She nodded, clearly alarmed but not panicky.
Chris stayed a few more minutes, asking questions in case the professor could think of a student he’d flunked or anyone else with a grudge. No such luck.
After he left, he swung by the dance studio again, but it was midafternoon and everyone had gone. That was the other thing about being a cop; it had a way of interfering with your private life. Sometimes it didn't leave you much of a private life at all.
By now thoroughly out of sorts, Chris steered to the health club and took out his frustrations on the racquetball court.
Chapter Five
Melanie closed her eyes, trying to relax against the strain. She'd forgotten what close work it was, sewing on sequins, and the light in the dressing room wasn't geared for needlecraft.
Next to her, Suzie reached out to touch the stiff netting of the tutu. The girl had tried sewing on sequins earlier, but after half a dozen finger pricks, Melanie had relieved her.
"Did you see Tiffany's costume?" Suzie asked. "At rehearsal tonight?"
"I'm afraid not." Melanie wasn't even sure she knew which girl was Tiffany.
"Well, her dress has these neat straps in the back and the material sort of ripples when she moves." Suzie held out the scissors to Melanie, who thanked her and snipped off some thread.
"This may not look quite that fancy," she warned the younger girl.
"But it's special." Suzie placed the scissors back on the counter. "Because you did it. Maybe some of your talent will rub off on me, too."
Melanie smiled wearily. "I hope so." She stretched her shoulders, wondering why she felt so tense. The practice with Tom had gone smoothly, and although she'd had a long day, it was only nine o'clock. From outside in the halls, the clack of hammers testified that work was still under way in preparation for tomorrow. Lots of people would be staying for hours yet.
But of course, she did know what the problem was. Jamie hadn't shown up. And she wasn't about to ask Suzie whether he was coming.
"There." Melanie held up the little dress. "How's that?"
Suzie fingered the sequins carefully. "They won't fall off?"
"I hope not."
"It's beautiful."
Actually, the addition of sequins had only marginally brightened up the inexpensive tutu, but Melanie knew that lights and distance could turn paste and cheap sparkle into magic. Besides, the change would boost Suzie's confidence, and that was worth more than a ton of glitter.
"I guess we're done." Melanie began putting the materials back into her sewing kit. There was no point in delaying; if a guy couldn't show up by nine o'clock on Friday night, he must have found something better to do.
"I'll go get Jamie." Suzie slid off her chair.
"You mean he's here?"
"Myron put him to work," the little girl said. "Be right back." She darted out.
Melanie snapped the kit shut, surprised at the wave of relief she felt. It scared her that a boy could make her so vulnerable.
Maybe she was foolish to encourage him. After all, her schoolwork and her dancing didn't leave much time for having fun. And something about Jamie made her wonder whether her father would approve.
On the other hand, one of the reasons Dad had argued against her going to New York was her lack of experience with dating and other so-called normal teenage experiences. So she supposed getting to know Jamie could be chalked up as educational.
Yeah, right.
All Melanie's rationalizations flew out of her head the moment Jamie walked in the door. As usual, he wore jeans and a sweatshirt, but he'd dropped the skull and crossbones. His hair bore signs of having been carefully washed and blow-dried; all this for her benefit?
"Hi," she said.
He jammed his hands into his pockets. "You guys all finished?"
Melanie held up the tutu. "This should look cute on your sister."
Instead of merely glancing at it, Jamie eyed the costume for a moment. "It catches the light."
"That's the idea."
"I'll bring my camera." He moved aside to let Suzie in. "Get some pictures of her tomorrow. And you, too."
"Jamie takes great pictures." Suzie produced a hanger swathed in plastic and angled the tutu inside. "There." She hung it on the costume rack. "Hey, Jamie, you promised us sodas."
"Yeah. Come on, you guys."
The car was a practical, late-model Chevrolet that must belong to his mother. Melanie made room for Suzie in the front, but the girl diplomatically opted for the back seat.
"You want a hamburger?" Jamie asked.
