The Dance

by Suzie Carr

  It was Brooke. Her heart thumped.

  “Sophie forgot her pocketbook here,” Brooke said.

  “Did she?” How did Sophie not notice?

  “I can swing by and drop it off tomorrow if you’d like. I’ll be in your area.”

  Sophie would never wait a day if she knew. “It’s a beautiful day, and I’m just hanging around my house washing dishes. A drive will do me good.” She hated the way her voice sounded too excited.

  “I’m heading out, so I’ll just leave it with my grandparents if that’s okay?”

  Jacky’s heart took a nosedive. “Of course. Yes. No problem.”

  Jacky hung up, and stared at the pile of sudsy dishes. Maybe if she left that second, she’d run into her.

  Like a desperate fool, she left the rest of the dishes soaking in the sink, jotted a quick note to Sophie to let her know she’d be right back. Then, she dashed out of the door to get the pocketbook, hoping she’d pluck it right from Brooke’s fingers.

  ~ ~

  Elise handed Jacky the pocketbook. “You just missed her. She’s heading out to the Eastern Shore for a date with some rich one, I suspect. She owns a boat.” Elise smirked and fanned her face with the back of her hand.

  Jacky gulped back the harsh taste on her tongue. “Ah, a date.”

  Elise scanned her face with a grin. “I wish she’d smarten up and date someone more like you.”

  Jacky’s face burned hot. “Me? Oh no. I’m not ready for that. I’m still trying to…”

  She wrapped her hand around Jacky’s wrist. “I know, dear. You don’t need to explain. A grandmother can wish, though, can’t she?”

  Jacky blushed even deeper. “I should get going. Sophie’s waiting.”

  “Of course, dear.” She dropped her hand from her wrist. “Enjoy your afternoon with her.”

  Jacky walked down the path to her car, climbed in and drove away, fighting off a jealous twitch. Who was this rich woman, and did Brooke like her? Was Brooke already laughing and smiling at her from the front seat of her car, likely a cute little cherry red Porsche. Would they kiss? Would they sit under the setting sun, clinking champagne flutes and staring into each other’s eyes?

  She groaned, and pressed harder against the accelerator. She didn’t need this distraction. Brooke was a single woman free to date and charm others.

  She sure did know how to charm.

  Jacky heaved a sigh and clicked on the radio. Michael Jackson’s Billy Jean played. She blasted the music and sang along with him, drowning out the repetitive thumping on her heart that told her she dove in over her head, and needed to climb out of the rising waters before the tide rolled in and swept her clear off her feet.

  ~ ~

  When she returned, Sophie was back in her room. So, Jacky lay on the couch with her knees propped under a pillow. Then, she saw Brooke’s smiling face in her mind and the silhouette of a beautiful woman romancing her on the deck of an elaborate boat out in the middle of a moonlit harbor.

  To wipe that terrible sight from her mind, she placed the earbuds in her ears and pressed the play button.

  Soon, light piano music filtered in, and rising in the tiny cross sections of those little earbud wires came Brooke’s soothing whispers instructing her to take deep soulful breaths.

  Brooke’s voice crooned, sending warm ripples of peace through her. Her words, short, eloquent and willowy, brushed against the rough parts of her, softening and smoothing them over. She spoke to her as if leading her by the hand and introducing her to a whole new fabric of the universe where plants grew brighter greens and flowers bloomed the color of sunshine and rainbows. They skipped along the edge of a meadow where wildflowers grew around the knotty roots of Redbud trees. They dipped in to quench their thirsty need for rest.

  They sat on the edge of a rock, soothed by the scent of sunlight and apples.

  Bees are the most selfless creatures on the planet, she whispered. They put the health and safety of their hive above their own life. They’re not marred by the selfish ways of the ego because they don’t have one.

  Gentle music pulsed in the background, transporting Jacky to breathtaking scenery where they glided through the dewy morning, lavishing on one delicious flower after another. The land, with its wild and flavorful treasures, sat ready for them. They spent the time enjoying the aroma of pollen dust and returning to the center of their world on the hush of the gentle wind.

