The Odd Ballerz

by Ruthie Robinson

  “Maybe not an all-star. Let’s see how it goes first. See if we can work together. And speaking of that, no drama if for some reason one of us wants out, agreed?” he said.

  “Agreed. If not an all-star, then how about a pretty good cornerback? Is that a possibility?” she asked, back to the topic of training, smiling. He was wearing his in-between grin, as she dubbed it, the one between full-out and none at all. “Okay, fine, I can work with average,” she said to his silence.

  “Average may be possible,” he said.

  “You said I had potential. Was that a lie?”

  “You have speed, Jones. We’ll have to see what else there is to you,” he said.

  “I’m a hard worker,” she said.

  “You’ll need to be,” he said.

  “So, all this paper is from your businesses?” she said, looking around the room.

  “Yes.”

  “And those boxes are filled with papers too?”

  “Yes, from before I moved,” he said.

  “And you’ve been here how long?”

  “Three years,” he said, chuckling.

  “Wow,” she said, and not in a good way. “Turnkey Relocations? That’s one of your businesses?” she asked, turning back to face him.

  “Yep, I’m a silent partner with two other ex-football players in a company that helps professional athletes with their moving needs. What insurance company are you with?” he asked.

  “Foundation Insurance,” she said.

  “That’s my carrier,” he said.

  “I know, I looked you up,” she said smiling, sheepishly.

  “Jones,” he said, shaking his head from side to side. “What to do with you,” he said, chuckling. “Do you have time for a short, down-and-dirty home tour? I teach a class most Saturday mornings, so I’ll be short on time in the morning.”

  “Yes, sure,” she said, smiling, ecstatic at how well things were turning out. She was still here, about to tour his home, and so hopeful about more than just football training. She fell in behind him as he started down the hall. “Laundry room to the left,” he said, closing the door to it, but not before she spied laundry piled high in a basket.

  “Bathroom,” he said, pointing to the second door on the left. The hallway dead ended at another door, which was locked. “This part of my home has a different lock, an attempt to keep my business and personal life separate,” he said, digging into the front pocket of his shorts for his keys. It took him less than a second to open it and then she was following him into a smaller hall.

  “Bedrooms to the right,” he said, before turning to the left. “Living room, straight ahead; kitchen and breakfast room to the left, you remember from before.”

  “Sort of,” she said, following along behind him, examining the house again, more thoroughly this time. White tiled flooring started at the back door, and carried through the rest of his home it seemed. Not sure if it went into his bedrooms, but it was everywhere else.

  “Front door through there, which you know already,” he said as they walked past all she had seen before.

  “Wow,” she said, stopping just outside of his kitchen, a room she’d not seem much of on her first trip. It was pretty and functional, painted in the same white and grey as the rest of his home. Well, except for the cabinets. They were more charcoal and different from the light grey of the walls. In the middle of the room was a large butcher block of white granite, speckled with gray. Two backless bar stools were underneath, so it serve as the kitchen table, too. Top-grade silver-finished appliances was the rest of his kitchen, she thought admiringly. He had one of those expensive stoves, gas-burning, found on just about any TV cooking show. “You have a very nice home,” she said.

  “Thanks. Help yourself to water in the refrigerator or coffee. I make a pot every morning,” he said, pointing to a professional-grade coffee machine that was at home in any coffee shop, and no way did she have the knowledge to make that work.

  Someone was at the back door, knocking and he walked over to open it. “Hey,” he said to the woman who’d stepped inside, and whose arms went around his waist immediately. Her lips touched his just as quickly, for a kiss that lasted long enough to indicate something more than friendship.

  “You forgot about me?” she asked, looking into his eyes and then around the room. Her eyes landed on Memphis and she smiled. “Oh hi. I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” she asked.

  “Nope,” Z said, turning to face Memphis. “Meredith, this is Jones. Jones, this is Meredith,” he said.

  “Hi, Jones. That’s an odd name,” Meredith said, smiling at Memphis.