"Maybe some fries." Despite the amount of exercise she got, Melanie watched her weight carefully. Still, she was hungry.
In the nearly empty fast-food restaurant, the three of them took a table by the window. Jamie wolfed down a full meal while the girls nibbled their fries.
"You coming tomorrow?" Melanie asked. "Oh, yeah, what a dumb question. You said you were going to take pictures."
"Don't expect much." Jamie sipped his orange soda. "I mean, the lighting in the studios isn't so hot and I can't afford lights of my own."
"You mean like professionals?"
"Yeah. I mostly like to shoot outside in the daytime. But I'm working on my mom."
"Our uncle's a photographer in Marina del Rey," Suzie said. "Jamie thinks he might sell Mom some of his old equipment, you know, for Christmas?"
"Is that what you want to be?" Melanie wondered how many girls went on their first date accompanied by the boy's ten-year-old sister. Actually, though, Suzie's presence made it easier to talk.
Jamie shrugged. "Not exactly. I don't want to stand around in some studio all day taking pictures of brides and babies. I've been thinking about film making, reading some stuff about it, but that takes a lot of money."
"Mom thinks it's just a phase he's going through," Suzie added. "To impress his friends."
"Leave those jerks out of this," Jamie protested.
"If they're jerks, how come they're your friends?" Melanie asked.
Jamie scowled at his hamburger. "We used to have fun. Lately they've been acting weird."
"Mom calls them punks," Suzie volunteered.
Her brother shot her a dirty look. "She doesn't know them very well. And neither do you."
"What's weird about them?" Melanie said.
He grimaced. "Let's not talk about them, okay? What about you? Who do you hang with?"
A little embarrassed, she admitted she didn't have much time for friends. "My Dad and I try to go out one night a week. That's because he works such long hours, sometimes we don't see much of each other."
"Your dad's a cop, right?" Jamie made a face. "He'd probably punch my lights out if I came to pick you up."
"No, he wouldn't," Melanie said. "He wants me to go out. Or at least, that's what he says."
"Not with me." Jamie rested his elbows aggressively on the table. "He'll figure I'm a punk, too."
"What makes you so sure?"
"I've seen him at the dance studio. He gave me a funny look, like I'd crawled out of a hole." Jamie finished his fries and wadded up the wastepaper. "This is crazy, you know?"
"What is?" Melanie wished she could follow his moods. Why had he suddenly turned resentful?
"You. Me." He picked up the tray and deposited its contents into the nearest trash container. "I don't know why I'm wasting my time."
"Don't listen to him," Suzie said. "He's just being dumb."
Melanie stood up, unsure how to react. "Nobody forced you to take me out. This isn't even a real date."
"That's right." Jamie held the door. "Maybe we should keep it that way."
"If you like." Melanie stalked out of the restaurant. "I can walk home from here."
He strode ahead of her and unlocked the car. "Get in. I don't want somebody mugging you."
Melanie considered arguing, but he was right. Late Friday night was no time to go for a solitary stroll. "If you insist." She slid onto the seat.
Suzie climb
ed in the back. "Don’t fight, you guys. Jamie, you're being pigheaded."
"Stay out of this." He twisted the key in the ignition and shot the car backward out of the parking space.
"Don't worry, Suzie," Melanie said. "You and I are still friends."
Except for giving directions, she didn't say anything more on the drive home, and Jamie kept his eyes focused straight ahead, as if she weren't there. Just her luck. She’d never heard of anybody at school having a date like this.
"Good night," Melanie told Suzie when she got out. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Okay." The little girl's eyes were wide with misery as the car drove away.
Melanie stared after them in dismay. What had gone wrong? Was it something she'd said?
It just went to prove that she'd been right in the first place, that she ought to stick to her dancing until she got older. Then she'd know how to handle guys like Jamie.
But the thought didn't make her feel any better.
"Hi. Glad you could make it." Kerry nodded to a woman and her three daughters as they came through the lobby door, joining the throng browsing through the booths.