  Their priority is to the colony, and bees will sacrifice themselves without hesitation if they perceive a threat, she continued. They understand the virtue and value in honest communication. It’s at the heart of community. They are exceptional communicators and use vibrations and pheromones to share complex ideas and messages. Bees are not capable of telling a lie. They’re creatures to admire and respect. Our very existence depends on our ability to do just that.

  Brooke spoke about the intricate communication channels of bees, lulling Jacky into the peaceful retreat of her lullaby. Eventually, Brooke eased Jacky back to reality on a melodic, energizing countdown that took her from the center of that garden oasis to the safety and comfort of her living room.

  She ended on a breathy gesture, wishing her peace and an abundance of honest, loving energy.

  Jacky removed the earbuds and stared up at the swirled, plaster ceiling, relaxed for a change.

  She needed more stories.

  She jumped off the couch and headed down to Sophie’s room. She knocked.

  “Come in.”

  Jacky poked her head through the door. “Hey, kiddo. Do you have any more of those stories?”

  “Yeah,” she beamed. “A whole bunch.”

  Chapter Twelve

  As the weeks rolled by, Jacky’s affinity toward Brooke grew. She fell asleep each night to her guided meditations, imagining her whispering them into her ear.

  Sophie admired Brooke, too, viewing her as a role model. Sophie began talking with Jacky about her and how she was helping her finalize her school project. Mr. Benks even wants to become a beekeeper, too,” she said as Jacky pulled into Brooke’s driveway one Saturday morning.

  Brooke and Bee were walking in the side yard near a patch of willow trees. Bee went berserk, of course, and tore right out of Brooke’s hands, dashing toward the car like an attack dog. Foam and craze sprang up and sprayed everywhere, as her knobby legs and eager spirit catapulted toward them.

  “She’s wasting her money on the training, huh?” Sophie asked, forehead to the window.

  Jacky still hadn’t taken a dime from her, despite Brooke insisting. She kept telling her they’d square up together after Bee graduated. Of course, they’d starve and find themselves on the streets living in cardboard boxes if every client turned out like her.

  “Let me get out first.” Jacky opened her door, and Bee recognized her instantly. She bent to the ground offering her a wag instead of a mouthful of teeth.

  Brooke’s hands remained cupped over her mouth, her eyes wide, and her face pink and flustered.

  Despite being adorable, Jacky had to say something about Brooke’s ill attempt to train Bee. “It’s really important that you follow the techniques we talked about. We don’t want her to hurt herself or someone else, you know?” Jacky asked gently before bending low to pet behind Bee’s ears just the way she liked.

  Brooke dropped her hands. “You’re right. I haven’t been giving it my all.”

  They shared a gaze, then Sophie’s voice sailed in from the front seat. “Is it safe to come out, yet?”

  “Is it?” Brooke asked Jacky.

  Jacky reassured Brooke with a smile.

  “The coast is clear,” Brooke sang out.

  Sophie appeared slowly, offering Bee the back of her hand to sniff.

  “So you two have a lot of work to get to, I’m sure,” Jacky said. “I don’t want to keep you. Should I be back at four o’clock?”

  “Four o’clock should be just fine,” Brooke said, softly.

  ~ ~

  As she and
Sophie headed out to the beehives, Sophie asked her how the date with Janice, the sailing lady, went.

  “That was weeks ago. How did you know about that?”

  “Your nana told me.”

  “Of course she did. Well, I’m swearing off dating forever.”

  Brooke would rather embrace her single life and expect nothing from women. The disappointment of foiled dates clogged her creativity and sanity. Janice was a sailing queen who not only enjoyed eating food with her bare hands, but also kissed like a plunger, sucking Brooke’s face into her mouth.

  She’d rather hang with her honeybees than deal with another face-sucking cavewoman who trapped her in a sailboat the size of the backseat of her Corolla.

  “So never again, huh?” Sophie asked, emptying a pollen tray.

