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“Ta-da” I say, grinning and waving jazz hands out wide.
TJ claps, at first in total awe before speeding up. He was always my biggest fan, at least before when it was ballet. “Wow, Allie-gator. That was . . . you are . . . wow.”
Getting up, I do a silly curtsy, holding out an imaginary skirt and smiling. “Thank you.”
We both laugh as I sink to the floor beside him, and it feels right between us again for a moment, like we’re still those same kids who stayed up late watching movies and annoying Dad with our feigned confusion when he’d tell bad jokes.
“So, what’d you think?”
TJ shakes his head. “I about lost my lunch when you took a dive toward the floor. I thought for sure I was gonna be mopping up your brains and having to tell Mom that I watched while you fell on your head. Not that I haven’t done that before.”
I mime holding a phone up to my ear, “Hey, Mom, TJ just let me plummet to my death and didn’t even try to stop me.” I let all the child-like whine I can muster into my voice to sell it.
He grins, a genuine happy smile, and it feels good to have this moment with him, no Janine, no Dominick, no awkwardness after the fight.
He sobers slightly, “Allie, you’re really good. I didn’t realize you could do all that.” He bites his lip like he’s looking for words. “I don’t want to see you dressed for work, but I could watch you do that all day. It’s like you took all your ballet, added some gymnastics to it, and then went vertical. Oh, and decided to add spins just for shits and giggles because why the hell not?”
I glance at the pole, agreeing. “That’s pretty much the theory.”
He clears his throat and strokes at his chin. “Will you tell me about the club? I want to understand.”
I look into his eyes, searching for any ill intent, but it seems like he’s almost trying to be supportive, accepting. “I’ve been there for a while now. It’ll sound weird, but it’s a good place. Dominick makes sure it’s clean and safe, and the staff there are good people. I’ve made friends, almost a family of sorts there. We look out for each other. It’s just lingerie, although the outfits are . . . you’re right, you don’t want to watch. But it’s okay. I’m comfortable with it now, just another costume, you know? And I make really good money. I’ve already paid off over half of my treatment center bills. You know there’s no other way I could’ve done that, and Mom and Dad shouldn’t have to.”
“It really does seem like you love it, but I can’t help but feel like I failed you or something. I didn’t realize back then how dire things had gotten for you, and you’re still dealing with the fallout of that financially. I feel like I should’ve given you my enlistment bonus or been sending you my deployment bonuses to make it easier for you to move on. It’s not like Janine needed it.”
We’re in dangerous territory again, and I hurry to steer the subject back to safe territory, not wanting to test the tenuous truce we’ve called.
“Just that you’re making the offer says a lot about you, TJ. You supported me through all my years of dance and all my years of recovery. I’m at a good place now, healthy and financially independent. And dancing. I thought I would never get to dance again, but I get to dance every day. Here,” I say, gesturing around us at the studio, “and at the club. I won’t be there forever. I’m already stepping back and doing just features instead of weekly shows. But I get to dance, TJ. Maybe it’s not how I always dreamed, but I get to dance.”
He nods, but I can see there’s still hesitation in his eyes. But he’s trying and that means a lot to me.
He’s known about my job at Petals, but it was always sort of surface, cerebral but not in his face. I think being here, it’s gotten a lot more real, and it’s hitting him harder than either of us expected.
I can understand that because I can’t say I was ecstatic about his joining the Army when he told me he was enlisting. I wanted him to go to college, maybe find a frat he could act like an idiot with some before landing a six-figure job. Kind of the stereotypical high-school senior dream. But nope, he just decided to do his own thing, and I was terrified he was never going to come home again, or even if he did, that he’d be so different that I wouldn’t recognize him.
But I’ve mostly gotten over myself and my fears and supported the hell out of him while he was serving, sending care packages and letters every chance I could. That’s what family is supposed to do, support you the best they can even when they don’t necessarily agree with what you’re choosing. And he is different, but not in the way I’d feared. He’s harder, stronger, and more cynical, but he’s still my Teej under the tough shell.
