Breaking Skin

by Debra Doxer

  When I went to Lisanne and asked what more I could do, she told me that interfering in these children’s lives is not part of the center’s mission, and neither is subverting or trying to go around their parents. In other words, I’d already done all I could. It was an answer I had trouble accepting.

  “I just got him. You can pet him if you like,” I tell Mia.

  She grins at me as her hand skims along Siegfried’s sleek back.

  “Will you walk on your toes for us again?” Mia asks. “And could you do that pose where your leg goes all the way up and almost touches the back of your head?”

  I laugh because what fascinates her so much is a simple arabesque. When I push my leg higher and lean forward into an arabesque penchée, Mia and all the girls gasp in awe. If only Dennis were so easily pleased.

  “I’d be happy to.” I smile at her. “Should we go to the music room?”

  Mia nods her head before leaving to gather her friends for the impromptu ballet lesson.

  After I let Lisanne know where I’m going, I walk down the short hallway to the music room with Siegfried by my side. The music room used to be the break room for the company that once occupied this space. There’s a counter with a microwave that stopped working years ago, and several round tables pushed over into the corner.

  After putting on my pointe shoes, I take out my phone and smile at the handful of girls as they file into the room. Just as I’m about to play “Dance of the Little Swans,” I change my mind and skip further down my playlist to something a little more relatable.

  A moment later, “Uptown Funk” blasts out of my tiny phone speakers, and I pirouette around the room, much to my audience’s delight. The girls screech as they jump up and down, trying to balance on their toes while they follow me around the room, tumbling to the floor in giggles and springing back up again.

  As I watch them, my smile grows so wide my cheek muscles ache with it, and I can’t stop smiling as we dance and laugh. Being with these girls helps me remember how happy dancing used to make me. I still get a thrill when I perform in front of an audience, but I don’t enjoy the cutthroat competition or the dressing-down I often get from Dennis at rehearsals.

  My grin gradually fades as I think about Renee. She’s a dance teacher at the old studio where we trained, but I have a feeling she doesn’t experience what I’m feeling now when she teaches. I think she’s envious of me and my career, but as I take a look around the room, for the first time I feel a little envious of her too. These girls keep me grounded and remind me why I chose this career. I wish I could spend more time with them and bottle some of their spirit.

  I resolve to try harder to find the joy I lost, not just in dance, but in so many other things too.

  When I first rode the bus out of Cooperstown after high school graduation, I was filled with excitement and anticipation. Everything good was in front of me, and everything I wanted to forget was behind me. Each time I retrace that route in the opposite direction, it feels like rocks are gathering in the pit of my stomach.

  I release a breath, something between a sigh and a groan, when the tiny Cooperstown bus station comes into view. How Renee can still live in this town is beyond me. It would be healthier for her to live anywhere else.

  When the bus comes to a stop, I look for her ancient light blue Subaru in the parking lot, but I don’t see it anywhere. The lot only holds a handful of cars, and none of them are hers. A quick glance at my watch tells me the bus is ten minutes late, so Renee should be here by now.

  I disembark along with the other passengers and pull out my phone. Within seconds, I feel moisture form on my back. The warm, dry air of Cooperstown feels stifling compared to the chilly San Francisco air.

  After ten more minutes of waiting with no sign of Renee’s car and no reply to my multiple calls and texts, worry creeps in. If she were simply late, she would text me back. Wouldn’t she?

  Using my phone again, I search for a taxi company and dial the number. Not long after, I’m riding in a yellow cab to my sister’s house with my hand wrapped tightly around the strap of my overnight bag as I try to control my temper. Renee’s blowing me off at the bus station isn’t exactly the welcome I’d hoped for.

  I look out the window, spotting landmarks I recall, but many more I don’t. Cooperstown is southwest of San Francisco and northwest of San Jose. It’s an in-between place, too far away to reap the benefits of overinflated real estate in both cities. But that is slowly changing. Real estate in the surrounding area has become so expensive that Cooperstown is now a viable option for some. But it would never be one for me.

