by Cara Malone
Melody thought about this for a minute or two, then smiled. “Yeah, okay. I like that. It’s kind of like watching my younger self get a do-over and preventing New York from happening again.”
“Exactly,” Dr. Riley said, then looked down at her watch. “Well, that’s the end of our session. I think we got a lot accomplished today. You should be proud.”
CHAPTER 21
After a few weeks of private lessons, Jessie started to notice a bond forming between Melody and Ellie. Melody would chat with her while they were putting their ballet slippers on, asking her about school and the other things she liked to do besides ballet, and she even took the time to create a practice schedule for Ellie to use when she wasn’t in the studio.
“Come here,” Melody said to Ellie one day at the end of class, then she approached Jessie sitting along the wall of the studio.
Jessie tried not to look up from her notepad – she wasn’t all that eager to make eye contact with Melody because ever since she’d started reading those damn romance novels she couldn’t stop filling in Melody’s face for all the heroines. It felt wrong to look at her after all the intimate moments they’d shared in her imagination. But the closer Melody came, the more curious Jessie got, and she looked up.
Melody waltzed her way gracefully across the floor, Ellie following behind like a miniature version of her, and then both stopped right in front of Jessie. Ellie thought this was great fun, giggling and waiting to see what Melody had up her sleeve, and for just a moment time froze as Melody and Jessie locked eyes.
Then she leaned over and put her hand on Jessie’s notepad. “Can I borrow this?”
“Umm,” Jessie stuttered. “Yeah.”
She let Melody slide the pad out of her fingers, then handed over the pen as well. Melody sat down cross-legged in front of her and Ellie plopped down beside Melody.
“How much time do you think you spend each week doing ballet?” Melody asked Ellie.
“I don’t know,” Ellie said, glancing at Jessie for help.
“A lot,” Jessie said with a laugh. “I’m not sure you’ve crossed a room without chasséing since you started taking classes.”
“Nice, you remembered a ballet term,” Melody said, grinning at Jessie and holding her hand out for a high five. For a second she wasn’t sure Jessie would play along, but then she reached out and gave Melody’s palm a quick slap.
“It would be impossible to spend this much time in a dance studio and not pick up anything at all,” Jessie answered. “I’d say between lessons and the endless practicing at home, Ellie spends upwards of ten hours a week in her ballet slippers.”
“Hmm, that’s no good,” Melody said with a frown, tapping the pen against her lips as she thought.
It was an innocent gesture, but it made Jessie’s imagination go wild and she couldn’t tear her eyes off the pen as it bounced against Melody’s plump lower lip. She wasn’t here for that – she was here for Ellie to learn ballet, and that was all. She thought off-hand that it might be best if she started dropping Ellie off and running errands during this class too, or just sitting in her car until the private lesson was over. Ellie was old enough now to be alone for a little while, and she was clearly comfortable with Melody.
“It’s not?” Ellie asked, looking dismayed.
“Well, you have to give your muscles a chance to rest and it’s also not good to forget about stuff like your friends just because you’d rather do ballet,” Melody said. Ellie nodded like she understood but wasn’t quite sure she liked what she was hearing. “Here’s what we’re going to do to make sure you’re the best ballerina you can be without wearing yourself out. We’re going to create a ballet schedule for you, okay?”
Ellie watched as Melody drew a few lines on the notepad, dividing it into seven days. They spent the next few minutes blocking out Ellie’s week into school, homework, chores, sleep, ballet, and down time. Melody gave her half an hour every weekday evening for optional ballet practice, plus her two lessons a week.
“There you go,” Melody said. “That’s four and a half hours of ballet each week, and at that rate you’ll be a prima ballerina in no time flat. Outside of that time, though, I don’t want you in those ballet slippers for anything, got it?”
“Okay,” Ellie said reluctantly.
“Maybe next year we’ll revisit that, but in the mean time you’re a kid – go outside and play,” Melody said with a laugh.
