Marcia Talley - Dead Man Dancing

Laurie padded past me barefoot in her underwear – blue denim boxer-style briefs and a matching lace-trimmed bra – and leaned against the tiles next to the private shower-room door. ‘Besides,’ she caroled back, her voice echoing hollowly from wall to wall, ‘in a minute I’ll be surrounded by munchkins in tutus, and I’m not going to strip off in front of them .’

Melanie, who had been quiet up to this point, screwed up her mouth. ‘I don’t like community showers much, either. You can pick up all kinds of diseases in there. Legionnaires’, athletes’ foot, plantar warts, ringworm…’

Alicia poked her head into the room, a welcome interruption to Melanie’s litany of disease. ‘Ladies, we’re waiting for you!’

‘Why?’ Melanie wanted to know.

I stood up and tapped my heels together experimentally. ‘They want us to tango.’

‘Oh, good! Hutch and I will be practicing with you tonight.’ Melanie leapt to her feet. ‘You’ll love the tango, Hannah. It’s so sexy! Let me show you.’ She demonstrated the steps, dancing slowly around the dressing room. ‘Slow, slow, quick-quick, slow. Slow, slow, quick-quick, slow!’

I copied her as closely as I could, but stumbled on the last quick-quick-slow.

‘It might help to remember it this way: walk, walk, tango-close,’ Melanie said, demonstrating the steps as she talked.

Alicia opened the door and sing-songed, ‘La-dies, we are wait-ing!’

‘OK,’ I yelled, and the two of us scurried out.

I found Paul, Melanie found Hutch, Daddy and Neelie were holding hands, ready to go. Ruth still sat on a bench, her broken leg propped up on a chair, drinking a Diet Coke from a can, and there was no sign of Shirley or her daughter.

I expected Alicia to be teaching the session with Chance, but when Chance cued up ‘ Olé Guapa’ and hurried out on to the floor, Jay materialized out of nowhere and waved him aside.

‘ Caminar es todo! The walk is everything,’ Jay announced, taking Alicia’s hand.

I watched Chance back off the dance floor, darkly scowling. When Jay wasn’t looking, he shot a bird at his back.

‘What’s that all about?’ Paul wondered aloud.

I squeezed his hand. ‘Tonight it appears we’re getting the A-team.’

I was throwing together a quick dinner for Paul and myself involving a combination of Campbell’s Golden Mushroom soup, sour cream and chicken breasts, when the phone rang. Using my free hand, I continued layering paper-thin slices of chipped beef in the bottom of a glass baking dish, picked up the phone with the other.

‘Eva! How’s it going? Any more gifts or visits from the persistent Jeremy?’

‘None, thank goodness. But, I’ve been attending the seven thirty service at St Anne’s,’ she continued, ‘so perhaps that’s why. Jeremy isn’t exactly the Rite One type.’

‘I’m surprised. You’d think he’d be right on board with “Ye who do truly and earnestly repent you of your sins”. How’s it going at the Hall of Records?’

‘Splendidly. I’m anticipating being finished with the project by mid-March, which is one of the reasons I called you today. Rev Chase and I have been talking to the bishop, and we’ve agreed that I will resume my duties at St Cat’s on the first Sunday after Easter.’

Feeling so happy about this news that I thought my heart would beat its way clean out of my chest, I turned to the calendar hanging on the cabinet next to my kitchen phone. I flipped up the page for February (Glacier National Park in winter) and turned to March (The Dry Tortugas, Florida). ‘That’ll be March 30th?’ I asked, picking up a pencil.

‘Yes.’

‘Eva, I’m marking it down on my calendar right now, and Paul and I will be there with bells on.’

‘I know you and Paul will, Hannah, but I worried about the rest of my congregation. You remember how nasty it got when Roger…’ Her voice trailed off.

How could I forget? When Roger Haberman was unmasked as an Internet pedophile on network TV, half the congregation stood by Pastor Eva staunchly, while the other half petitioned for her resignation. And half of them were picking up stones. I was casting about for words of encouragement to send Eva’s way, but coming up short.

‘Your friends will be there, Eva. And some of your detractors, too, if only to satisfy their curiosity.’

‘I’ll bet. Does she still have horns? Where’s she hiding her forked tail?’

‘Don’t be silly. Once the service starts, you’ll have them in the palm of your hands. Certainly by the time the sermon is over. I’m sure of it.’

There was silence on the other end of the line as Eva considered what I had said. While I waited, I stretched out my arm and set the oven to 350°F. Eventually Eva sighed, then said, ‘I was wondering if you’re free for lunch on Friday.’

‘You’re not going to believe why I’m not.’

‘I knew I should have asked you sooner. What’s up, if you don’t mind my asking.’

‘Remember that dance show I was telling you about, the one that Hutch is going to participate in?’

‘ Shall We Dance? I do. How’s Ruth’s leg doing, by the way?’

‘Fine, if you measure rate of recovery in inverse proportion to shortness of temper.’

Eva chuckled. ‘Sounds like our Ruth. So, how is Ruth handling the idea that Hutch is competing with someone else? What’s her name?’

‘Melanie.’

‘Right. So, what’s that got to do with you standing me up for lunch on Friday?’

I explained about Hutch and Melanie’s schedule, then said, ‘CNT is taping the auditions, and Hutch has managed to snag a few tickets. On Friday, I’ll be standing in line at the Hippodrome Theater in Baltimore, waiting to be part of the studio audience.’

In fact, Hutch had five tickets. I counted off quickly on my fingers. Paul, me, Ruth, Chloe…‘Eva, if Hutch hasn’t already given it away, we have an extra ticket. I’d love it if you could come, too.’

‘Sounds like fun. I’ve never been to the taping of a TV show before.’

‘There’s usually a lot of hurry up and wait, but if that’s a yes, great. You can spell me with Ruth and her blasted wheelchair.’

‘It must be hard for Ruth to see someone take her place in the competition, and with her fiancé, no less.’

‘As cranky as she is sometimes, Ruth’s resigned to it, and she and Melanie have actually become friends. Melanie is a no-nonsense, stick-to-the-rules kind of person, very disciplined when it comes to her dancing. Like Hutch. When they’re together it’s all about the dance. Work, work, work. Blood, sweat and tears. I’d be surprised if Ruth perceived Melanie as a threat.’

‘Did you say Melanie’s an army wife? May account for the discipline.’

‘Too true. But Ruth’s been rock-solid, too.’ I chuckled. ‘She’s appointed herself team manager, videotaping the practice sessions, advising on costumes.’

‘What do you think of their routine?’

‘I hear their tango is so hot it may set the Hippodrome on fire. Jay’s been doing the choreography and Ruth says it’s brilliant.’ I stretched out the phone cord as far as it would go, opened the oven, and slid the baking dish in. ‘But you’ll see it soon enough. We’re leaving early in the morning, around six a.m.’

‘Assuming Hutch still has the free ticket, I’ll bring a Thermos of hot coffee and a bag of donuts and be at your house by five forty-five.’

‘Sounds like a plan.’

On Thursday night, Hutch called a summit.

It was well past midnight, and we were still gathered around my dining-room table, in the center of which sat a straw placemat and a box of day-old donuts from Carlson’s. Day-olds from Carlson’s were better than oven-fresh from just about anywhere else.