  Last time I was here, I went by our old neighborhood. Our house is gone and a much larger, more modern home stands in its place. I felt relief when I could find nothing recognizable at our old address. I always wanted to erase my childhood, and I supposed that was as close as I’d ever get.

  Renee rents a small house across town from the neighborhood we grew up in, in an area that’s also changing rapidly, being redeveloped with the typical McMansions and strip malls. Last time we spoke, she feared the owner would sell to a developer and ask her to leave.

  The taxi comes to a stop in front of Renee’s white clapboard house and all looks well. Even her car is in the driveway, and my molars grind together. Did she forget I was coming? Did she forget how to text and answer her phone too?

  I pull out some bills to pay the driver. When he asks if he should wait, I glance at the meter that he’s about to start up again and shake my head. Better to take a chance on Renee not being home than let the fare climb any higher.

  When he drives away, I notice the new house next door and think Renee’s fears of being priced out of the neighborhood are valid. It’s gigantic, all wood and glass, like something out of a magazine. I wonder how much a house like that must cost. Probably more than I’ll earn in a lifetime.

  As I walk up the narrow brick path to Renee’s house, movement in the front yard next door catches my eye. A boy just came outside, maybe a little older than Langley. He points a garden hose at a dark SUV that sits in the driveway. The boy calls out to someone and a moment later, a man emerges from the open garage. Raising a long well-muscled arm, he gestures to a spot on the car’s roof covered in soap suds, a spot the boy appears to have missed.

  I take in the full measure of this man and my whole body goes still.

  The boy lowers the hose and says something to the man that makes him laugh. He throws his head back, revealing a defined square jaw, and the sound of his deep laughter carries to me. As I stand there transfixed, in a state of disbelief, the man turns and his light blue eyes come to rest on me.

  Oh my God. It’s Cole.

  His mouth closes and his laughter dies. From the corner of my eye, I notice the boy turn to see what the man, presumably his father, is looking at. For a long moment, Cole and I simply stare at each other across the distance, neither of us moving, neither of us breathing, it seems.

  Does he recognize me? I could never forget him. I still think about him too much, but my memory didn’t do him justice. In real life, he’s so much more. But those eyes. I remember those blue eyes clearly. My whole body flushes because usually when I look into those eyes, I’m seeing them in my fantasy. They hover above me while the rest of his body does intimate things to mine. I’ve lived off that fantasy for years.

  When the muscles of his cheeks move to draw his lips up into a smile, I panic. Saliva pools in my mouth as my body involuntarily reacts. I turn away and pretend to be distracted by the strap of my bag that has slipped down my arm. My heart beats fast and I’m completely out of breath, like I’ve just danced for hours.

  I wish I could act nonchalant and mature about this. Smile and wave as if seeing him again is not a cataclysmic event, as if running into him again isn’t a secret wish I’ve harbored for two years running. But I can’t. It’s not even a remote possibility.

  What’s he doing here in Cooperstown? Does he live here? Right next door to my sister? H
ow long has he lived here, and why did Renee never mention him? Maybe it’s not him. Maybe I’m imagining things.

  I continue the last few steps to my sister’s door, but I can still feel his gaze on me, even though I don’t risk another look in his direction in case he can read everything I’m thinking on my reddened face.

  After I ring the doorbell, another thought horrifies me. Cole has a kid. Is he married? Was he married when I slept with him?

  “Who is it?” a soft voice calls from the other side of the door.

  I swallow the reemerging panic. “It’s Aunt Nikki, sweetie.”

  The dead bolt turns before the door opens only a foot or so. When the top of Langley’s curly head appears, followed by big green hesitant eyes, I crouch down to her level and smile.

  “Did you and your mom forget I was coming today?”

  “No,” she replies as she pulls the door open further and takes a step back. “Mom told me to let you in when you got here.”