  “It’s Memphis. Memphis Jones,” she said.

  “Good. Memphis sounds so much better than Jones. It’s nice to meet you, Memphis. I’m an old friend of Z’s,” she said.

  “It’s nice to meet you too,” Memphis said. “I’d better get going. It’s getting late and I’ve taken up enough of your time,” she said, looking at Z. “Thanks for the tour. I’ll see you in the morning.” She moved around the table and over to the back door.

  “I’ll be back in a minute, Mere. Let me walk Jones to her car,” he said, moving towards the door too.

  “Sure,” Memphis heard her say.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be here this long, or intrude on your evening,” Memphis said, once they were some distance from his home.

  “You’re fine. You haven’t.”

  “This means a lot to me, you helping me out with the training and all. You have no idea how much,” she said.

  “I have some idea.”

  “Your dyslexia, right? I guess you do understand my need to want to get past my issues.”

  “Yep, and you’re helping me too, remember,” he said. They had reached her car.

  “See you in the morning then, and thanks one more time,” she said.

  He smiled. “No problem,” he said, watching her get into her car, and he continued watching as she backed out. He was still standing there a few seconds later when she peeked into her rear view mirror.

  TEN

  “So who is Jones?” Meredith asked as soon as he entered through the back door.

  “Someone that wants to play for the Ballerz, and someone I’ve agreed to train,” he said.

  “She likes you. She wants more than training from you,” Meredith said to Z’s blank expression, which really wasn’t that blank to someone who knew him for as long and as well as she did.

  “It’s training only. Want me to get you something to eat?” he said.

  “Yes, sir. I’m starving,” she said, taking a seat at the table. “I think you’re interested in this Jones too, and way more than you’re telling me.”

  “What are you hungry for?” he asked.

  “Whatever you have, and don’t change the subject. I don’t want to get in the way of anybody’s love life,” she said, smiling.

  “You’re not. You won’t,” he said, staring into the refrigerator.

  “Okay, let me know when I start to.”

  “I will,” he said, pulling out a container of something and the conversation turned to a discussion of what was left to do on his work.

  #

  Memphis parked next to Alex’s truck, in the driveway of Charlotte’s home. She’d left Z’s and driven straight over, as she promised Alex, her feelings all over the place, and all of them excited. He was going to help her and she him, and there was something about this one that she’d connected with from the start and not just in training. He was easy to be with and easy to talk to. It would be perfect if he was interested in her and not Meredith, although Meredith was more of what she imagined he was attracted to, and a small pinprick in her balloon of hope. Told you he wasn’t for you, her inner voice chided her again.

  “Hey,” Charlotte said, answering the door, arms filled with a wide-eyed, cuddly soft baby, and Memphis wanted one so badly.

  “You want?” Charlotte asked.

  “Yes, of course,” Memphis said, settling her niece
into her arms, immediately sinking her nose into her hair, soaking in her sweet baby smells.

  “Where’s Alex?” Memphis asked.

  “In the back, waiting for you to get here. She said she left you at practice, going to talk to the coach,” Charlotte said, wiggling her eyebrows, then leading the way to the back of her home. “What’s that about?”

  “I’ll tell you both at the same time,” Memphis said.

  “So? What’d he say?” Alex asked, sitting at the kitchen table, all eager beaver to hear the news.

  “Yes. He said yes,” Memphis said, allowing herself to smile for the first time. She and her baby niece took the chair across from Alex.

  “Who said yes? And to what?” Charlotte asked, taking a seat beside Memphis, removing the baby from her sister’s arms. She had started to make those fretting baby sounds.

  “I have a mild form of dyspraxia,” Memphis said, needing to come clean to her sisters about everything.

  “Clumsy child syndrome,” Charlotte said, holding her gaze.

  “How did you know?” Memphis asked.