"Is she a real ballerina, Mommy?" asked one of the children.
"I guess so." The woman smiled at Kerry, who tried not to feel self-conscious in her costume with its below-the-knee netting, satin bodice and puffed, see-through sleeves. "We've been wanting to talk to someone about ballet lessons."
"Here's an information sheet and an application." Kerry handed them out. "We'll be having a beginners' class demonstration in a few minutes, if your kids would like to watch. Studio B. We've already begun classes for this fall but we'll start a second class after Christmas."
'Thanks." The woman shepherded her small flock toward the gazebo, where a line was forming for photographs.
Only ten o'clock, and by Kerry's count at least two hundred people had shown up—more than they'd had in the entire day four years ago, when she and Myron first cooked up the Ballet Fair.
Although the studio could function without the extra revenue, it allowed them to offer scholarships, provide occasional field trips and hire an auditorium for their end-of-the-year recital—all nice touches that the students appreciated.
With one last glance around to make sure everything was functioning smoothly, Kerry glided into a corridor to check on her dancers.
Chaos reigned, as expected. Youngsters in leotards dashed through the halls, ignoring the shouted last-minute instructions of their parents. Inside the girls' dressing room, frantic last-minute hunts were under way for missing slippers, while mothers bent over their daughters, decking their fresh young faces with rouge and lipstick.
"Beginners, five minutes," Kerry called.
She hurried out just as Melanie arrived, her costume draped neatly across her arm.
"We've got quite a crowd," Kerry said. "I'll get Myron to squeeze a few more chairs around your studio."
"Fine." Melanie kept her face averted.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, sure." The girl brushed past her into the dressing room.
About to follow, Kerry spotted Chris at the end of the hallway and went to him instead. "Is it my imagination or is Melanie upset about something?"
"I was hoping you could figure it out." His brown eyes studied her in perplexity. "I thought I knew my daughter but—she was out till nearly ten last night and just muttered something about practice, and at breakfast she hardly spoke two words. I think they were, 'Not hungry.' "
Kerry immediately thought of Jamie. She'd seen him here last night, helping hammer a booth together, but had figured he was merely waiting for Suzie.
"I know she helped one of the younger girls with her costume," Kerry said, deciding not to mention her suspicions. "Listen, I have to go get ready for a demonstration. If I learn anything, I'll let you know." Anything for sure.
"She's always talked to me before." Chris sounded hurt. "I appreciate your help, Kerry."
She hated to leave him, but duty was duty. "Later." Kerry hurried away.
People overflowed the chairs and lined the walls in Studio B. Kerry had to wangle her way through them. "Please keep a path clear for the girls," she called.
"Excuse me." It was a long-haired young man draped with a camera. "I'm from the Brea Star. Okay if I take pictures?"
"Please don’t use flash during a performance." Kerry hated to discourage him, though. "A dancer might slip and hurt herself. I'll tell you what. If you like, we can set up all the poses you need afterward."
The man nodded. “That's fine. I'll just use available light, then."
Kerry scurried out to summon the beginners from the dressing room. They followed her as directed, walking primly and without chattering.
When the girls entered the studio, the audience fell silent. Kerry could feel the children's nervousness; this was, after all, their first performance. In one corner, Vivian Ezell sat with her hands clenched tightly. Beside her, even Jamie looked tense.
She noted abstractedly that Chris had entered and was leaning against the wall. Was he watching her, or merely passing the time until Melanie's duet?
"To the barre, please," she said, and turned to the viewers as the students obeyed.
"This is our beginning class," she said. "They are learning the fundamentals of ballet. At Leaps and Bounds, we take dancing seriously. In the beginning, there's lots of hard work, and it isn't very glamorous.
"We stress the basics—learning the five positions, and developing the muscles and flexibility and arm movements needed to master more complex choreography. You won't see young children in toe shoes here. That can ruin their feet. Nor will you see ten-year-olds trying to dance junior versions of Swan Lake.