  “Oh.” Gee, thanks. So Renee didn’t forget I was coming, she just decided not to pick me up at the bus station like we agreed.

  Langley turns and walks into the living room where I can hear the television playing.

  I go inside and close the door behind me, waiting for my heart rate to return to normal. The only one-night stand I’ve ever had is standing right outside, and my sister left me stranded at the bus station. This is not how I thought the day would go when I woke up this morning.

  I cut through the small dining area and go into the kitchen to look for Renee. The scent of coffee lingers in the air but there’s no sign of her. Calling her name, I walk toward the stairway that leads up to the bedrooms.

  “Mom isn’t here,” Langley calls to me from her place on the couch.

  My brow furrows as I walk back into the living room. “You’re only eight years old, too young to be here alone. Your mother must be here somewhere. Outside, maybe?”

  “I’m not too young.” Langley appears insulted, wrinkling up her face as she watches me. “Mom’s friend picked her up and they went somewhere. She said it was okay because you’d be here soon.”

  I walk around the couch and come to sit beside her.

  “Your mom left you alone?”

  Langley nods.

  “Does she leave you here alone a lot?”

  She looks at me with a careful expression. “Only for a few minutes sometimes if Lisa is late.”

  “Lisa is your babysitter?”

  She nods again. “And I’m not supposed to open the door unless I know who it is. That’s why I asked when you rang the bell.”

  I smile to let her know I’m not angry, but I’m not sure if leaving an eight-year-old home alone is okay. Of course, if I try to tell this to Renee, she’ll bite my head off.

  I settle back against the cushion. “Did your mom say where she was going or when she’d be back?”

  Langley keeps her eyes on the TV as she shakes her head.

  “Do you know who she went with?”

  “A friend,” she mumbles.

  “Do you know who this friend is?” I raise my voice to get her attention.

  “Nope.” She huffs out a breath to make sure I realize I’m interrupting her television show with my questions.

  Annoyance pushes the air from my lungs. I like to think Langley and I have some kind of a relationship, but I’m kidding myself. She doesn’t see me enough.

  “I’m hungry.” Langley tells this to the television, not me.

  I glance at my watch and see it’s lunchtime. “I’ll see what your mom has. What does she usually make you?”

  She shrugs a shoulder. “A sandwich. PB&J.”

  “Right. Peanut butter and jelly.”

  In the kitchen, I find the peanut butter and the jelly but I can’t locate any bread.

  “Where do you guys keep the bread?” I call to Langley. After a silent moment, I add, “You know I can’t see you shrugging your shoulders from in here, right?”

  That earns me a quiet giggle as I close the cabinet and smile to myself. In that moment, I make the decision not to wait around for Renee. If she wanted me to watch Langley for her, she should have told me, left me some instructions, some food, some hint of where she went and when she would be back.

  “How about McDonald’s?” I ask Langley, making sure to position myself in front of the television so she has to look at me.

  Her expression tenses in annoyance because I’m blocking her view. “I’m not allowed to eat McDonald’s.”

  I didn’t know this, but I don’t see what the big deal is. “Well, I’m in charge at the moment, and I say you can eat it today since there’s no food in the kitchen.”

  Her brows squish together. “Babysitters are supposed to do what moms tell them. Even when Mom isn’t here, she’s the boss.”

  I snort out a laugh. Renee has trained her well. “I’m not a babysitter, I’m family, and your mother never told me you couldn’t eat at McDonald’s.” She didn’t tell me anything.

  Langley gives me a skeptical look.

  “You can get salads there now and other healthy stuff. Does your mom know that?”

  She shrugs again, and I groan inwardly at all the shrugging.

  “Do you know where she keeps the keys to her car?”

  “You’re going to drive her car?” she asks, sounding appalled.

  “Yup. It’s that or starve.”

  Thankfully, Langley knows where the cars keys are. She points toward the kitchen. “On a hook in there under the phone.”