  “I’m a teacher, we have to know these things, the types of learning disorders, and this dyspraxia can be more than just physical. It can affect kids’ ability to learn. You don’t talk much about it, so neither did I. You take being our big sister seriously, and you’ve always tried to shield us from whatever you thought we needed shielding from,” Charlotte said, understanding in her eyes. “You also have trouble with anxiety, since before Mama, but it was worse after her. You don’t have to carry everything on your shoulders, you know.”

  “I know. I don’t mean to, or maybe I do. I’m used to it, this carrying everything. You two were young when Dad and then Mom… and I’m better than I used to be, really, with my anxiety,” she said.

  “Our parents should have gotten you some help, but in those days we thought we could will everything into a correct state of being,” Charlotte added.

  “They did their best,” Memphis said.

  “With limited funds and no insurance. I know,” Charlotte said.

  “Is that the reason Z was standing so close to you at Wednesday’s camp? He knew?” Alex asked.

  “Yep. Aubrey told him, and please, no Aubrey discussions. I know how you both feel about her. I get it. Anyway, I stayed behind tonight to ask him if he would be willing to train me personally and he said yes.”

  “Okay, so let’s back up to the part about him standing close to you,” Charlotte asked, listening then as Memphis brought her up to date on everything.

  “He says he’s dyslexic, which is why I think he’s willing to help me, or at least it makes him sympathetic to my cause. In exchange for my training, I’m going to organize his office,” Memphis said.

  “Well. Well,” Charlotte said, smiling her Cheshire cat smile. “Nice guy, huh, and what? He’s not even African American. How is that even possible?”

  “Don’t start, and it’s not like that. Trainer, trainee, and maybe friends we are to be.”

  “You want more than that. It’s okay. You can say it out loud. He’s cute, sexy, an artist, and nice, and why shouldn’t you want more?”

  “Anyway, he’s agreed to help me, and in exchange I’m going to organize his office. Did I say that part?” she said, not even going to get her hopes up again.

  “Yes, you did,” Charlotte said, smiling. “I’m still hopeful, regardless of what you say.”

  “Tell me you didn’t tell Aubrey this news?” Alex asked.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “That’s good, at least. You’re finally learning. It’s about time is all I can say,” Alex said.

  “She apologized, stopped by my office yesterday.”

  “Of course she did. And you accepted her apology, of course,” Charlotte said.

  “She was there for me when I was alone, that’s enough to forgive a whole lot of sins. You were young, you didn’t see her help,” Memphis said.

  “You’ve paid her back tenfold, trust me,” Charlotte said.

  “So what do you think? About Z? What does it mean to be dyslexic?” Memphis asked, directing her questions to Charlotte, moving them away from the subject of Aubrey again.

  “Dyslexia is a language-based learning disability that makes many aspects of reading difficult. Which means he has or has had trouble with reading, decoding words, comprehension, and maybe with vocabulary development.”

  “Is it the reason for his office?”

  “Could be, or it couldn’t. Dyslexia doesn’t mean you’re not otherwise smart and capable. Just like being clumsy doesn’t. He has businesses, right, so he must have mastered it enough to graduate college and get to this level with his businesses. He could just not like taking the time to organize,” Charlotte said.

  “When do you start this training?” Alex asked.

  “We’ll continue with the schedule from camp. Monday, Wednesday, and Fridays, an hour and a half each evening, which I’ll make up Saturday mornings working in his home office, and that’s going to start tomorrow.”

  “So soon,” Charlotte said, grinning now. “I think it’s great. Who knows? You will be transformed into a great footballer and spending all that time up close and personal with him, and who knows, we might even get ourselves a boyfriend or more out of this deal.”

  “I wouldn’t mind but he’s not interested, and I know this because he’s told me so, and more than once. There’ll be no fairy tale happily-ever-after endings here. Strictly coach and player we are to be and that’s good, okay? I’m good with that.”

  “He would lose his job. You know that, right? He loves coaching about as much as I do. That’s the main reason you’re off limits,” Alex said, looking between her two sisters’ gazes.

