The Dance

by Suzie Carr

  “Well, suddenly she’s got us going to the church on the corner of Wilbur Road on Saturday nights now to sing with a bunch of dimwits. I’m telling you, don’t let friends control you like that. You stomp that foot down when you say no, so they hear you down to their crooked toes. Otherwise you’re going to end up yodeling like an idiot in a crowd of tone-deaf, folk-singing fools.”

  “I’m tone deaf too, so I won’t know the difference.”

  “Yeah. You are.” The poor kid couldn’t carry a tune if a village of small children counted on her to save their life with a song. “So what are you doing next weekend, cutie?”

  “I’m going to the movies with Ashley and a few of our friends.”

  “I hoped you’d tell me you planned on staying home to wash your hair. But kids don’t use that excuse anymore. What would you tell me if you wanted to blow me off?”

  “That I was going to the movies with Ashley and some friends.”

  “Funny.” Marie loved Sophie’s sense of sarcastic wit, one of the only remarkable features Drew had possessed in Marie’s humble opinion. If only she could share a laugh or two with Jacky still.

  “Could I persuade you and Ashley to stay over at our place on Saturday night to babysit Zen for us instead? I promise I’ll load you up with enough sugar and salty treats to make you want to sing acapella in a church hall.”

  “We’d love to.”

  “I take it Ashley doesn’t get to weigh in on this decision?”

  “She’ll do anything I ask.”

  Ashley was the kind of friend every teenager wanted. She was loyal like a puppy, and never seemed bothered that she stood in Sophie’s shadow. Sophie turned heads, even at fifteen years old. The girl could eat ten bags of Doritos and still wear a size two jeans.

  “Okay then. That was easy.”

  “Where are you and Auntie Hazel going?”

  “She wants to go hang out with the ghosts in Gettysburg. So I told her we’ll make a trip out of it.”

  “She wants to?”

  “Don’t be a smartass.”

  “You walked into that one, Auntie.”

  “Can you just put Jacky on the phone? I’ve got to make sure she gets her butt into the school an hour earlier tomorrow.”

  “You overbooked her again, didn’t you?”

  “This client is pretty desperate.”

  Sophie sighed. “They all are.”

  They were, which helped Jacky. She needed to be needed. The clients acted as her saving grace. Well, the dogs anyway. They balanced her life with a sense of purpose. If it wasn’t for them, Marie would probably be visiting her in the mental ward at Spring Grove, watching as nurses fed her meds round the clock and gave her crossword puzzles to solve. As long as Jacky kept focused on something other than her guilt, Marie would keep overbooking her and laugh her ass off when she complained about it.

  “Hey, did you ever ask her about the Paris school trip?” Marie asked.

  “Nah. I’m not going to go. It’s not that important.”

  Sophie talked about that Paris school trip nonstop whenever they chatted. “It would do you some good to get away.”

  “It’s three thousand dollars. Also, she’d need to bring me to the airport at like four in the morning. It’s too much.”

  Marie would offer the money and the drive to the airport, but it went deeper than that. No amount of money would solve their relationships issues.

  For the past two years, Jacky had put aside her own wants and focused on providing Sophie with the kind of life her mother always wanted for her; a life filled with friends and access to great education, resources and activities. Jacky gave up her bowling night, her membership to the gym and happy hour on Tuesdays with the gang from Inner Circle School to keep Sophie engaged in everything other than her mother not being alive. Sophie only saw it all as a cure for guilt.

  “Jacky would love to see you go to Paris, cutie.”

  “I know she’d give me a handful of money and probably even get me to the airport by three in the morning. She would never say no.”

  “She would want this for you.”

  “She could use a new car. Hers barely starts in the morning. I’m not going to be selfish and put her out like that.”

  When Drew was alive, Sophie would throw a tantrum until she got everything she wanted. Marie suspected the poor kid didn’t want to rock the boat and cause issues with Jacky. Despite Jacky’s love, Sophie viewed herself as an obligation.

  “Yeah, well, maybe you could earn the money then somehow. Maybe pet sit.”

  “Yeah. Maybe. I’ll get Jacky. Hang on.”