  “Never again. I’d rather toss myself in front of a speeding train than suffer through a date like that again. Well, maybe not a speeding train. That’s a bit extreme.”

  “More like a scooter?”

  “Yes, a scooter. Much more like a scooter,” Brooke agreed.

  “I’m not going to see boys anymore, either,” Sophie said. “They act like idiots. Especially when you get them with a group of their friends. They turn into bullies. There’s this kid Drake that likes me. He’s nice when no one else is around. Almost to the point, I like him too. Then, the minute his friends come around, he turns into an imbecile. He laughs at people and tries to be funny, only he’s not. He looks stupid. So, I’m done with boys for now. I’d rather read books than put up with their horseplay.”

  Brooke laughed. “You sound like my nana when she speaks about my pepe.”

  “Great, so it doesn’t get any easier even when they’re older?” Sophie flung her head backwards and groaned.

  “I’m afraid not. I’m guessing they’d say the same about us girls.”

  Sophie nodded. “Probably. We’re kind of hard to figure out. Especially Jacky.”

  Brooke placed a tray back in the hive and continued to work. “How so?”

  “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I guess sometimes I wish things could go back to the way they were before my mom died. It’s like we have nothing in common anymore.”

  “Have you talked to her about it?”

  “Nah.”

  “Why not?”

  “We don’t know what to say to each other because we always used to talk about my mother. Not in a bad way. We’d just joke around and try to get on her nerves. Those days are over now.” Sophie spoke like an elderly woman looking back on her younger years, as if they were impossibly out of reach.

  “Maybe you just need a new activity together.”

  Sophie played with a bee on her arm. “Yeah, maybe.”

  “We could invite her to spend some time with us here.”

  Sophie continued to focus on the bee. “I bet she’d like it if you invited her.”

  “Me?” Brooke morphed back into a teenager herself, riding out a flurry of giddy waves. “Why would you think that?”

  “I can tell she feels comfortable around you. I haven’t seen her smile and relaxed like that in a long time.”

  Brooke blushed.

  “Just ask her,” Sophie said. “I bet she’ll say yes.”

  ~ ~

  Later that afternoon when Sophie returned to the greenhouse and worked on the plants, she played back her conversation with Brooke about Jacky. They needed to find something in common, otherwise whatever they had left in their relationship might soon become ugly and dried up like a dead hive.

  She wished she could go back to their early days when she never considered herself a nuisance. She’d love to share a gigantic bowl of ice-cream with her at Friendly’s, like old times. She’d even forfeit the sugar cone sticking out of the top of it. Jacky loved those, maybe more than the mountains of whipped cream oozing with hot fudge and caramel.

  They shared some good memories, back in the day.

  “Can you marry her?” she had whispered to her mother the night she first met her on the tennis court. “And, can I wear a pink flower girl dress with dandelions sticking in my braids. Pretty please. Oh and black, shiny shoes too! Pretty please with sugar on top!”

  Her mother kissed her forehead, smoothing her hair back and whispered, “She even has a puppy named Rosy.”

  That sealed it for Sophie. No other second mommy would ever do. “Please marry her, Mommy.”

  For eight years, Jacky was her laugh buddy. They played jokes on her mother, stuffing rubber spiders in her bed to see her panic and catching her freak-outs on camera. Jacky showed her how to carve her first pumpkin and later bake the seeds. She bought her first pair of roller blades and took her to the park to teach her how to use them. Then later, they surprised her mom with her new skill.

  Jacky also taught her how to master riding her Huffy bike, the one with the red and white tassels that hung from the handlebars. They’d pack a picnic basket and take off on rides through the neighborhood, landing in the park under some giant tree and stuffing their faces with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and Utz potato chips, the barbeque flavor.

  Jacky picked up the pieces where her mother left off. Her mother was a busy person. She had a lot of grand plans and goals. She needed to work extra hard to achieve them. She turned into a scrapper if anyone got in her way, too. Her mother didn’t appreciate when anyone rained on her parade. No one crossed her path. Ever. Even strangers knew better. Her mother carried a certain attitude when she walked by trouble. She called it her New York Tude.