  With Renee’s car keys in hand, I pull my purse from my overnight bag. When I see the jewelry box I bought Langley wrapped in shiny pink paper, I decide to give it to her now. I need an icebreaker. Although using gifts to win her favor isn’t a tactic I’m proud of, I’m not afraid to use it.

  I have it behind my back as I move to stand in front of the television.

  Langley shifts to the side to see the screen, and I try not to roll my eyes. “I brought you something.” I bring my hand out from behind my back and offer the gift to her.

  Instead of the smile and excitement I hope for, she appears suspicious, which hurts.

  “Don’t you want it?”

  “What is it?”

  “You’ll have to open it and see. But if you don’t want it . . .” I go to move it behind my back again and her reticence falls away.

  “I want it,” she declares. Then comes forward and cautiously takes it from my hand.

  “What is it?” she asks again as she tears the wrapping off. But I don’t have to answer because she lifts the top and Princess Odette spins around as music plays.

  “A music box,” she says quietly, and I can’t tell if she likes it or not.

  “You can put your heart necklace inside and all your other jewelry too.” I show her how the top lifts out to reveal more compartments inside.

  “What heart necklace?” she asks as she lightly touches her finger to Princess Odette’s tutu.

  “The one I sent for your birthday.”

  Her finger stills. “You didn’t send me anything for my birthday.”

  “Yes, I did. A silver necklace with . . .” I break off as a realization takes hold.

  Oh no. Renee didn’t give her my present. My blood runs cold.

  “I sent you a necklace for your birthday, sweetie. It must have gotten lost in the mail. I’ll get you another one. I promise.”

  But it didn’t get lost in the mail. I know it didn’t, and my heart hurts when she just nods as if she’s not sure whether to believe me or not.

  “Thanks for the music box, Aunt Nikki,” she says politely, putting it aside.

  “You’re welcome.”

  I surprise her with a quick hug, which she doesn’t return, and I swallow my anger, but I can’t hold my tongue for long. As soon as Renee gets home, I have to have it out with her. She’s not only hurting me. She’s hurting Langley too.

  “Ready for a Happy Meal?” I ask ironically.

  She
gives me a dour look. “I guess, but I really don’t think those are healthy.”

  Using Renee’s keys, I lock up behind us. Once we’re outside, Langley points at the house next door.

  “Derek’s here.”

  I slide my gaze in that direction and release a pent-up breath when I see the same boy in the driveway, alone now, wiping down the SUV with a cloth.

  “You know him?” I ask, wanting to get information without being too obvious.

  “He goes to my school, but he’s older. He lives here sometimes and he lives with his mom sometimes too. Since it’s Saturday, he probably just got here.”

  “Oh,” I say as if it’s of no interest to me. “Derek’s parents are divorced?”

  She nods.

  I feel relief, even though it shouldn’t matter after all this time. “When did they move next door?”

  “A few weeks after school started. They’re nice. Mom and Derek’s dad are friends.”

  Friends? My relief is short-lived. I know Renee too well. She’s never just friends with a man.

  The car isn’t locked, and Langley already has the back door open when I get there. It’s as hot as an oven inside as I try to get her strapped into her booster seat, but I’m too distracted by my own thoughts. Finally, she gets tired of waiting, takes the seat belt from my hand with an eye roll, and buckles it herself.

  “Thanks,” I mumble.

  Once the car is running, I turn the air-conditioning on full blast. As it cools the interior, I try to call Renee again but get her voice mail. It makes no sense that she won’t answer her phone or at least call me back.

  “Are we going to go soon?” Langley asks.

  I grin at her through the rearview mirror to cover the turmoil swirling beneath my moist skin.

  Renee and Cole? Of all the people in the world, he moves next door to her?

  My insides feel like they’re being run through a meat grinder. Squeezing my eyes closed, I determine to get ahold of myself. It’s not my business. It’s not like Cole and I are together. There’s no reason to fall apart. Maybe that wasn’t Cole I saw next door. Even if it was, maybe Renee isn’t sleeping with him.