Marcia Talley - Dead Man Dancing

‘What’s the matter?’ asked Paul as he skipped a beat to catch up.

‘Over there,’ I muttered without moving my lips. ‘Tessa and Jay.’

It was just like my dream, but instead of dancing with Hutch, Tessa was dancing with Jay. As Paul continued waltzing me around, I thought I’d get whiplash trying to keep my eyes on the pair.

Jay towered over the girl, but bent himself almost double in order to take her right hand in his left; Tessa’s left hand rested gracefully on his right forearm. As they waltzed, Jay adjusted his steps to match hers, taking mincing steps, as if his pants were too tight. It looked painful.

As I watched them dance, I had to admit that Tessa was good, really good. Shirley Douglas had every right to sit on the sidelines and beam, as I could see she was doing out of the corner of my eye.

As the music ended, Jay twirled Tessa several times under his arm, then keeping a firm grip on her hand, escorted Tessa back to her mother.

‘Was I good, Mommy?’ Tessa chirped.

I couldn’t hear Shirley’s reply, but she patted her daughter’s cheek. A split second later, Tessa turned and flounced off to the dressing room, her plaid skirt swishing around her thighs.

Jay, still standing with his back to me, began talking to Shirley, whose face grew suddenly serious.

I was trying to decide whether to eavesdrop on Jay and Shirley or dash off to the dressing room and corner a guileless nine-year-old when Kay popped out of the office, clipboard clutched to her chest. If looks had been arrows, Jay would have been instantly dead, pierced through head, neck and heart, and bleeding profusely. Kay turned on her sensible heels and stalked back into the office.

‘What’s that all about?’ I asked Hutch who had come up to join us.

‘I don’t know. Melanie was here earlier. Why don’t you ask her?’

I looked around. ‘Where’d she go?’

Hutch pointed toward the dressing room.

I was in luck. Tessa and Melanie. Two birds with one stone?

I trotted off to the dressing room where I found Tessa exchanging her Capezios for black and white saddle shoes. Since Melanie couldn’t escape from the ladies’ room without passing us by, I plopped down on the bench next to Tessa and watched silently while with tongue-protruding concentration, Tessa tightened the laces, tied her shoes.

‘I like those silver shoes,’ I said as Tessa tucked them into her dance bag. ‘And the red ones you wore last week were also very pretty.’

Tessa grinned. ‘I have silver jazz shoes, too, and pink Latin salsas.’ She stuck out a foot. ‘These look like my hip hop shoes, but they don’t have split soles.’

‘What’s a split sole?’ I asked, smiling, picturing the devil perched on my left shoulder arguing with an angel hovering over my right.

‘It’s in two parts. You can point easier.’

‘Oh, I see,’ I said, although I didn’t really. ‘Laurie Wainwright has a lot of gorgeous shoes. Did you see the green ones she’s wearing today?’

Tessa’s eyes narrowed and she said in a conspiratorial tone, ‘My mommy says a girl can never have too many pairs of dancing shoes.’

Words to live by.

‘Well, bye!’ Tessa snatched up her bag and before I could say ‘bye-bye’ myself, she’d disappeared through the door.

I was sitting on the bench cataloging my shoe collection – which didn’t take long – when Melanie came out of the bathroom, drying her hands on a paper towel. ‘Are you all right, Hannah? You look lost in thought.’

‘I was,’ I said, being careful to face Melanie head on. ‘I was just wondering why women are so enamored of shoes. My grandfather used to say, what’s the point, Hannah? You can wear only one pair at a time.’

‘By that logic, you should own only one light bulb and simply carry it around the house, screwing it in wherever you need it to see.’

‘Or one chair!’ I hooted. I patted the bench next to me. ‘Speaking of chairs, sit down for a minute. There’s something I want to ask you.’

Melanie sat and raised a curious eyebrow.

‘Out there a minute ago? Kay came out of the office and cut Jay dead. And earlier, when we first came in, I thought the atmosphere was a bit, um, thick?’

‘I didn’t catch all of it,’ Melanie explained, ‘but while Hutch and I were waiting for Kay to bring out the forms, she got hung up in the office with Jay. I could see only her part of the conversation, but I think they were having an argument.’

‘About what?’

Melanie shrugged. ‘I’m not sure; depends upon what was on the printout Kay balled up and tossed at his head. I saw her say, “How do you explain this?” If it was a bank statement or spreadsheet or something, then they might have been arguing about money.’ Melanie paused, wrinkling her nose in concentration. ‘But it could just as easily have been an anonymous email.’ She laughed. ‘You know, “If you wonder what your husband is doing on Wednesday nights when you think he’s at choir practice, check out Room 221 of the Quality Inn in Glen Burnie. Signed, A Friend.”’

‘Sometimes I wish I had taken a class in lip-reading rather than ASL,’ I chuckled. ‘It’s a skill that could come in handy.’

‘Yes, indeed.’ Melanie’s eyes went on scan, as if checking the room for bugs. ‘Ever curious about what Hillary Clinton said to her aide before stepping up to the podium at the debates?’

I nodded vigorously.

She leaned toward me and whispered. ‘Find Bill in whatever hotel room he’s in and hide him somewhere until the fucking campaign is over!’

I laughed so hard I was gasping for breath. ‘You’re making that up!’

Melanie grinned. ‘I am, alas. But it could happen.’

Melanie and I were still giggling when Laurie burst through the door, breathing heavily. She bowed at the waist, and rested her hands on her knees. ‘Anybody who tells me it’s the guy who does all the work in a lift, I’m going to pop ’em one on the side of the head.’

I’d watched Laurie and Tom practice ‘swallow’ lifts – she’d take a running leap into his arms and he’d raise her overhead with her back arched, legs straight, arms extended like wings. If Tommy miscalculated… well, it was a long way for Laurie to fall.

‘I remember that move from the end of Dirty Dancing ,’ I said. ‘Looks dangerous. Baby and Johnny practiced in a lake.’

‘I wish,’ Laurie panted. She crossed to her locker and wrenched the door open. Using both hands, she grabbed the hem of her shirt, whipped it off over her head, and used it to wipe the sweat from her face. ‘Whew! I’m ripe!’

‘Not so you’d notice,’ I said, taking a moment to loosen the buckles on the T-strap heels I’d bought especially for dancing.

‘Shower free?’

‘Think so. Want me to look?’

Next to me Melanie said, ‘I’ll check.’

In a moment Melanie was back. ‘Someone’s just finishing up in there, but the communal shower room is free and clear.’

Laurie groaned. ‘Not for me, girl. I’ve never bought into that Save Water, Shower with a Friend gig.’ She removed a fresh towel from her locker and draped it around her neck. ‘I’ve seen all the pitiful tits, asses, thongs and tattoos I need to in life, thank you very much.’

As I considered Laurie’s remark, I realized I hadn’t used a communal shower since sometime before my mastectomy. The plastic surgeon had done a masterful job of recreating my missing breast, considering the limited material he had to work with. But, outside the confines of my underwear, I was more than a bit lopsided, and my reconstructed nipple tended to point north rather than south.

Needless to say, Playboy magazine wouldn’t be calling to set up a photo shoot any time soon, and I didn’t think anyone else would appreciate a close-up view of my off-kilter anatomy either. Thankfully, Paul didn’t seem to mind.