  Momma J you mean? Marie would sing in a church hall for the rest of her days on Earth to hear Sophie call Jacky that again.

  ~ ~

  Ten years ago, Jacky Applebaum and Marie opened up the Inner Circle Doggy Daycare and Training School. Jacky led the training, and Marie the doggy daycare side of the business.

  They scored a huge space in a renovated industrial center, allowing them the ample room they needed to exercise and train the dogs, as well as provide top-of-the-line accommodations for any guest dogs staying on vacation with them. They secured the backend suite, which also included a large grassy area that they had fenced for doggy playtime.

  Jacky escaped into the dog world. It became her temporary paradise, the kind where she could imagine running barefoot in an open field and embracing the warmth of the sunshine as it danced across her face. Those beautiful moments shared with those selfless beings protected her from the harshness of reality. The dogs challenged and entertained her, and helped her forge a path to healing.

  The parents, on the other hand, drove her batty with their ignorance. They wanted perfect dogs without having to put in the work and time. She also despised when people didn’t respect their appointments.

  She ran a tight schedule, and when someone messed with it by showing up late, she paced.

  Well, Jacky paced that day.

  Brooke Hastings, desperate for solutions as Marie put it, was ten minutes late.

  Jacky twisted her fingers behind her back as she opened her stride in front of the large window. Behind her, barks and excited shouts bounced off the walls as her trainers Zack and Wendy worked their magic tossing balls and redirecting energy. In front of her, the sun reflected off the chrome on a car’s side window, temporarily blinding her. She snapped away and looked down at her watch. She blinked and focused on the time again. Ten minutes and twenty-two seconds late.

  She looked to Hazel at the front desk. Her feather duster swirled around the computer screen kicking up flurries of dust. She squinted, and her wrinkles swallowed up her delicate blue eyes.

  “I came in an hour earlier for this client,” Jacky said, looking for more steam to keep her earlier argument with Marie boiling. Poor Hazel got stuck in the middle of them.

  Jacky enjoyed spats with her best friend. As long as they debated, Jacky could trust in the authenticity of their friendship. Marie didn’t sugarcoat anything for anyone. Marie had sprinkled that fake sugariness for only one week, that hell week two years ago, and Jacky choked on the aftertaste. Marie didn’t do mushy well. It sat on her face like a mask, foreign and ill-fitted. She preferred Marie in her raw state, and ignited it whenever Marie softened on her too much.

  Hazel glanced at the appointment book. “You have a small buffer in between clients. You should be okay.”

  Jacky released her fingers from their twisted rage and pushed forward to the appointment book. “If she’s more than fifteen minutes late, I’m rescheduling her. This is all Marie’s fault, insisting I squeeze her in.”

  “Yes, you’re right. Marie must have called her after your fight to beg her to come in late.” She rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t that sound ridiculous?”

  Jacky walked behind the counter, stuffing Hazel smack in the middle whether she wanted to be or not. Jacky surmised Hazel enjoyed playing the mediator. “Don’t defend her.”

  Hazel dragged the feather duster
along the edge of the display of dog tags. “She’s not going to let it go.” She feather-dusted Jacky’s arm. “You’re going to have to apologize to her first, I’m afraid.”

  “She yelled at me in front of that daycare client.”

  Marie might’ve had her back when it came to bitchy clients, nosy neighbors, and egotistical jerks who cut her off or rode her tail on the street, but she could whine like a two-year old if she didn’t get her own way.

  “You sold her favorite lamp, dear.”

  Jacky’s right eyelid twitched. She pressed her forefinger to it. “It’s a stupid lamp.”

  That stupid lamp with its goddess holding up a round lightbulb like the freaking Statue of Liberty tormented her the second Marie brought it in. Marie had picked it up on the side of the road in someone’s trash pile. She carried it into the school like she found Baby Jesus in the manger. She spent an hour shining the charcoal-colored body with its voluptuous curves and nipples. Yes, the darn lamp even had nipples.

  “You know Marie. She loves junk,” Hazel said. “I don’t condone her outburst. I don’t. But, you know how she is.”

