“I might interject here that recovery and rehab are grueling endeavors as well, sir.” Siobhan shot the words like carefully aimed bullets. In deference to professionalism, her tone remained neutral, but she hoped her eyes sparked with a level of conviction she felt clear to her soul.
“Furthermore, she continues to execute her recovery regimen with wholehearted determination.” Leave it to Liam to edge forward—to protect and defend.
Siobhan’s heart swelled.
“She’s developing as quickly and as strongly as any professional athlete because she is an athlete.”
“I couldn’t agree more with that analogy.” AJ’s statement punched a decisive note of authority into the argument.
“Understood, gentlemen, but allow me to reiterate, this is a multi-million dollar investment.” Cameron Franklin proved relentless. “This is a full-court press. It’s going to be brutal physically. It’s going to be a night in and night out marathon, performing in city after city. Plus, it’s the songs—the vocalization and music people respond to, not so much the dancing. We need to study Siobhan’s case in terms of practicality. Frankly, I don’t think she’s strong enough for that degree of intensity right now, and I have the feeling potential backers will feel the same way. After all, she doesn’t even sing, and other dancers could—”
Struck low, Siobhan wasn’t a bit surprised by the soft gasps that came from Aileen, Kassidy, and Maeve following that belittling series of comments.
“Mr. Franklin, I have a question for you.” Aileen performed a sharp interjection. “What drives the life that lives in our body?” The tour exec shrugged, lost. “The beat of the heart. That’s what Siobhan Douglas brings to our group and our performances. You’re correct when you so blithely observe that she doesn’t sing a note. Siobhan would be the first to admit she can’t carry a tune. But the energy, the vibrant flow of her dance moves warms the stage and guides us. Siobhan provides stunning visuals. She pumps a unique fuel and vibration into each song we sing. Like the beat of a heart, you can’t exist without it. Neither can we. Please, don’t ever downplay the role that any one of us brings to this venture.”
“And with all due respect, allow us to be clear about something else.” This time Kassidy spoke up, resting a hand in strategic support against Siobhan’s shoulder. “We’ve discussed the matter at length and have come to a business decision of our own. We can take or leave this entire offer. Sharing our music and our mission with the type of audience this deal will provide would be fantastic, yes, but God makes roadways regardless of outward circumstance. In other words, mess with one of us and you mess with all of us.”
Maeve concluded the moment with a sparkling, and unabashedly challenging smile to their would-be detractors. “That said, shall we allow ourselves the pleasure of watching Siobhan dance? I, for one, can’t wait to see how far she’s come in what we know will be a full and inspiring recovery.”
****
AJ swiped a hand against the back of his neck. A slick layer of perspiration met his touch. Round one of this long-dreaded moment was complete. Now, on to round two.
He followed the assembly across the threshold of Siobhan’s office. Seldom had he come away from a meeting so thoroughly impressed. While the boardroom moved to the mirrored dance space he had shared with Siobhan scant weeks ago, he closed his eyes, fighting to remain steady. He prayed for God’s hand and provision.
Dressed in a gauzy pink skirt that was tied at her waist, Siobhan wore a matching leotard and toe shoes. Using the barre for support, she alternated stretches between her left and right legs. Before the exhibition began, Aileen, Maeve, and Kassidy gathered around her in quiet conversation. AJ could only imagine the ways they encouraged and uplifted their friend.
Soon enough, attendees gathered against a far wall and waited while the quartet joined hands and bowed their heads in prayer. Then, poised and in full control, Siobhan glided to the center of the room and faced croise derriere, her right arm curved above her head, her left arm extended backward. Meanwhile, her left leg bore her weight and she pointed her right leg behind. Once Siobhan went still, Aileen started the music. AJ held his breath, waiting.
The piano intro from “Surrender” by Beckah Shae filled the air. From there, he watched along with everyone else. His heart lodged in his throat, and his gaze fastened upon her legs, her fast-moving feet.
