J.M. Jeffries - Love Tango

Roxanne countered, hating to see her sister deprive herself. The industry was merciless on women who weren’t a size two. “One decadent meal isn’t going to kill your figure.”

Portia looked thoughtful. “I can always spend a little more time working out tomorrow.”

Roxanne took the wine bottle and put it in the refrigerator to chill.

“Are we celebrating something?” Portia asked.

“I just felt like doing something special.” Donna opened a cabinet and pulled out a large pan. “How did your first rehearsal go?”

“My feet hurt,” Roxanne said. “I want to soak my abused toes and everything else in between that and my ears. I stepped on Nick’s toes so many times, I’m surprised they aren’t broken, and tripped over my own feet. I lost count after five.”

“That bad, was it?” Donna said.

“And that wasn’t the worst part. Mommy and Daddy showed up.”

Donna’s eyes narrowed. “And they wanted what?”

“They want me to read that script Portia brought a couple weeks ago.” Roxanne sat down at the table and cupped her chin in the palm of one hand.

Donna poured herself a glass of iced tea and sat down at the table with them. “What are you going to do?”

“Nothing,” Roxanne replied.

“Don’t you want to help them?” Donna asked.

“No.”

Donna grinned and walked over to the table. Putting an arm around her granddaughter’s neck, she said, “Just testing you.”

Roxanne hugged her grandmother.

“Forget the wine, we need the hard stuff.” Donna straightened, opened the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of tequila.

Roxanne burst out laughing. “Is that your answer to everything?”

“It is. Especially since you girls are both over the age of twenty-one. Margaritas, anyone?” Donna then opened the refrigerator and brought out a bottle of margarita mix and limes. “I made myself a solemn promise. If I exercise every day, I can drink margaritas.”

“Didn’t you spend an hour at the gym this morning doing Pilates?”

“Just so I can have a cocktail,” she said to Roxanne.

Portia shook her head. “Grandma, you’re my hero.”

Roxanne hugged her grandmother. “Mine, too.”

“Then we’re going to sit down, put our heads together and figure out what we can do to foil my DNA’s contribution to the future.” Donna pulled out the blender.

“Grams,” Roxanne said, “At some point you have stop blaming yourself for Mom and Dad’s decisions. Life is a crapshoot.”

Portia jumped to her feet to retrieve ice from the freezer. She filled a bowl and handed it to Donna who dumped it into the blender, then added tequila and margarita mix. Roxanne stood and opened a cabinet and brought out the margarita glasses.

“What are our options?” Portia asked.

Donna thought hard for a moment. “Just ignore them. That irritates them the worst.”

“Having my parents back in my life would bring up all the old anger, resentment and distrust. I don’t need them.”

“Then option two would be figuring out a way to get them to back off,” Donna continued.

“Maybe if I accused them of stalking...” She doubted an accusation would stop them. They were too determined. “Is there an option three?”

“Pack up and move to Norway,” Portia said.

“Paris,” Donna said, “and you’d have a deal.”

“London,” Portia said. “I don’t speak French.”

“There’s an island right in the middle of the Channel,” Roxanne said with a laugh. “We could go there.”

“What would you do?” Roxanne asked. She trusted her grandmother implicitly.

Donna pursed her lips. “Let your parents initiate all the drama. I think in the long run, it reflects badly on them and not you, no matter how hard they try to spin it otherwise.”

Roxanne spun all the information through her mind. Maybe she needed to stop worrying that bad stuff was going to happen. After all, the endgame was building her business and making Nancy happy, not diving headfirst back into show business. Her bit parts were enough, and even those were becoming less and less appealing as they pulled her away from her true passion of genealogy.

Her grandmother took her hand. “What happens, happens. You have no control over your parents and what they think or do. All you have to do is act in the gracious manner you’ve cultivated all these years. Be classy. Be above the madness.”

Roxanne closed her eyes. She would try, but with her parents on her back, it was hard to rise above it.

She just hoped her parents didn’t interfere too much. She needed her head in the game so she didn’t let everyone at Celebrity Dance down.

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