  “A half inch of dust covered it. The bulb hung on with nothing more than a string. She forgot she even had it.”

  “Until you sold it.”

  “Until I sold it.” Jacky looked at her watch again, and tensed further when the minutes ticked by with no sign of her new client.

  “Believe me, I’d love to sell some of the junk in our house,” she whispered out of the corner of her twisted mouth. She dusted the computer screen again. “Maybe I could hire you?”

  Jacky loved Hazel. She loved how she put up with their antics, playing along like a referee, weighing each side objectively. “I don’t know how you do it.”

  “She’s Marie.” Hazel shrugged.

  “Yeah.” Jacky checked the appointment book. Only thirty minutes until her next client arrived. “I’m never going to have time to meet this new desperate client, go through discovery of her issues, and examine her dog.”

  Just then, Marie barged up to her. “Did you sell my fan, too? The little white one in the backroom?”

  The little white fan. For the love of everything beautiful and practical in the world, that little white fan had no place in the Inner Circle School. What a useless piece of trash. A part of its leg was missing, so it wobbled every time she turned it on. It only worked on high speed, and if you turned the knob to any other setting, a loud grumble roared out of it. “We had a rule Marie.” Jacky pointed at her. “You bring something new, we get rid of something old. You brought in the new figurine of a Yorkie, the flower pot, and that hideous painting of the sad girl.”

  “What else then?” Marie drove forward. “What else did you take it upon yourself to get rid of without asking first?”

  Jacky hesitated. “You had two weeks. Someone had to make a move.”

  “What else?” Marie pressed on.

  Marie would not like Jacky’s answer. She turned to Hazel for help. Hazel shook her head. “I’m not getting in the middle of this one.”

  “What else did you toss out?” Marie grabbed Jacky’s wrist.

  “Your broken ukulele,” Jacky whispered.

  Marie flung her head back and groaned. “I wanted to repair it.”

  Jacky’s eyelid went into overdrive, cranking out a twitch on a whole new level. “Marie not now.” Jacky pushed past her, then stopped before Hazel. “If the newbie decides to show up, can you reschedule her?”

  “Stop avoiding me,” Marie barked.

  Suddenly, the bell above the door chimed.

  Jacky rushed away. “Reschedule her, please,” she said to Hazel, as if Hazel earned a salary. They both relied on Hazel’s good heart perhaps a bit too much.

  She’d get her a gift card to Amazon soon. Very soon.

  ~ ~

  Tucked away in the backroom, Jacky called Sophie. “Are you up for pizza tonight?”

  “Tonight I’m going to Ashley’s for dinner. I told you. Remember?”

  Sophie did not tell her. “That’s right.” Jacky pressed her twitching eye. “Okay, kiddo. That’s fine. Do you need a ride?”

  “Nope.”

  Jacky waited for more, and when none came, she ended the awkwardness. “Okay, well, I’ll see you no later than ten, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Love you, kiddo.”

  “Yup.” Sophie dragged out the letter p.

  “Have fun.”

  “Okay.” Sophie hung up.

  Jacky envied Marie and Hazel. Sophie respected and adored them. Jacky overheard many of their phone conversations over the years to understand Sophie had no desire to giggle with her the way she did with Marie and Hazel. They got to see the fun, adoring, carefree side of Sophie, while Jacky suffered through the silent treatment, occasional bickers and overall gut-wrenching reality that no amount of time would ever grant her forgiveness. She couldn’t blame Sophie. She didn’t deserve Sophie’s respect after what she’d done.

  Jacky exhaled a cleansing breath. She would not give up hope. She loved that child, and would continue to search for a way to break through the protective barriers Sophie set around herself. She rubbed her memory bead necklace, bringing it up to her lips. Please help us Drew.

  Jacky continued to rub the memory bead when Marie pushed open the door. Her short, wiry steel hair poked up in many directions that day, as if wanting to run away to find a new home. “I’ve got something better than our fight to keep us entertained. Are you ready for this?”

  Jacky relaxed into a laugh. One minute clawing, the next laughing. “We’re nuts, aren’t we?”