“And right now you better go get changed,” Jessie said, checking her watch and seeing that it was almost time to drop Ellie off at school. “Go on, hurry up, bug.”
Ellie got up from the floor and dashed out of the studio, and Melody handed the notebook back to Jessie.
“I hope that schedule works for you,” she said. “You can always adjust it, of course. I just thought she might be wearing herself a little thin with the ballet.”
“Thanks,” Jessie said, taking the notebook back a little too quickly as she jerked it out of Melody’s hand.
It was unintentional, but Melody noticed the edge in her voice. There had been an awful lot of we in that conversation – we will revisit that. Jessie hadn’t signed up for all this one-on-one time with Melody when she agreed to private lessons for Ellie, and she wasn’t sure if she could handle another year or two of the tension that rose between them whenever they were alone in a room together.
“Something wrong?” Melody asked as she stood up from the floor. Jessie stood too, eager to get out of such close quarters with her. The temptation was too great, and she’d feel better in the lobby.
“You know you’re just supposed to be teaching her enough so she can move up to the intermediate class with her friends next year, right?” Jessie snapped. “She’s not trying out for Pavlova.”
The look on Melody’s face stopped Jessie dead in her tracks. It was like she’d slapped her across the cheek.
“What?” Jessie asked, surprised.
“Who told you?” Melody’s voice went cold and it was so unlike her.
“Told me what?” Jessie asked.
“About my history,” she said. “Did Mary Beth tell you about Pavlova to convince you to let me teach Ellie?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jessie said, dumbfounded. “She recommended you highly.”
“Never mind,” Melody said, heading out of the studio and going to her customary place behind the reception desk.
Jessie followed her out to the lobby, and Ellie was still in the restroom getting changed for school. She checked her watch again, feeling a little restless because these mornings were always a hectic dash to get Ellie to school on time and then make it across town for her grocery store shift. But she couldn’t ignore the way that Melody was pointedly looking away from her. She’d clearly struck a nerve, and Jessie didn’t feel right leaving the subject on such a terse note.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said, leaning against the reception desk ledge and making sure to keep her voice soft.
As hard as it was to spend so much time with Melody, it was harder to keep her passions under control around her. Jessie had spent the last six years of her life trying to be numb because it seemed better to feel nothing than to mourn a life she could never have, but Melody had shattered that well-protected numbness. Jessie could never go back to not caring about her.
When Melody’s eyes flitted up to Jessie’s and then back down to the desk, busying herself with the ledger, Jessie added quietly, “I didn’t mean anything by that comment about Pavlova. Did you go there?”
Melody repeated the subconscious gesture Jessie had seen a few times before and thought nothing of, rubbing her wrist down over her thigh so as to tug her sweater sleeve down. This time, though, she thought of the glimpse of a scar she’d seen on Melody’s wrist the other day. Melody had gotten so bent out of shape about it, she didn’t want to push her on the matter.
“Yes,” Melody said, still not meeting Jessie’s eyes. “I dropped out after m
y first semester. Or left in shame, to be more accurate.”
She glanced up at Jessie, catching her looking at her wrist, and a heavy silence settled between them. Then Melody sighed and unlooped her thumb from the hole of her sweater, yanking it up to her elbow and revealing a large pink scar. Jessie gasped, then immediately felt guilty for such a knee-jerk reaction.
Melody didn’t give her a chance to ask questions. She said, “I was delirious with the worst stomach flu of my life right before a huge audition and I slipped and cut myself in the shower. No one believes it was an accident – not even my parents – because I’d been falling farther and farther behind the rest of the dancers in my class. They all thought I did it to get out of the audition, or out of the school, and the truth was that I was relieved when I realized it was an excuse to come home. I had to lose two pints of blood to get out of there, and I’m still paying for it every day with guilt and a newfound sense of uselessness.”
She pulled down her sleeve, looping her thumb back into the hole to keep the fabric over her wrist.
