Colorado sunshine blazesthrough the window as banana bread crumbs fall from my mouth. Perched on my kitchen stool, I stuff the last bite in. Comfort captured in a moment. This dry mountain air on my skin, in my lungs. My toes in fuzzy socks point diagonally from my barstool, switching position absentmindedly in a seatedchangement. I blame Levi. My toes want to point and my legs extend since he asked me about ballet again.
My brothers are at school and have soccer till late tonight. I’ll see them Saturday. I consider texting friends who stayed in town or are visiting for break, but brakes squeal in my mind at the thought.
What was that?
I step from the island and try a pirouette. Yep, it’s like riding a bike, so to speak. A pirouette is far more natural to me than bike-riding. I try a double. Not great. It’ll take some more practice. Iuse the fireplace across the room to spot and try again. And again. Deep plié. Highpassé. Press my shoulders down. Spot once, twice.
I slide in my fuzzy socks back to my bar stool. Even in my failing, dancing again feels like … freedom. Freedom from my thoughts, my worries, the past, the future. I wonder if my ballet slippers are still around. Maybe in the basement? But my feet have grown since.
“You have a crazy month at work.” My parents are in Dad’s office, arguing like Hermione and Ron.
“Right, so it’s good timing for you,” Dad says.
A pause.
“What am I going to do with you?” Mom says.
“It’s settled then.” A grin in his voice. “Next Sunday for your day of solitude. Make me a list, and I’ll cover your stuff that day.”
“Thanks, darling. I’ll put in a good word for you when I talk to Jesus.”
Dad laughs.
Those two have something special, extraordinary even, something most married people don’t seem to have. The spark is still in their eyes, the like with the love, after all this time. They end every day chatting and joking on the front porch or on a walk. They choose each other over all the lesser things, even my brothers and me. Neither of them gets it right all the time—believe me, I’d know—but what they have is exactly what I want some day. My chest tightens. If that’s even on the table anymore.
I can’t sit still, so I stand and try the turn again.
Mom glides into the kitchen and catches me. “Was that a double?” She rests her hip on the island.
She remembers. I used to practice constantly. I could usually land a triple once upon a time.
“Nearly.”
“I love that you’re dancing again.”
I shrug. “Ready for our walk?”
“Ready.”
I pocket my phone by habit but lay it back on the island.Lately I have a stronger impulse than usual to check for messages, not that Levi sends me any. I had hoped he’d make an exception since we can’t talk otherwise. He doesn’t even have socials to stalk.
She notices with a Mom-smile and leads the way to the front door.
The crisp October breeze is a pleasure. Eighty degrees instead of a hundred is Texas’s idea of fall weather. Here, I wake to frost, and the streets brim with color. The trademark aspen-yellow, bright red, deep purple. A few trees still have their vibrant green leaves. A rainbow of color.
“It’s so beautiful, huh?” Mom says. “God timed your trip home perfectly to see this.”
“He really did.” The trees in the mountains must have already lost most of their leaves by now. I would have missed it all if I’d been a week later. “You’re going to the mountains to pray next weekend?”
“You heard about that? That man …” Mom calls him that when she’s feeling particularly affectionate.
I roll my eyes, but a smile tugs at my lips. Cringey as ever, but I wish Levi could meet them. “Anything specific you plan to pray about?”
“My time mostly. I want to be openhanded with it. Things are so different now that you three are growing up.” Her elbow nudges mine. “I could get a job, but it doesn’t always feel like the best way I can contribute. It’ll be so good to have space to listen. I need to know what Jesus wants from me.”
Now that I go to a Christian school, I know more than ever to appreciate that Mom never uses churchy language. She just talks about Jesus like the friend he is.
We stroll in comfortable silence down the sidewalk, surrounded by fall’s beauty. I wave to Judy across the street as she persuades Stella the basset hound down the sidewalk.