“The girls will be demonstrating the five basic positions. Emphasis is on correct position of the feet, legs, arms, torso and even the head, on creating an elegant line and what we call turnout, opening the body to the audience.
"Please, if you have to use a flash, wait until after the demonstration and we'll have time for pictures then."
She nodded to Bella, and the music began. Watching critically, Kerry noticed that three of the dancers stood out, for different reasons.
The one who caught the eye first was Tiffany, resplendent in an expensive pink tutu made of material that practically glowed. The girl herself hammed it up at every chance, adding flourishes to her hand gestures, tossing her head, practically crying out, "Look at me!" Her technique wasn't bad, but it suffered from too much attention to ego and too little to ballet.
Rhea was having problems keeping the rhythm. She always seemed to be half a beat behind the other girls and then, hurrying to keep up, would push ahead. There was nothing approaching grace in her movements, even though she was obviously trying hard.
The third dancer who stood out was Suzie. Solemn, highly focused, the child executed each movement with as much extension as she could muster. Technically, she was a shade above the other girls, but what distinguished her even more was an intangible quality that Kerry could only call stage presence, an inner magnet that drew eyes to her.
The music ended and applause rippled through the room. The girls made their bows.
"Please remain at the barre." Kerry stepped forward. She noticed individual faces in the crowd, proud mothers and fathers whom she'd met before. Vivian Ezell beamed as her gaze remained on Suzie.
Chris wore a thoughtful expression, as if the sight of the young girls had taken him back to Melanie's first days as a dancer. How strange it must be to see his little girl grow up so quickly.
"We're going to take photographs now, as some people have requested," Kerry said. "The rest of you, thanks for coming. Our intermediate dancers will be performing after lunch. But first, in half an hour, a special treat. Our star pupils, Melanie Layne and Tom Hadley, will perform a duet in Studio C. I hope you'll all be there. They'll repeat the performance at three o'clock."
She posed the girls at the barre as most of the viewers filed out, Jamie
losing himself among them while his mother stayed behind. Cameras clicked and flashed. When the parents had finished, it was the newspaperman's turn. He took his time, lining up shots of the row of girls.
"I'd like to get some individual shots of one of the dancers," he said at last. "That one." He pointed to Suzie.
The child's face lighted up, even as Tiffany's mouth formed a pout.
"I don't see why!" Tiffany blurted. "That ugly old costume—you can see her mother bought it at a thrift store."
To Kerry's relief, one of the other girls leaped to Suzie's defense. "You're just jealous because Melanie helped her sew on the sequins," the child said. "I think it looks nice."
on the verge of tears, Suzie managed a timid smile. "Thanks, Eileen."
A tall woman wearing a designer jogging suit caught Tiffany's arm. Kerry expected her to reprimand her daughter, but instead the mother regarded Suzie with disdain. "Come on, Tiff," she said. "We're going to take some real pictures of you."
They marched off together, backs ramrod straight.
"The rest of you can go and change," Kerry said. "Thanks, girls. You did a splendid job."
Eileen waited while the photographer posed Suzie and took several pictures. When he was done, the two girls skipped off together. From the back of the studio, Vivian Ezell followed them at a distance. Kerry felt like apologizing to Vivian, who must have overheard Tiffany's rude remark, but sensed that it would only make matters worse.
"Guess the kids get jealous of each other." Chris ambled forward through the empty room.
"Usually they're a little more discreet about it," Kerry said. "But it does happen."
"There isn't anything like that troubling Melanie, is there?" Chris said. "I've certainly never skimped on her ballet expenses."
Kerry debated whether to reveal her thoughts. She didn’t like to speculate, but surely Chris had a right to know. "I think she might be interested in a boy."
"A boy?" He sounded as if she'd named some exotic object. "I assumed she was here last night."
"She was." Kerry began turning off the lights in Studio B. "You know that little girl, Suzie, the one who got her picture taken? She has a brother who's about sixteen. He was working on the booths last night and I thought I saw the three of them leave together."
By Leaps and Bounds Page 7