Siobhan’s song choice featured a driving, powerful beat and reflected redemption through submission to God. In a word, it was perfect. Siobhan moved flawlessly, like a feather caught in a soft, twirling breeze. She played to her audience—she engaged, smiled, leapt, jumped, and even performed a back and forth series of toe-work—but the entire four-minute episode left him clenching his jaw and caused his stomach to knot tight.
He recognized nuance. What he discovered disturbed him, for very deliberately Siobhan used every opportunity she could to lead with her left leg. Very deliberately she punished herself in an effort to win her way to a dream and prove a point of pride and honor.
The precious, yet utterly misguided little fool. What was she thinking?
The song concluded with a room-length series of pirouettes followed by the low, deep sweep of Siobhan’s entire body. She remained rock-solid and steady, frozen into a perfect backward arc once silence reigned.
Applause rang out from everyone in the room—supporters and skeptics alike.
AJ clapped as well but focused intently on Siobhan. Were it not for his medical background and a carefully honed sense of perception he might have missed the barely noticeable list in her gait, the subtle lines that formed against the corners of her mouth despite a winsome smile and a polished, gracious demeanor.
Engulfed by a cluster of people, Siobhan pressed a hand to her stomach. She smoothly excused herself and retreated from the room. She didn’t run. She wasn’t awkward about leaving, but when she turned, her skin was definitely pale. She wasn’t well.
AJ promptly followed making a quiet exit of his own.
He found her in the hallway just outside her office. She rested her head against the brick wall, breathing shallow, her back to AJ. He stepped behind her, forming a shield. When he touched her arm, she shivered.
“AJ…I don’t feel good.”
Five simple words, spoken in a raspy whisper, became his undoing. Still, a potent shot of anger launched through his system as well. “Come with me, you need to get out of view so you can catch your balance and recover.”
Grasping Siobhan’s hand, AJ tugged her gently into her office. There they could embrace some semblance of privacy. Once he closed the door, she sank against it, eyes closed, her complexion still pallid. She pressed her fingertips to her forehead.
“It was the spins. They’ve made me ill.”
“Given what you went through at the hospital with vertigo, and given the fact that you executed way too many repeat turns at the end of the song, when you were most expended, that development doesn’t surprise me.”
He silently cursed himself for speaking in such a cutting tone of voice, but his reaction stemmed from concern and a genuine fear for her wellbeing.
Siobhan gulped air. “I tried so hard…and…it’s like that wretched sense of dizziness and queasiness worked through me all over again.”
“Because you have to build up tolerance, over time, with practice and consistent rehab.”
“But—”
“There’s no but in this situation, Siobhan. What you did today wasn’t smart. You deliberately over did it. Plus you worked your injured leg as much as you possibly could, didn’t you?”
“I survived.” A fast, deliberate silence built. “I’m fine.”
AJ looked deep into her eyes. “OK. Now, tell me the truth.”
All at once, her chin quivered. Moisture sheened her dark blue gaze. “I want my life back. Why can’t you understand that?”
“I understand that fact all too well, but look at the results. You’re nauseated because you were in such pain you couldn’t
focus correctly when you spun, right? Furthermore, I’ll bet you couldn’t do a deep squat right now if I paid you. You’re not ready for the kind of consistent punishment, they’re going to require. They believe you’re back to form and you’re not.”
“Perhaps, but I just might have bought myself some time and support.”
“Maybe yes, maybe no. Judging by the comments I overheard, they’re thrilled. They’re going to go back to their ivory towers now and think nothing of pushing you and pressuring you as soon as possible, and you’re just not ready, Siobhan.”
“Way to stand up for me!”
He ground out a frustrated sound. Stepping into her space, he nearly pinned her to the door, pointing a finger toward her chest. “You’ll find no fiercer, more loyal champion than me once you’re properly healed. You won a battle today, but you’re going to lose the war. You should be fighting for latitude. They want you on board—that much is obvious. Don’t destroy all the strides forward you’ve made. Don’t embrace a world based on desperation rather than faith.”
