Page 43 of How to Dance

“Joan’s brother’s kid was in the Army, ended up with something like that,” Bill said.

Joan nodded solemnly. “Got shot in the leg.”

What was the appropriate reaction to something like that? Should he look sad? Interested? Nick tried for attentive and felt his shoulders tighten up. Why did people assume all cripples were the same? He’d been born early, for shit’s sake—how could he relate to a soldier who’d put himself in harm’s way for his country? He was sitting in a room full of people so much more talented than he was, Linda couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge his disability in front of him, and now these people thought they knew him because their fucking nephew got shot?

Hayley clasped his hand under the table.

“That must have been horrible,” she said. “I’m so grateful for good doctors when I hear stories like that.”

Nick forced himself not to look at her. Hayley talked earnestly with Bill and Joan about doctors, about Joan’s huge family and her nephew’s recovery, and the older couple relaxed under the warmth of the care and sympathy in her eyes. Hayley squeezed Nick’s hand in hers, then let it go.

There wasn’t a spotlight when Linda Brandazzio took the stage, and the lights in the room didn’t dim. In fact, if the house music hadn’t abruptly ended, Nick might not have realized Linda was there at all. Her shirt was cyan; the only parts of her wardrobe that set her apart from the Vivez servers were her black high heels and the microphone in her hand.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Vivez Dance!” The room applauded enthusiastically. “We’re thrilled to have a sold-out house tonight for the premiere of our show, Summer Dreams. I’d like to take this time to thank our sponsors, whose kind contributions make it possible for us to share our joy and passion with you.”

Nick glanced over at Hayley while Linda ran down the list of contributors. She grinned at him; he grinned back.

“We’ve got a lot of people behind this curtain who can’t wait to spend time with you,” Linda was saying, “and tonight it’s ourpleasure to introduce Mr. Kevin Albee. Please welcome him to the family, and enjoy our summer dreams!”

More applause, and Linda slipped behind the curtain. The lights went out. The curtain went up.

Spotlights hit the stage.

Nick had never seen anything like it.

He’d thought he was prepared since he’d spent the last week literally watching the show come together. But all of the efforts of the cast and crew had coalesced into something that came alive under the bright lights, something more reciprocal and intimate than any play or concert he’d seen. These people loved what they did, and that love was at its peak when an audience got to participate. Not only that, but Nickknewthese people. He was part of the family, and he was overwhelmed by the pride that welled in him when he watched Calvin do a backflip, or Mimi belt out a song. He was contributing to the energy of the show just by watching.

Kevin took the stage for the first-act finale. They’d brought a sturdy wooden picnic table to the stage, the kind that had bench seats connected to it, the kind Nick struggled with because it wasn’t possible to slide his knees under the table from the side. Kevin dominated the damn thing, tap dancing from the floor to the bench to the table and back again. It would have been enough to hit all the right steps, but Kevin Albee knew how to play to a room. His athleticism mixed with his charisma so well that Nick didn’t have it in him to be jealous. Here was a dance partner worthy of Hayley Burke.

Nick couldn’t think of any use she would have for someone who struggled to sit at a picnic table.

12

Hayley nudged Nick playfully when the house lights went up for intermission.

“What’d you think?” she asked him.

Nick was staring at the lowered curtain. “I thought it was great.”

“You look like maybe you found your joy.”

Without looking at her, he said, “This is what you did. At your old job.”

“Yeah,” she said. Then, quieter, “Only they all look like they’re having fun.”

“You and Kevin.” She wasn’t sure he’d heard her. Nick seemed to speak more to himself than her, awe in his voice. “I’ll bet you brought down the house every night.”

She leaned toward him. “Nick …”

“How’re y’all liking the show?” Calvin had appeared, apparently none the worse for wear after an hour’s worth of onstage exercise. “How many times did you have to tell Nick to shut up?”

“Dude.” Nick had snapped out of his fog. “That was amazing.”

Cal waited. “And?”

“No joke, man. Really, really good.”

Cal broke into a grin. “Thank you, brother!” He started gathering up empty bottles from the table. “Normally there’s a joke,” he explained to the rest of them. “Like, ‘Hey, Cal, it was really amazing how you didn’t screw up.’”

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