radar?
I didn’t have any clue.
Kendra, I’m looking to expand the hip-hop and modern dance programs at my studio in the coming weeks now that people are reopening, and I was hoping to discuss the idea with you. I came across your contact information in your résumé, and I wondered if you’d be kind enough to send along the rest of your credentials, as well as more about your time in New York. Best—Nancy Smith
Excitement and anticipation pulsed through me when I finished the message. Here it was—the chance I’d been waiting for these last few months, an opportunity that looked more like the sunrise after a long, dark night.
Could Nancy Smith and her dance studio be my way out and allow me to continue doing what I loved—while making moneyandbuilding a viable future?Please, God.
After a few minutes of steeling myself, I opened the reply box and typed out a few words.
Conversation started. Couldn’t have asked for a better one.
SIX
SETH