At least she paused for a few seconds to absorb that statement—still, her eyes sparked. “For now, all I know is this: they’re appeased, and if I’m given the go-ahead, I’m all in. Deal with it. I’m doing what I need to do. That’s the end of this discussion, Doctor Cooper.”
AJ reared back at her biting and dismissive formality. Nodding once, he stared her down in a hot silence. “Fine. Obviously my work here is done. Good luck with the path you’re choosing. I hope you can tolerate it. I don’t want to see you in surgery if that bone breaks again, or if you lose your balance because you’re too dizzy to properly execute a dance move.”
Siobhan’s stricken gasp followed him like a bad dream when he stalked from her office and slammed the door closed.
****
AJ needed solitude and a chance to regroup, to analyze the emotional waves that continued to engulf him. Never one to lose control or live life in confusion, he had to figure out how to move forward.
He angled toward the glassed entrance of the studio, eying his car not far away. He craved escape; his sedan was parked in a front spot at the municipal lot. Just when AJ’s fingers touched the push-bar of the door, Liam bounded forward and cut off the retreat. Hand extended for a congratulatory shake, Siobhan’s brother wore a broad smile. AJ accepted the gesture, trying hard to act natural—not like some displaced fool for love.
“You were fantastic. Thank you for the reinforcement in there.” Liam jerked a thumb toward the sidewalk outside. “You can’t be thinking of going already. Unacceptable.” He clapped a hand on AJ’s shoulder, returning him to the center of the lobby along with everyone else. “Hang out for a bit. I was looking for you afterward. Where’d you go?”
“Why were you searching? Everything OK?”
Hoping his diversion would work, AJ surrendered all thoughts of leaving. He focused a friendly countenance upon Liam instead.
“Actually, I’ve got a proposition for you. My mom and dad are hosting a family gathering on Sunday. Music, Irish dancing, and way too much food. It’s kind of a tradition—especially after moments like this when we get to cheer one another on.”
Siobhan stepped into AJ’s field of vision. She scowled at her brother, not that Liam could see it from his present angle. A duffle bag was hoisted upon her slim, delicate shoulder. Without a thought AJ slid the strap from her grasp and took custody. She shouldn’t have to haul around—
“So, are you in, Coop? After all, I think it’s high time you met the folks.” Liam focused on his sister. “Wouldn’t you agree, sprite?”
While Siobhan huffed and gaped, AJ shuffled his feet. “Well, actually, I’ve already met them—”
Amusement crinkled into smile lines around Liam’s eyes while his teasing grin spread and a devilish demeanor rose to the surface. “Indeed, but only as her doctor…not as her…well, you know…significant other.”
A blast furnace would have been preferable to the escalation of ruddy heat that coated AJ’s skin, and he couldn’t even begin to hazard a glance in Siobhan’s direction.
“Liam, I swear…”
Siobhan’s hiss of warning went unheeded. Liam’s posture remained unrepentant and ebullient. “Actually, you don’t swear. That’s one of your few redeeming qualities.” He chucked her under the chin. “Let mom know if you’re plus one for dinner this weekend, OK?”
Bewildered, AJ tried to regain some form of ease and equilibrium. Did Siobhan even want him there? He couldn’t tell by looking at her. Her face was kind enough, yet stoic. Unreadable. Most likely, that’s just what she wanted.
There was no graceful way to refuse, and in spite of everything, AJ wanted to spend time with Siobhan in the context of her family and closest friends in a relaxed, informal setting. Doing so just might help him answer some of the questions and turmoil he now faced.
While people brushed past, and the crowd broke off into smaller cliques, Siobhan attempted to wrest the duffle from his hold. Prepared for just such a maneuver, AJ maintained a solid grip, stubbornly refusing to let her disconnect from him.
Maybe dinner with her family wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.
