As honest as Ciana’s being, she’s also starting to get more than a little exhausted by having some version of this same conversation every other week. She can’t tell anymore if it’s motivated by genuine concern or an attempt to pry and find out if she and Weldon are planning to reunite - which, as has been mutually agreed on, they are not.
“I know you are, Ciana,” she says. “I’m just allowed to worry, that’s my job. But you’re right, there’s probably no need for me to fret. I just want both of you two to be happy.”
“Then we all want the same thing,” Ciana answers, stirring her ingredients in the pan. She realizes then she’s forgotten to pour in the sauce she mixed, so she reaches for the glass measuring pitcher and adds it then, slowly stirring. Amazingly enough it seems to look quite normal. She smiles to herself, thinking maybe she might just be getting the hang of at least one recipe.
Her mother’s continuing to say something in the background, but then Ciana hears the rice cooker beep at her and she’s ready to move on.
“Mom, this has been great, but I have to go finish up here. We’ll talk soon, okay? And in a couple weeks I’ll try to come by after the show, I’m sure Weldon will want to say hello in person, too.”
“Oh, that would be lovely,” her mother exclaims. “Tell him I look forward to it.”
“Thanks Mom, love you too,” she says dryly. But she blows her kisses before signing off.
Ciana turns off all of the pans and appliances, then, leaving the rest of the counter strewn with cooking detritus as she fixes herself a plate. She takes it and a glass of water over to the dining table and settles in to eat. The first bite tastes slightly over-cooked, but all in all, not bad.
Not so bad at all, she thinks to herself, and continues her solo meal happily.
*
Back when the school year started he’d received a few invitations to visit some local schools. The usual speeches and mingling with the kids’ classes, sharing his medals and doing photos. He hadn’t had as much time as he’d liked for it last year, what with touring into the beginning of winter and then feeling out his new role at the dance studio. So this year he decides to accept at least a few of them, and the beginning of November turns out to be a good time to do it now that he’s gotten National Ballroom Dance Association behind him. He likes doing these kinds of things better with Ciana by his side, but since that doesn’t always work out, and she’s got her own schedule to keep these days, he goes ahead solo.
He decides to do a round of these appearances in the same week while he has time - first a middle school and an elementary school not far from the studio. The kids are mostly keen, especially when their teachers remind they’re talking to a dance champion. The best part is always when he brings out the trophies and medals and passes them around.
Weldon finishes the week with a visit to a middle school in Stanton, a combined group of several classes at once. He talks about what it’s like to compete nationally and internationally and how you have to train very hard and practice a lot, and do a lot of thinking and planning to get there. But that it’s also a lot of fun, and you get to meet a lot of amazing people, and visit really great cities around the world. He notices a lot of the girls paying rapt attention, and several of the boys. He wonders how many future dancers are among them.
They’re good kids, if a little bouncy - it’s Wednesday afternoon and he can tell the teachers all have slightly weary looks on their faces. When it comes time to share the medals it’s quite orderly to start, but then a few of the younger boys start arguing over who gets to hold one of the medals first. One of the teachers who helped introduce him – Aviana?- deftly starts jumping in with some stern looks to a couple of the boys. Impressively, it works.
Weldon smiles at her appreciatively but also makes sure to help her out a bit. He reminds the group how special these medals are and how they really belong to everyone in the country - so it’s very important to hold them carefully and remember they’re very lucky to get to hold them, not everyone gets to do that.
They finish with photos of the whole class, as always, and then a few photos with just the teachers. And then, the school bell rings.
“Wait!” Aviana holds up her hands, and miraculously most of the group stops in their tracks. “Everyone please say a big thank you to Mr. Fensworth, for visiting us today, we all enjoyed it, right?”
“Thank you,” rings out a chorus of voices. A couple of girls give delighted waves.
“Ok, everyone line up at the door, please,” she ushers them into line. She nods at one of the other teachers, who is already waiting at the door. Once they’re in line, they are released, and run for their lockers, ready for the end of the day.
Weldon shakes hands with the teachers remaining - a science teacher named Yennefer, and Eustace, the school principal - graciously brushing off thank you’s. Aviana comes over to shake hands then as well. She trades places with Yennefer, who says something about being on bus duty.
“Thank you, Mr. Fensworth, that was great. Believe it or not that was just about the most well-behaved I’ve seen them for any of our guest speakers, even the boys.”
“Ah, they’re fine,” he says. “I remember being that age and hardly being able to sit still, either. And please, call me Weldon.”
“But you seemed to do okay on the dance floor,” she smiles. “Thank you again for giving us your time today, Weldon.”
“Oh not at all, the pleasure was mine.” He looks back at her and forgets for a moment what he was going to say next. She has such a nice smile. And he liked the way she was with the students - firm but calm, and warm.
“Give our best to your dance partner as well, we hope she’s doing well,” the principal says then.
“Oh yes, of course. I’m sure Ciana would have enjoyed being here, too, her studies are keeping her busy at the moment. But I’ll see her tomorrow at practice, I’ll be sure to tell her.”