  “I hated that stupid white fan anyway,” Marie admitted, dragging her hand through the air. She smirked and her whole face contorted.

  “I didn’t toss out your ukulele, by the way.”

  Marie, with every bit of her six-foot tall stockiness, sealed her eyes shut in a moment of divinity. “Thank you.” She flashed them open. “You played a good hand with that one.”

  Jacky eased into the familiar comfort of her best friend. “So, what’s more entertaining than our bickering?”

  “That new client of yours.” She bobbed her head up and down, cajoling her into the beginnings of an inside joke.

  “She’s too late. Fifteen minutes, thirty-two seconds. It’s not fair to the next client.”

  “You’ll find her case quite intriguing,” she said, smacking her lips together with pleasure.

  By her case, she assumed Marie referred to a healthy set of boobs, butt, or other curvy body part. Although, Marie would never come out and say such things. Marie never talked about sexuality. She never admitted she and Hazel were a couple. Everyone just assumed. They owned a house together. Adopted Zen together. Ate turkey dinners and ham at their families’ houses on holidays. Yet, they maintained separate bedrooms and bank accounts and never referred to each other as partners. Marie didn’t offer insights, and Jacky didn’t bother her by asking such details. She suspected her silence protected Hazel more than herself.

  “Please reschedule her until next month.” Jacky looked down at her phone and checked her email.

  “This isn’t a time to play hard to get.”

  Jacky stood up and got in her face. “I’m not afraid to trash the ukulele.”

  Marie backed up a step. “Ukulele aside, she can’t wait.”

  “Just because a woman is beautiful doesn’t mean she gets special treatment.”

  “How about if her dog is a beast?” Marie raised an eyebrow.

  “A beast?”

  “A total beast.”

  An excitement surged. Jacky loved tough cases. It fired up her engines. But a rule was a rule. She appointed the fifteen minute rule that day. “She showed up late.”

  Marie poked her shoulder. “I know how you love a good beast.”

  Jacky clenched her jaw. “Fine. Tell me more.”

  “You should see for yourself.”

  Jacky looked at Marie with caution. />
  Marie folded her hands over her chest. “I’m telling you. Her dog’s a beast.”

  “A true one?”

  “A true one.”

  Lately, the only training issues she dealt with were puppies peeing on carpets and dogs barking too much. “I could use a challenge.” Jacky rose and walked out of the backroom.

  Marie snorted and followed her out to the main room of the training facility.

  Jacky spotted a brunette standing at the desk. Her cheeks dimpled as she watched Millie and Trooper, two rambunctious hounds, follow Greg, one of Jacky’s trainers, in a game of find the treat. Her dark waves tucked and flipped as if flirting with each other, revealing a hint of auburn highlights. She wore a brown and orange striped dress that accentuated her dancer-toned body.

  Jacky walked by Hazel and greeted the woman with a handshake. “Hi, I’m Jacky Applebaum. I understand you had a ten o’clock appointment?” Jacky glanced up at the large clock above the receptionist desk to mark her point.

  The woman met Jacky’s shake. Her blue eyes glimmered. “Yes, that’s correct.” She let her hand slip. “My name is Brooke, and I hope you can help me with my dog, Bee.”

  She sprinkled her flowery scent all over the receptionist area, numbing Jacky to any residual stress from her tardiness. Jacky looked around for the beast. She scanned the cars parked out front for a dog stuffed in the backseat of a car. “Where is Bee?”

  “Home,” Brooke said with no reservation. She looked around, smiling at the sight of lazy Mickey, the chubby Dalmatian, refusing to fetch a ball. She pulled in her lower lip when Fonzi and Tattoo, two Pomeranians, jumped through hoops that Wendy raised to her knees. “Trust me. You don’t want me to bring her in here.”

  Marie fiddled with the case of dog tags, sporting a smug smile.

  “I’m going to need to see her in order to evaluate her. Let’s set up a new appointment and have you bring her in.”

  “I can’t bring her in here.”

  Jacky imagined a gentle giant full of matted fur, slobbering every which way as she pounced from one shocked dog to another in search of play. “Why not?”