“You’re not useless,” Jessie tried to object, but Melody continued as if she was afraid to stop lest she lose her nerve.
“I’ve never told anyone that except for my therapist,” she said. “Not even my parents. So please keep it to yourself. The reason I’m telling you is as a cautionary tale. I was just like Ellie at her age – a precocious kid with a singular interest in ballet. I started dancing around the same age, and I took private lessons at a studio similar to this one. Just keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t end up tying her identity into her ballet slippers like I did.”
Jessie just stared at Melody, at a loss for words, and that’s when Ellie finally came down the hall in her school clothes, ballet bag slung over her shoulder.
“Have a good week, Ellie,” Melody said, turning on the charm again and shaking loose the darkness that had settled between them. Then she turned to Jessie and said somberly, “Bye, Jess.”
“Bye,” Jessie said, taking Ellie by the hand and leading her out the door. They would most definitely be late to school and work today.
***
Recital season snuck up on Jessie. It hardly felt like an entire year had passed since Ellie began attending Mary Beth’s School of Dance, and yet there she was prancing through the living room in a sparkly tutu all her own.
“Turn around and put your arms up,” Jessie instructed, putting a couple of pins between her lips as Ellie came over to her.
She had two costumes – a navy, sequined tutu for her beginner ballet class’s routine, and a pretty blush-pink and flowing skirt that matched her ballet slippers for her private lessons with Melody. The tutu, unfortunately, required a bit of sewing to attach the spaghetti straps at the top of the leotard, so Jessie had Ellie put it on and she reluctantly got out the needle and thread. One thing was for sure – if Ellie stuck with ballet, Jessie’s seamstress skills were sure to improve.
Ellie hadn’t wanted to take the tutu off after Jessie finished pinning the straps in place, and it had been equally hard to keep her out of the costumes for the week and a half between when Jessie picked them up and the day of the recital. They got there eventually though, even if it did feel like the longest week of Jessie’s life.
This year, they went to the high school on recital night as a family, Ellie chattering excitedly to Steve as he drove and Jessie held onto the mounds of tulle and silk that made up Ellie’s costumes.
“I want you to meet my teachers and all my friends,” she was saying as they pulled into the lot. “Mommy already knows everybody but you don’t know any of them.”
“I’m just looking forward to seeing you dance on that big stage,” Steve said, smiling at Ellie through the rear view mirror. “Are you excited?”
“Don’t egg her on, she might shoot through the roof,” Jessie teased.
They went into the building, where a few dozen students in different types of costumes were milling around in the hall, figuring out where they needed to go and greeting their relatives as the auditorium filled.
“Come on, daddy!” Ellie cried, taking Steve and Jessie each by the hand and dragging them down the hall in search of her classmates. They were halfway down the hall, Ellie’s two costumes draped over Jessie’s arm, when she saw Melody coming toward them. Jessie noticed her glancing at Steve, no doubt guessing who he was, and then Melody was smiling and bending down to give Ellie her customary hug.
“Are you ready for the stage?” She asked with a big grin.
“Yep, I got my costumes right there,” Ellie said. “This is my daddy. You haven’t met him yet.”
“No, I haven’t,” Melody said, standing up and extending her hand to Steve. “Melody Bledsoe. I’m one of Ellie’s teachers.”
“Steve Cartwright,” he answered, shaking her hand. “You teach the beginner class?”
“No, I teach Ellie’s private lessons,” she said, her eyes darting to Jessie and then back to Steve in a look that Jessie hoped he didn’t catch. Jessie felt color rising into her cheeks.
“Oh,” he said, with an odd, tentative inflection. Jessie couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw him raise his eyebrows momentarily. It had to be imagined, a product of guilt for all those shifts spent inserting Melody’s name into her romance novels. Jessie’s heart beat a little faster nevertheless.
“You should be really proud of your daughter,” Melody went on, not noticing the strained expression on Steve’s face. She didn’t know him like Jessie did. “Getting a solo dance in your first year is a pretty big deal.”
