“Uh too late.” I held my breath as Philippe approached.
“Mr. Scott and Miss Chang, this is a dance studio not a talk show. And judging by my watch there’s still thirty minutes left to this class so focus, focus.” Philippe barked.
Turning to the others. “Splendid class. A little more practice and some of you will be world class dancers—maybe better than me someday.” He sarcastically encouraged them. “In your dreams!”
“Mr. Scott, Miss Chang, please come here.” Philippe motioned towards Lee an I. “Everyone meet our newest member, Alistair Scott.” The class applauded. “I would like the two of you to show me what you’ve got.”
“Philippe, Alistair and I are not ready for this.” Lee said nervously.
“That’s too bad Miss Chang. Since I, Philippe Beauvoir, own this establishment, I can do pretty much what I want.” Philippe sniggered. “Fabien, start the music!”
Gene Kelly’s 1952 hit Singing in the Rain played as Lee and I took the floor. Class members watched as the two of us danced in synchronization. When the music stopped everyone congratulated us, clapping loudly. Philippe shouted. “Enough!”
“That was truly remarkable Miss Chang and Mr. Scott. You two slithered romantically. I want you both to represent Beauvoir Dance Studio in the upcoming Fred Astaire National Dance Competition. I will not take no for an answer. I always get what I want.” Philippe insisted.
Something told me that Lee and I would have great difficulty denying his request. Before we could answer, Philippe handed us applications to enter the Fred Astaire Championship competition. He wanted us to sign the papers right there and then. However, we needed time to think about it. Lee’s spare time was limited.
---
Leaving the dance hall, I offered to buy tea at Double D’s for the two of us. Unsure of who and where Double D’s was, Lee hesitantly agreed to come along, but only if I would tell her who had taught me to dance. Harmonizing with Lee’s request, I went around the corner to pick up my car. Meanwhile, Lee used a nearby callbox to call her sister and tell her that she would be getting a ride home.
Minutes later, we pulled up in Dunkin Donuts’ small parking lot.
“So, this is Double D’s?” Lee laughed, lightheartedly amused.
I exited the driver’s side of the car to open the passenger door for Lee. Many people say chivalry is dead. But, I still believe it’s a sign of good manners. Inside the café, we both ordered hot tea with milk and sat by a large window to people-watch.
“Have you forgot your end of the deal?” Lee asked.
Eager to find out from who and where I learned to dance, Lee listened to the story of my brother Bradley and I growing up in the small town of Trowbridge Wiltshire. My mum and dad loved to dance, and we attended a local dance club as young boys. Bradley and I had no choice about going to Court Mills Center every Thursday night. At first, Bradley and I tried everything to get out of going. But, mum was never easily deluded. In the end, however, we grew to love dancing. My brother even met his wife Debbie who danced at the same club.
“That’s my story, do you have a reason why you love to dance?” I asked.
“My story is similar to yours. My parents loved dancing to western music. But in China, during that time, it was forbidden to have such things in your possession. There were very few places to go dancing, and to listen to American music like Nat King Cole, Ella Fitzgerald, Louie Armstrong and Glen Miller.”
“Mum and dad loved their music.” I interjected.
“Do your parents still dance?” Lee asked.
“Yes, they do. That’s what keeps them youthful.”
“Why didn’t they dance professionally?”
“Raising a family, among other things, got in the way. Actually, thinking about that helps me make a decision about my participation in this dance competition.”
“How has that helped you make up your mind?” Lee asked confused.
“My parents believe that people blessed with gifts should never keep it to themselves.”
Reaching into her bag, Lee pulled out two pens and handed one to me and kept the other for herself. We sat there drinking tea and writing before we left and headed for our separate destinations.
---
At 11:00 pm, I pulled up in front of Seven Bonnie Drive and Baldwin Harbor in
Long Island. The street was quiet with the exception of the slow moving vehicle tailing my rear. Its bright lights blinded me momentarily before passing by. Feeling confident from the ease of our chin-wagging, I asked Lee if she wanted to go for a trip to the city and pickup groceries on Myers and Keswick on Saturday. Her face lit up with delight. She asked what time I would be picking her up.
As I answered, a light in Lee’s house flickered on, revealing a shadowy figure in the background. Lee tilted her head forward and kissed me on the cheek before exiting the car. She walked up the short narrow pathway to the main entrance of her home. Opening the door with a key she retrieved from her handbag, Lee turned and causally waved before disappearing behind the closed door.
July 3, 1987
Philippe was more than enthusiastic after hearing the news that Lee and I would be participants in the Fred Astaire National Dance Championship. I prematurely dreaded the months of mindless behavior we would have to endure practicing with Philippe. I imagined endless routine steps, and being forced to listen to him constantly shouting at the top of his lungs. I visualized us rowing over rubbish. But, maybe I was jumping to conclusions. Regardless of what was playing out in my mind, however, I had made a commitment. And like it or not, there was no backing out at this point.
