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“What about if she’s hurting herself in the process?” I mull over my next words before I say them. Pretty sure they’re gonna make me sound like a girl. “What if it hurts me?”
“Do you love her, Ares?”
One simple question with no simple answer.
“It’s complicated.”
“And...” Dad pushes back, and I give in.
“Yeah. I do.”
“Then the answer is simple, . I named you after the goddamned god of war... You fight for her. Because there is nothing more important in the entire world than love. The love of a good woman. The love a father has for his children and grandchildren. It’s why I wake up every day and why I say a prayer before I go to bed every night. Fight for it the way you’ve fought for everything you’ve ever wanted your entire life. It was all leading to this.”
“I don’t know, Pop. I’m not sure she feels the same way,” I admit, knowing I asked her point blank yesterday and she didn’t answer. “I think there comes a time when you have to walk away from a fight if that person isn’t willing to fight for themselves or you.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. But you’ve always been stubborn and needed to learn things the hard way. So you do what you feel like you’ve got to do. But try to keep an open mind, and don’t wait too long, Ares. Life waits for no man.” He stands a little slower than normal and grabs our mugs. “Now. With that in mind, what do you say you make us some bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches.”
“Mom said no bacon, Pops. It clogs your arteries.” I open the door and wait for him to walk through. How about an egg white omelet?” I ignore him grumbling and head to the kitchen. He told me to fight. Might as well pick this as my first hill to stand on.
GRACE
Grace
I miss you.
He leaves me on read again, and I fight the urge to cry as I stare at my phone.
It’s been days, and I haven’t heard a word from him. The only reason I even know he’s still in Maine is because Nixon mentioned it this morning when he stopped by.
Grace
Nix told me your dad is doing good and that you guys went fishing. Hope you caught a big one.
I start and stop a million messages, but in the end, I delete them all and close out of my texts. I’ve got an audition to stretch for.
I’m a ball of tangled nerves as I step on the grand stage of one of the oldest ballet companies in the country. The Philadelphia City Ballet may be less prestigious than The Royal Ballet or the New York City Ballet, but there are few others in the world that can hold a candle to the tradition of beauty they’re steeped in. Though, as I take center stage and wait for the music to begin, I can’t help but wonder if the nerves are hitting so hard because I’m nervous I won’t get the part or I’m terrified that I will.
“Thank you for coming in to audition for us today, Ms. Sinclair.” The artistic director calls out from third row center, where he’s flanked by who I’m guessing is the assistant artistic director and possibly a board member. They sit in a tight pod, prepared to dissect my every move.
“We are very big fans of your mother and appreciate her letting us know that someone of your caliber with your family history was currently available. A bit unusual though. Would you mind telling us why you’re no longer with The Royal Ballet?”
“I needed to take time to rehab an injury, and in doing so, I realized how much I missed being home. As you’re well aware, Philadelphia is my home. This is the company I grew up dreaming of.” I wait, hoping they don’t see my unease and relax slightly when they smile.
“Very good, Ms. Sinclair. Let’s get started, shall we?” He nods toward the wings where I’m sure my music is being queued up, and I slide into place, prepared to give the performance of a lifetime.
“Brynn... how long are you going to ignore me?” I ask as I plop down next to her on the couch with a bowl of ice cream for each of us.
Yup.
I’m resorting to bribery.
“Brynnie, it’s been over a week.” I hold the strawberry ice cream with chocolate syrup and diced-up strawberries covered in whipped cream out in front of her face and slide it back and forth under her nose. “I got your favorite from the new ice creamery on Main Street. They make it fresh.”
Then I give up and take a big spoonful of the deliciousness and moan. “Come on, Brynn. It’s so good.”
Finally, she pushes her glasses on top of her head and looks up from her laptop at me. “You can’t buy your way out of this with ice cream, Grace. Not this time. Did you take the job?”
“They haven’t offered it to me yet.”
