The Fated Dance: Bound to the Shadow Dancer

by Leeann Whitaker

  An emotional bump forms in my throat as the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Every now and then, I can feel that he’s with us. Especially in moments of pride. It’s like this energy we share. I’m connected to him by this paternal tether; the love we both have for our baby girl.

  “Mom,” she squeals. “I need to find it!”

  She has been planning this for weeks, and I’ve had to move an entire class at my dance studio to accommodate her. She’s kept it all hush-hush, and has choreographed the whole thing herself. Tomorrow, it will be the eleven year anniversary of her father’s death, and she wants to do something especially for him during her dance recital at the Bellview hotel.

  Grayson was right when he said he would always be around. Every birthday, Emily has one thing above all she wants most and looks forward to. The letter from her dad. Over the years we’ve laughed, cried, and remembered. He has made sure she knows him well, and that’s why tonight is so important to her.

  “The bird Mom, hurry!”

  I crouch down to her huge peach dressing up box, and spot it straight away. The tiny cream velvet box that contains a small silver cufflink of a dove. It was Grayson cufflink. I found it when I brought her home from the hospital the day after she was born. It was so surreal, as though it had been purposely placed next to her crib. Now she wears it at every special occasion and performance.

  For a time, before Emily came along, my life became ensnared by depression. There were several times during the pregnancy, I nearly ended up on the psych ward. I have Flick and Henry to thank for keeping me half-sane. It was hard to know who I was supposed to be. A grieving woman. An excited expectant mother. A failure once more. But the moment Emily was born, something inside me woke. A light that shone through the darkness. I knew I had to snap out of it, and live my life how Grayson wanted. I worked hard at being a Mom (with a little help) and got my own life on track by opening up my own dance business, which is now booming.

  What brings me a sense of peace is the fact that she is so much like him. Stubborn. Knows exactly what she wants and she gets it. But also her kind-heartedness. Her willingness to forget about herself and put others first. She has his dark blonde wavy hair, his striking eyes, and as soon as we met, I was saved. She made me want to accomplish things for us.

  I attach the cufflink to the neck hem of her leotard with a sigh, and she wraps her tiny arms around me.

  “Come on Mom,” she tugs my hand to the door. “Don’t wanna be late.”

  ***

  Our seats are reserved right at the front of the great ballroom. Winston and Henry sit, waiting excitedly. Henry has now retired, but remains within our family circle. Old age has gradually caught up with him, and he now relies on an earring-aid, which he hates with a passion. Winston, well, he’s making things up to Grayson by being the greatest Grandfather he can be. He dotes on Emily. Every school, sports, or dance event, he’s there with a front row seat. He no longer sees me as a money grabbing stripper. Now, he treats me with respect and love.

  Flick appears behind me with Luke. Yes that’s right. My troubled little sister, is married, and is expecting her first child on Christmas Eve.

  “Sorry we’re late,” she utters, waddling to her seat. “Just stopped off to get some of these,” she waves a bag of pork rind in my face: her pregnancy craving.

  The lights dim as the tinkle of piano notes sound. A single spotlight aims onto the stage and my chest fills with a flurry. Emily stands before a prop mirror and dance bar. In the reflection is a white dove, perched on the warmup bar. She’s dancing to: Adagio for Strings, and every pore and hair on my body stands on end.

  She talks to the bird, but the bird doesn’t respond, so she begins to dance. She stops, and watches as the bird comes to life. Each move, step, and twirl, she performs beautifully, as I look on with teary eyes.

  Henry grabs one of my hands, and Flick the other, as the bird in the glass begins to flutter its wings and glide side to side. She’s dancing her little heart out for her dad, and it’s turning me into an emotional wreak.

  The room is so still and soundless as I hold my breath for the finale. The bird breaks through the glass and dances with her on the stage. Then it soars high, until it is out of sight. The lights and music fade.

  The silence is suddenly broken by Winston, who ejects from his seat with everyone else. An eruption of cheers roar, as our little girl appears on stage taking a bow. I cry as privately as possible. But it’s impossible for her not to see when she’s purposely searching for me. Unexpected, she scrambles down from the stage and races up into my arms.

  “I didn’t want to make you sad Mom,” she says, nestling her head on my shoulder.

  I clench her tightly and smile. “Honey… you have made me the proudest, happiest Mom alive,” I kiss her cheek.

  “I love you, Mom.”

  “You too baby girl.”

  The one thing I now know, after that dark grief fades, is that nothing is gone forever. Grayson’s death was the evolution of us all, and what we have become. Each individual he touched, has transformed into his ideals. His death created our path, which he is still very much a part of. He will be in my heart always, waiting for me by Arrakis.

  There never is an ending. Endings are only new beginnings.

  Thanks for reading.