  “Not really, not until after she tries out, right?” Charlotte asked on M’s behalf, nowhere near ready to give up.

  “So here’s the thing I didn’t tell you, ’cause Z’s my buddy but you’re my sister, and now that you two will be working together, I should tell you this. Plus I think you like him more than you’re telling us and I don’t want to see you hurt when it doesn’t turn out the way you hope it will,” Alex said, ignoring the militant, ever-hopeful Charlotte.

  “Tell me what?”

  “Remember I said a player and a coach’s deal went south last year? Well, Z was the coach with the player relationship that turned crazy, or she—Brittany, that was her name—turned crazy. The rule was instituted because of him. It wasn’t in place before him and it’s a good thing or he’d be toast. That’s the personal reason he won’t get involved with you, period, now or later. If you’re on the team or possibly going to be on the team, then you’re off limits.”

  “What?” Charlotte said.

  “What?” Memphis said, her mouth falling open in shock.

  “Yep, not that I think it was his fault or anything. He never said what happened, so I don’t know the details, just that they broke up. I think he liked her a lot, moving toward couple status, even. That’s what I heard anyways. After the break-up it was all her showing up, asking him to forgive her, and I guess he didn’t.

  “Forgive her for what?” Memphis asked.

  “I don’t know. All I know is that home girl went all the fuck left and to hell in a hand basket, took non-acceptance to another level, showing up at all times of the day and night, disrupting practice when she came. Pleading at first, and when that didn’t work, it escalated to calling him everything but the child of God, anything to get his attention. Ended up with her trying to break into his place,” Alex said.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

  “You’re off limits, and Z and I are friends, and I told you about the rule, so it didn’t matter. You only said Aubrey was interested in him and what do I care about her.”

  “Oh,” Memphis said.

  “Yes, oh. You two could be friends, I mean, and outside of camp he’s a pretty friendly guy. It’s just that he likes coaching too much to risk losing his job. I know t
his as his friend. So if this did go like you wished, M, you’d have to quit or he’d have to,” Alex said.

  “Who’s Meredith?” Memphis asked.

  “An old friend of his. Why?”

  “She showed up at the end, when I was leaving.”

  “An old friend sometimes with benefits, I think. They grew up together. She’s an artist like him. But I don’t know for sure. He’s a private guy and a good guy, really, just got mixed up with someone who wasn’t right for him, and we all know how that can happen. He’s only been nice and helpful, knows how much I want to coach, and helps in anyway he can, so I’m a little biased. I like him. I think it’s all about getting you ready for the team, and that’s not to say he couldn’t be interested in you,” Alex said, adding the last few sentences to help with the disappointment that had made its home on her sister’s face. It was so much more than average interest too, just as she’d thought.

  “He could be interested in you, Memphis… I mean from a guy level, you’re interesting. You stole all of the boobs and butt quotient for our family, didn’t leave much for the rest of us,” Alex said, chuckling.

  “Speak for yourself,” Charlotte said, looking down her chest. “I have enough.”

  Memphis sat with her gaze on Alex, a smile at her lips. “It’s new, having you do this for me, looking out for your big sister. I like it and I’ll promise you that I’ll be careful. All’s fine. He’s the coach and I’m the trainee.”

  “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you and Charlotte,” Alex said.

  “That’s not all true, not even a little bit. You are here because you wanted to be different, while I, on the other hand, am here because I lost a bet,” Memphis said, smiling. “I needed to be here too, along with you, getting past my old falling-down self. I understand. Thanks for looking out for me too.”

  #

  Friday night

  Z picked up his cell to call a friend, or more a brother by another mother. Meredith had stepped outside for a swim and she’d be awhile. Mere was part mermaid always, from when they were kids, growing up and swimming in the lake near their homes.

  Yancy Yarborough was his insurance salesman, who also happened to work for the same company as Jones, and now that he agreed to work with her, and more importantly allowed her into his home and into his business, he thought a second opinion from someone who’d known him forever might be helpful.