He and Aviana offer to show Weldon out. On their way by the office the principal shakes his hand, thanking him once again and says his goodbyes, commenting that there’s no rest for the weary when it comes to paperwork. Weldon chuckles, agreeing with him there.
Aviana keeps on walking with him out to the parking lot.
“I know turning right would make more sense to get back onto the main road, but that will also put you in the path right behind most of the school buses - better to turn left and go around, trust me,” she says.
“Thank you, I’ll do that,” he answers with a laugh.
“I’m just looking out for you - traffic in this city is crazy, I’m sure you know, but school rush hour can be even worse, so many drivers just do not pay attention.”
“I appreciate the warning.”
“You and those gold medals of course. Do they get heavy to carry around all the time?”
“No, you get used to it. At least I don’t have to bring the trophies along. They’re much heavier. And I don’t actually get to carry the medals around that much, mostly just for special occasions.” He feels a bit of pride puff into his chest as he says it.
“Well,” she says, shaking his hand and smiling. “Thank you again for coming. I hope we have the pleasure again sometime.”
“Sure,” he answers, a bit too quickly. He finds himself fumbling in his pockets for a pen. “Here, let me give you my number, just in case-”
“I have it,” she interrupts kindly, still smiling at him. She has the nicest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, he thinks. “From the booking?”
“Oh, well that’s probably my management team,” he reasons. He finds a receipt and scribbles down his cell number without even thinking. “Here, in case you need to be in touch.”
She takes the paper from him, a little surprised, but not - he thinks - uninterested. “Thank you, Weldon. I will.”
He shakes her hand, again, a little more slowly and gently this time. He turns to leave, unlocking his car and stepping in. As he’s putting the key in the ignition he looks back
and sees her waiting. He waves, and she waves back.
As he drives off he can’t remember in the slightest what else he was supposed to be doing next that day.
CHAPTER THREE
“Little sis, you can’t seriously be getting this frustrated over a few test questions.”
“Joslyn, I swear these are ridiculous. What kind of system is this when my ability to study for a business degree might come down to my random ability to correct sentence structure?”
“It’s more than that and you know it. I bet you’re nailing the critical reasoning ones. I’m telling you, you’ve got this. It’s all about the practice tests.” She’s got her sister on speaker phone, surrounded by her textbooks and piles of notes.
“I know, you’re probably right.”
“How many times have you done the practice exam?”
“Twice,” Ciana admits sheepishly.
“Oh my God, you’re fine,” Joslyn says. “God, I only needed one try to sit the bar exam, you’ve got this, I’m telling you.”
“I know, but my score…”
“Was it a pass?”
“Well, yes, but…”
“You are allowed to study for the practice one more time and then you are sitting the exam, Cia. If kids ten years younger than you can pass it and move on with their lives, so can you.”
Ciana exhales, slumping over her books. “Okay. One more time. But I’m getting a better score this time, I know I can.”
“Dare I ask how practices are going?”
“With Weldon?”
“Of course I mean with Weldon.”
“They’re fine. We’re working on something new for the holiday dance show this year, Sam’s helping us with the steps. It’s new, but like...sort of like our earlier stuff, more classic. I think secretly Sam wants us to get back together again, though.”
“Ah well, you can’t blame him for that.”
“It’s getting a little old, Joslyn. We both agreed to split up, it was mutual - and it wasn’t like it was that easy to do, let me tell you.”
“I know,” Joslyn says quietly. “I know it wasn’t, I’m...I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry.”
“I know you didn’t,” Ciana exhales, thinking about what to say next. “I just hate that this is always going to follow us around. That question. We’re not together, we’re not even competing anymore. We’re friends. And we’re good together as friends,” she says thoughtfully, really meaning it.
“Yes?”
“Yes.” She pauses again, remembering the way he’d gotten into working on a new steps at their last practice, wanting to make sure it was right and asking to do it over and over until they were both happy with the result. “He’s still Weldon, you know?”
There’s silence on the other end for a moment. “I’m glad, Cia. I’m really, really glad. I’d hate it if you guys didn’t still have each other.”
The very idea makes Ciana start to feel numb. “Me too.”
*
Two weeks after his round of school visits Weldon’s driving back on a Saturday morning. He’s just finished an early morning dance practice with Ciana and Sam, fine tuning some choreography ideas for the holiday dance show. Now he’s meant to be running errands, but it’s still only mid morning and a wave of fatigue is starting to settle in. Not so young anymore, eh, Wel boy, he thinks ruefully.
He pulls up to a local cafe that’s new to him, thinking through his schedule for the rest of the day. Part of him wants to just scrap all of it and enjoy a lazy day for once. But then he’ll just regret having to do everything tomorrow. He joins the cafe line and stares at the menu, mentally upgrading his order to an extra large version of something.
As he contemplates the menu he realizes someone’s talking to him. “Mr. Fensworth? Weldon?”