Besides, I’d never been one to quit easily. Mum and dad had taught my brother and me that if we wanted something in life, we had to work hard for it. There were no easy roads to success or greatness.
July 20, 1987
Seven Bonnie Drive looked more appealing during the day. Its display of wondrous flower arrangements hinted that someone in the Chang family had a passion for gardening. Purple lilacs, shrubs and trumpet shaped lilies gave the garden a desirable appearance, and contrasted the house’s red bricks.
After ringing the doorbell, an older Asian woman opened the door. At first I thought this to be Lee and Lacy’s older sister until the woman politely introduced herself as their mother. Judging by her appearance, life had been good to her. She welcomed me in.
“Hello Mrs. Chang, I’m Alistair.” I introduced myself.
“I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s a pleasure for us to finally meet.” She bowed in my direction.
“My daughter is upstairs getting ready. Wait in the living room, and I will let her know that you’re here.”
Walking into the sitting room, I admired its beautiful layout of oriental art and décor. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain strike the back of my leg. I quickly turned around to find the source of this pain. Behind me an elderly couple sat in lounge chairs, each holding a cane made of Chinese bamboo. My eye’s settled on the old man and woman as I rubbed the back of my leg.
“That hurt!” I winced.
“Stop being a baby.” the old man said laughing at me.
The old woman, who I assumed to be the old geezer’s wife, motioned for me to come closer so that she could get a better look at me. I cautiously inched forward. Suddenly, with lightening speed, she grabbed my hand, palm up. With a strong grip she gazed intensely at the lines in my hand.
“You’re going to do well in life. You must challenge all things that come fourth.” The old lady dropped my hand and turned to her husband, bowing her head in his direction.
The old man requested that I take a seat across from them. “What do we call you?” He asked.
“I’m Alistair.”
“This is my wife, Lilly, and I’m Willy. Why are you here?”
“Lee and I are going to the city.”
Willy looked at me strangely. “You better not try anything with my granddaughter, or the two of us will kill you.
Lilly hit me onc
e more with her cane. This was followed by a swift blow from Willy. I only had time to cower away.
“Did that hurt?” Willy laughed.
“Yes, that really bloody hurt!” Willy hit me with his cane once more.
“Don’t use words like that in my house! Now be very careful not to let your hormones get the best of you. If that happens, and she gets knocked up we will make sure you honor my granddaughter by marrying her.”
“I can assure you sir, nothing like that is going to happen.” I reassured them while I focused on their canes.
“Oh, why not? You think you’re too good for my granddaughter?” Willy waved his stick intimidatingly.
“No, it’s not that. I have a lot of respect for her.” I replied nervously.
“You better or else!” Willy yelled.
At that moment, the living room door opened and a middle-aged man silently walked inside.
“Hello sir, I’m Alistair.” I stood up offering my hand.
The man, who I assumed to be Lee’s father, intentionally disregarded my greeting. “I know who you are.” He replied curtly. “My daughter will be down shortly.” Lee’s father exited the room with a mean-spirited look on his face.
Moments later, the sound of distinctively familiar chatter grew increasingly loud and then abruptly stopped. The living room door opened and Lee appeared, asking if I was ready to leave. Our goodbyes fell on deaf ears. Lee’s guardians were too busy confabbing to notice our exit.
On our drive to Manhattan, Lee sat in silence; clearly unsettled. I knew that whatever was bothering her had transpired before we left Lee’s home.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Lee held her head in her hands, heavy with the matters of her mind. “My father’s absent-minded thinking upsets me. He speaks about having come to America because of his desire to better serve his family and leave behind old China. But, he’s only interested in what best suits him.”
“When it comes to a father and his little girl it’s hard to let go.” I offered.
“It’s much more than that. He thinks that the combination of our different cultures and backgrounds will only lead to regret and sadness.”
“Most people have poor judgment of others, especially when they’re trying to make decisions for others. You really have to sit back and listen to what your heart is saying, because usually your heart will give you the right answer.”
“Thank you for being so understanding and compassionate Alistair.” Lee smiled.
“You are very welcome. Just know that I’m here for you.” Feeling buoyant after our momentary connection, I asked Lee if she wanted to accompany me to Ronnie and Carlene’s wedding. Enchanted, Lee gladly accepted my request.
We spent the remainder of our day down by the pier, after our shopping trip for Cornish pasties.
August 1, 1987
On the day of the wedding, Lee sat in the front pew gazing at me as I stood on line with the other groomsmen. She looked unquestionably dazzling in a purple Vera Wang, strapless dress that outlined her curves. When the minister consummated the reading of the vows by officially declaring Ronnie and Carlene man and wife, the crowd cheered loudly. The happy couple proceeded down the aisle and I, Lee and the other churchgoers trailed behind, showering them with grains of rice.