  “You can’t show fear,” she’d say before pulling her along toward a jerk trying to cut her line. “You let them get away with an inch, they’re going to eventually take a mile.” She’d raise her head up, puff out her chest, and march forward. The air parted for her, as did people. What her mother wanted, her mother got.

  Of course, this made Jacky very uncomfortable. They’d fight about it. They’d wait until they tucked her into bed and turned on the cricket machine – a noise maker that sounded like a forest of crickets lived under her bed – before battling out their sides.

  Sophie would crawl out of bed and put a glass up to the door to listen better. Their voices sounded like they screamed right into the glass. Well, mostly her mother’s voice. “No one is going to bully me,” her mother yelled one night.

  “You just have to think though,” Jacky whispered. “You’ve got Sophie there with you. What if someone had a gun and decided to shoot you in front of her? People are crazy. You can’t just walk up to a stranger and curse them out because he looked at you the wrong way. Look the other way for God’s sakes.”

  “I’ve lived my life this way since the day I was born. I’m not going to change now. No one will ever walk over me or my daughter.”

  That argument ended on a slammed door.

  Her mother could argue like no one’s business. She should’ve gone to school to be a lawyer. She would’ve won every case, hands down. She excelled at getting people to quiet down and agree with whatever she had to say.

  The nightly arguments always started out much the same, with her mother accusing Jacky of not supporting her and Jacky whispering to keep her voice down. Her mother didn’t know how. No matter how many times Jacky asked her, even as nicely as she did, her mother didn’t possess the ability to speak in a hushed tone, not when someone pissed her off and embarrassed her. Someone always seemed to do that to her.

  Her mother didn’t always walk around in fight mode. She had a soft edge to her that Jacky loved almost as much as Sophie did. Her mother was very generous. Not a week went by where she didn’t stop by a dog shelter and drop off a twenty–five pound bag of kibble, high-grade at that. She also baked casseroles for the soup kitchen in Baltimore City.

  Her mother was a wonderful momma. Each night, no matter how busy, she always took time to tuck her in and kiss her forehead. She wanted to hear every last detail of the day, then would read with her.

  God, she missed her.

  Sophie took
a deep breath and rose from the ground. She headed over to the cucumbers and checked their water levels. Her mother loved cucumbers. She fingered one, and a flood of emotions filled her. She missed those summer afternoons when they’d slice one up and eat them as they talked about summer vacation plans.

  She missed everything about her.

  Sophie turned and spotted Brooke on the ladder, tending to a sick tree.

  Brooke was beautiful. She smelled like earth after a nice refreshing rain. When she smiled, everything felt safe and warm. Her mother would’ve been jealous of such a woman so close to Jacky. She would’ve loved the apiary, but hated Brooke. She would’ve sensed Jacky’s interest in her.

  Jacky.

  Reading that letter every night didn’t help anymore. She couldn’t stay mad at her no matter how hard she tried. That scared her because it meant she could get hurt again. Being mad at her made those hurtful words she had said easier to swallow. Before the shit hit the fan, Sophie had always operated under the pretense that Jacky adored her, supported her, and loved her like a daughter. Then, her hurtful words shattered that perception.

  She’d give anything to know that Jacky wanted to be there with her heart and not out of some forced, obligatory legal contract that insisted she be. Jacky would never rip up a contract in spite of her own selfish desires. No. Jacky did as expected because that’s what good people did.

  Jacky would’ve been a great honeybee. She didn’t know how to be selfish.

  Jacky was a good person, and perhaps that’s why Sophie feared losing her so much.

  Brooke looked back over her shoulder and spotted Sophie staring at her. They shared a smile before Brooke focused back on the tree.

  Maybe Brooke was right. Maybe she could invite Jacky to hang out with the bees. She’d probably like them, and might even be impressed with Sophie’s ability to interact with them.

  ~ ~