“Yes, I-” He turns around and comes face to face with the teacher from Stanton. She’s dressed casually like she’s just come from a workout, or maybe just running around doing things like he’s meant to be doing just now. There are spots of pink in her cheeks and her bright red hair falls loose around her shoulders.
“It’s Aviana,” she says, holding out her hand. “Miss Sloane,” she adds, and he remembers the students calling her that. “You visited my school the other week?”
“Yes, I remember,” he says, shaking her hand back. “It’s nice to run into you.”
“You too. Are you...meeting someone?” she asks, glancing around. The cafe is only half full, a mix of young parents and a few solo students with their laptops.
“No, just needed some coffee. You?”
“I was meant to be meeting my aunt this morning, but she had to cancel at the last minute.” She holds up her phone, as if she’d just gotten the message on her way in. “But I really needed coffee,” she says with a sigh.
“I second that,” he says. “Please, allow me,” he offers, gesturing towards the cashier as they near the front.
“Alright, but only because I can’t say no to someone with three gold medals,” she jokes. “Triple Americano, please,” she orders.
“The same,” he tells the barista, who scribbles their order onto paper cups and then accepts payment from Weldon. “That’s a coffee order I can respect,” he says.
“I deal with twelve year olds all week, believe me you’d need that much, too, by the time you get to Saturday” she says.
“Clearly I need that much without having to deal with that many pre-teens, so I guess it’s a good thing I’m not in your shoes,” he jokes back.
“Touché.”
Their coffees come up a moment later and Weldon fixes hers for her - milk, no sugar, she tells him. “Would you like to join me for a few minutes?” he offers. Truly he has no idea what her day looks like, or if she’s even interested, but he finds himself wanting to keep talking to her.
“Sure,” she answers, and seems pleasantly surprised by the question. “If you don’t have anyone waiting on you,” she confirms again.
He shakes his head. “No. You’d be saving me from having to catch up on groceries and dry cleaning. Having coffee with you is a much better offer.”
“In that case, I’m happy to oblige.”
They find a table and sit down. He asks her more about her aunt that she was about to meet, and she asks him about what he's been up to since she saw him last. They talk, and keep talking and laughing, until their coffees are finished. And then, they keep talking some more.
When they part ways after a couple of hours it’s with a promise to meet again the next Saturday, same time and place. Weldon leaves with her number in his cell phone contacts, and a dazed smile on his face.
*
Over the next couple of Saturdays he shares more with Aviana, about himself and the things he’s working on, the things he’s hoping for in the future. But more importantly, he learns more about her.
He finds out she teaches a combination of social studies and physical education - she never really decided which one she liked better, so she stuck with both. She grew up idolizing athletes, and after trying both kinds of skiing as a child she decided she wanted to be a downhill racer. She even spent several years training hard enough to compete provincially and nationally.
By the time she was nearly through high school she’d had a serious discussion with her father and mother about aiming for a spot on the Olympic team. But in her second year of university a bad spill on the slopes left her with torn ligaments and dashed hopes. She’d recovered after some intensive months of physical therapy, but decided it wasn’t wise to keep competing. She’d switched to other athletics on a more casual basis, and thrown herself into her studies instead of pursuing sports.
He learns Aviana lost her mother to a sudden illness when she was just five, and then her father had remarried a few years after. She doesn’t remember much about her mother, but knows she loved music, and opera, and she remembers what her favorite pieces of jewelry were. Her father had passed away a few years ago from cancer. So, now it’s jus
t her on her own, her aunt Prince, and her stepbrother Rodney who now lives in another state with his wife. Her stepmother had moved away not long after Aviana’s father’s death.
Until last winter she’d been in a fairly long term relationship - three years - with a guy she reconnected with from her university years, but had parted ways when they realized they were looking for different things. She wanted a family, he didn’t. It nearly floors Weldon to hear that part.
Weldon finds himself wanting to spend more time with Aviana each time he sees her. She has a warm smile, a great laugh, and for all she can be firm with her students he can tell she genuinely cares about them and wants them to do well.
He tells her more about his career, the ups and downs he’s had. He finds she knows a little bit about ballroom dance, but not as much as other winter sports - and he’s oddly relieved. It feels good to be talking to someone from a different world, who understands the world of sports but isn’t consumed by it.
She listens as he tells her about the pairs he coaches, how old they are and what the differences are between them. She asks questions about his pairs, probes more about what kind of strategies he uses with them, what works and what doesn’t. He finds himself waiting for their next date so he can tell her more about what’s going on with his pairs, hear more of her ideas and questions.
By the time three weeks of coffee dates have passed he decides to invite her over for dinner, offering to cook for them. Amazingly, she says yes.
That night he kisses her for the first time - and then the second time, and the third. By their second dinner she decides she wants them to do more than kissing, which he is very, very happy to agree with. He takes her to bed, gently at first and then not so gently at all by the second time. He takes pleasure in pleasing her, in the way she reaches for him and stays nestled up against him as they fall asleep.
Entangled Hearts Page 3