---
Ronnie and his new wife entered the reception hall from the rear entrance. Inside, waitrons served drinks and baskets of yeast rolls to each table. This was followed by a fresh appetizer salad and an ambrosial Trinidadian main dish called pelau made of chicken and vegetables.
Peter stood up and tapped his glass with a knife, signaling that the groomsmen had a speech to present to the married couple. I felt the sudden urge to crawl under my seat after having been put on the spot. However, I stood up and rose to the occasion speaking from my heart.
“Love is something that most of us spend a lifetime searching for. Ronnie and Carlene have found that love, and have vowed to cherish and make the best of it.” I cleared my throat. “When I look at Ronnie and Carlene my longing for love grows because I see how it brings the best out in both of them. I’m hoping and praying that some day we all find a love as fearless and rewarding as theirs. Please join me in raising our glasses in celebration of Mr. and Mrs. Parris.”
The reception guests raised their glasses and toasted to Ronnie and Carlene’s love.
“See, there was nothing to worry about, Alistair. You truly spoke with great fervor.” Peter smiled nudging me.
Lee’s soft hand touched mine, conveying her mutual appeal towards love and my best man speech.
The deejay requested that Mr. and Mrs. Parris come to the dance floor, as he played Luther Vandross’ Here and Now. After their dance, Lee and I joined the other wedding guests for a dance to the Whispers’ I’m Going to Make You My Wife. Embracing Lee closely, I hummed along softly in her ear.
“Are you trying to tell me something Alistair?”
“What might that be?” I smiled.
“I’m going to make you my wife?” Lee asked.
“Well, that would be difficult since I’m a man and not a woman.” I said sarcastically.
“I’m referring to you humming those words to me, silly.” Lee giggled, hitting my arm playfully.
“I’ll have to keep you guessing on that one. But, you never know what the future holds.” I winked.
Lee held me tightly expressing her fondness for our being together. After dancing, we watched the bride and groom travel to each table accepting gifts and thanking family and friends for making their day special. Peter and I surprised Ronnie and Charlene with a two-week trip to Hawaii. They were beyond delighted. The rest of the evening was filled with electric love and positive energy.
October 17, 1987
It was time to put our fears and doubts aside. After months of rehearsing and perfecting incorrect steps under Philippe’s demand, it was finally the big night. Philippe’s three teams of dancers arrived in style at the competition. Our limo pulled up at the entrance of Madison Square Garden as countless stars and invitees combed the building. As we exited the limo, media cameras and paparazzi swooped in snapping photos from every angle.
Philippe led us through a set of double doors with the help of a doorman. My palms started sweating. My nervous thoughts were abruptly interrupted by Philippe verbally bashing a giant man for calling us guests instead of professional dancers. Lee and I smirked at Philippe’s conceited behavior towards a man who towered over and easily outweighed him by at least a hundred pounds.
“Okay ladies and gentleman, please come with me.” Philippe motioned us to follow.
“Is he your instructor?” The checkpoint security guard asked pointing towards Philippe.
“Yes, he is. Why do you ask?” I stopped to answer.
“With an instructor like that, you better win or I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes. Good luck out there.”
“Thank you.” I ran to catch up with Lee and the others.
“Mr. Scott, don’t disappear again. Stay with the team!” Philippe barked. “The men’s dressing rooms are here, and ladies are over there. Before we do anything, remember this competition is divided into four categories. We all know what to do. Let’s go and get ready!”
---
Lee and I where chosen to dance three different routines: a swing, waltz and mambo. Philippe placed confidence in his dancers, notably having quondam dancers clenching second prize two years in a row. I had danced several times before back home, but never at these standards. It took Lee and me months of training to prepare. Much of the competition had danced most of their lives. One could say that the odds where stacked against us. But so far, our teammates were scoring high in their categories.
After our mambo routine, Lee and I scored the highest marks.
“Very good. That’s what we need to see. Perfect Alistair; wonderful Miss Chang.” Philippe praised. “‘Dance a little’, indeed.” Philippe recalled the words I had spoken regarding my talent at o
ur first meeting. This moment proved he had been correct about my shining potential.
Lee’s family cheered from the audience along with my friends. The morale was high, but I was battling a strong internal desire to speak with Lee. However, my chances to speak with her were drowned out and hindered by the boisterous applause of friends, family, fans and Philippe. Finally, I took Lee by the hand and rushed her off to a private location to briefly talk.
“What’s wrong, Alistair?” Lee was worried.
“I have to let you know how—”
Our conversation was cut short by Philippe’s yelling. “Hurry! Five minutes, then you’re on. Quickly let’s go you two!”
The Fourth Day of November Page 3