“Well, I better help Ellie get into her first costume,” Jessie said. She couldn’t stand in the hallway between her husband and her fantasy girl any longer, and Ellie was having trouble standing still anyway. She was tugging impatiently on Jessie’s hand. “Steve, I have to help Ellie get dressed. The auditorium is through that door. Save me a seat toward the front?”
“Sure, Jess,” he said, and his voice seemed a little more curt than she was used to.
CHAPTER 22
Steve found a couple of seats toward the front of the auditorium, throwing his coat over the back of one of them to reserve it for Jessie. She might have trouble finding him if the house lights went off before she managed to get Ellie into her costume, but for the moment he didn’t much care.
He saw the way Ellie’s teacher looked at Jessie before she noticed Steve standing beside her. He knew that look, even if it hadn’t been directed at him in a long time. There was chemistry between them and it made his stomach hurt.
Ever since he found that lesbian book on Jessie’s phone, Steve wasn’t sure what to do with that information. He couldn’t just ask her over breakfast one day if she was still playing for his team, and it seemed like bringing it up at all might be an over-reaction. People read books about Jeffrey Dahmer and they weren’t serial killers, and they watched Game of Thrones even if they weren’t attracted to their siblings. Maybe it was just a good book with a plot that caught Jessie’s eye. He had pretty much decided to let it go, but then he saw Jessie blush when she looked at Ellie’s teacher. Now he couldn’t get that damn book out of his head again.
When Jessie found him, the lights were going down and he snatched his coat off the back of her chair then crossed his arms in front of his chest. He’d had just enough time sitting alone in the auditorium to get good and indignant as she sat down beside him. Five years of marriage - five years of thinking his wife was frigid or maybe he was just plain repulsive, and now he had to wonder if she just hadn’t bothered to tell him his cock was the problem.
“Ellie’s first dance is the group one,” Jessie leaned over to whisper to him. “It’s about fifteen minutes into the recital.”
“Mmpfhh,” Steve grunted, acknowledging that he’d heard her and making it clear he had no interest in talking. It was petty but he didn’t care right now. Was she fooling around with that instructor? Was that what they were doing every Tuesday morning at the crack of dawn, laughin
g at his cluelessness while he slept alone?
Ellie’s first dance was the fourth one in the show, but in Steve’s current mood it felt like two hours instead of fifteen minutes before she went on. He softened up a bit when he saw Ellie walk onto the stage, beaming the entire time and performing every move with precision and a natural grace. He’d seen the dance a thousand times already in his living room, but he watched every step with pride swelling in his chest. For those three minutes he forgot about Jessie sitting beside him and the feeling of betrayal building inside him.
Steve clapped loudly as the beginner ballet class scurried off the stage, standing up so that Ellie could spot him beyond the stage lights and read the pride in his face. Then when Ellie was gone and Steve sank back into his chair, Jessie leaned over to him again. It was all he could do not to recoil from her.
“I’m going to meet her in the hallway,” she whispered as the next group of kids, tap dancers, came onto the stage. “I have to help her get into the next costume.”
“Fine,” Steve said curtly.
Jessie got up and made her way as quietly as she could out of the auditorium, and Steve was left with his thoughts again, watching a bunch of kids he didn’t know perform dance routines he didn’t care about, while for all he knew, his wife was off having a quick tryst with a gorgeous, young ballet teacher. That was just great.
CHAPTER 23
Jessie went down the hall toward the stage door. Ellie didn’t stand a chance of getting out of that tight tutu by herself – she was growing like a weed lately and the thing was a bear to get on her in the first place – and there were only three numbers separating her first and second routines so they’d have to work fast.
Ellie wasn’t in the hall when Jessie got to the stage door, but Melody was. They literally smacked into each other as Jessie approached and Melody opened the door from within, rushing out to get the next group of dancers.