10
Siobhan brewed and stewed, at varying temperatures, straight through to Sunday. While her parents’ home filled with dinner guests, she forced herself into an honest and forthright episode of self-confrontation.
Truth of the matter? She adored AJ. Further, she couldn’t—and wouldn’t—be rude to the man, especially after all he had done to stand up for her and support her when she needed it most.
All the same, that didn’t completely excuse his pushy behavior. Honestly. Men. Didn’t they understand she was capable? Between Liam and AJ, she fought hard against the notion that she was some kind of helpless woman in need of a big, strong protector.
Nonetheless, gratitude, paired with a rising and undeniable tide of love, gradually eroded her temper and soothed her disposition. She’d make it through this mess, by God’s grace and sheer dent of will.
Siobhan greeted friends and family, keeping an eye on AJ as he made rounds. He was becoming quite the steady fixture in her life, and he mixed comfortably with the ones who formed her inner circle.
Your significant other.
Oh, curse Liam, anyhow for the transparent and unrepentant way he had described her relationship with AJ. But the idea was also very appealing…
Before long, violin music poured through the jam-packed living room. Exuberant shouts carried through the air accompanied by rhythmic clapping, loud conversations and lots of laughter. No way could Siobhan resist the call of a lively reel performed with gusto by her uncle Gerard. She leapt to her feet. In passing, she stroked his shoulder and beamed a smile. She made her way along the furniture, which had been moved to the sides of the expansive space, and grabbed the hands of her nieces and nephews. Soon her selected tribe fell into a line and a step dance began. Even a few of the adults joined in, cutting loose with stomps, kicks, and flurries of foot work.
Those who didn’t dance kept time to the beat and called out encouragement as the dancers dazzled.
Siobhan kept her upper body rod-straight, her arms tight to her sides. Responding only to the call of her spirit, she refused to miss a beat. The exercise assured her of the fact that AJ was unnecessarily concerned about her abilities. Granted, step dancing required no spins and twirls, but still, she built her endurance step by step…battle line by battle line. The pain in her leg decreased day by day.
Plate of food in hand, AJ claimed an empty chair not far away, so, she shot her physician a saucy grin and lifted her chin, playing to him for a moment as the magic and beauty of dance worked through her soul. He grinned right back, but shook his head. She knew he got the message she delivered. For sure, she wasn’t out of the woods yet, but rumors of her defeat, she decided, were greatly exaggerated.
Choosing to lose herself in the music, Siobhan tossed her head and left behind all other thoughts. Beads of s
weat built and trickled. She welcomed every salty drop that tickled her skin. Physical exertion became a familiar and welcome elixir. Wisps of hair worked free from her ponytail, skimming her jaw and neck as she moved. The reel worked toward its conclusion and gradually the participants moved away, allowing Siobhan a showcase that finished off the piece to thundering approval.
Swept into hugs and teasing banter, she breathed deep of free motion, of life…and when her gaze tagged AJ, she realized anew how atypically harsh and volatile she had been toward him. He deserved much better. Although she had dreaded this gathering of friends and family due to her uncomfortable parting with him a few days ago, this afternoon’s dinner fest transformed into just the pick-me-up she needed.
She cut a path toward the chair where AJ sat conversing in a happy, animated way with her mom, but Liam cut her off.
“Those gams of yours are looking great, sis. No issues I can see.”
Siobhan worked to even out her breathing, and she perched her hands on her hips. “It’s a process. The muscles are definitely weak, but what a great way to regain strength, right?”
Liam nodded. “Now, if we could just work that same level of magic on your psyche as well.”
Siobhan shot him a questioning look. “What do you mean by that?”
Her twin nieces wrapped their arms around her waist and began to battle for attention. So much for cornering AJ in the near future—but that was OK. She twirled her fingers through a matching set of blonde hair rife with curly-cues and dotted each upturned nose with a kiss.
“How’s the car hunt going these days?”
Siobhan went stiff and glowered. “Oh, how I detest you.”
Siobhan's Beat Page 9
