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I giggle, the wine now doing its work. “So he goes by Jack? That doesn’t exactly give off the philosopher vibe, now does it?”
“Nope. But in the eyes of other people, at least that nickname affords him the possibility of being named John, a solid old-world name. Or even Jackson spelled traditionally, like he’s descendant from some established southern family.”
“He could change it legally.”
“I’m sure that’s crossed his mind.” She sighs. “I’m making him out to be ridiculous and he’s not. He’s a good man. We’re just at a crossroads, I guess.”
I nod, even though I’m not really sure what she means. Miss Dawson seems as young and bubbly as she always has. Back in high school all of the boys crushed on her. She barely seemed old enough to be a teacher, but when you sat in her class there was no question about who was in charge. No one ever dared to make a crude comment or to challenge her in any way. And who in their right mind would want to be on her bad side? No, she had so much positive energy that you wanted a piece of it, for some of it to rub off on you.
“But enough about me.” She signals to the waitress for some water. “Do you think maybe you have too much time on your hands? I know classes can be tough, especially when you’re balancing a full course load, but maybe a part-time job or joining a club would help?” Before I can answer she breaks into a seated full-body groove. “Maybe joining the dance squad would be just what the doctor ordered.”
I look around to see if she’s making a spectacle of herself, while it’s obvious that she couldn’t care less. I need some of what she’s got.
“I have a work study job in the education department office, but it’s only eight hours a week. That’s all I qualify for since I have a full scholarship, which is bananas. I’m not exactly a Rockefeller.”
“And what about dance? It would be a great way to meet people.”
Feeling more hopeful than I have in weeks, I nod. “Yeah, I will look into that.” I look down for a moment, fiddle with my napkin in my lap when I say, “I always wanted to dance in high school.”
“Oh my God! What stopped you?”
“I made this dumb pact with myself when we started freshman year. No more twinsies. I’d be different. Sienna took Spanish, I took German. She stayed with piano, I took guitar even though I hated it. Sienna joined the dance team, I became a cheerleader.” Looking back up to her I add, “I mean, we were basically joined at the hip otherwise, so there was really no point.”
“Look on the bright side. You now sprechen sie deutch and play guitar.”
A laugh escapes. “Um, no, I don’t deutsch sprechen. You got that translation wrong but I’m hardly any better. I barely got through that course. And I can only play the opening chords ofSmoke on the Water, same as every other failed rocker.”
She channels Madonna. “But you can dance.”
“Yup.” I find myself imitating her ridiculous seat dance. “At night, I lock the doors so no one else can see.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “I’m coming to the recital this spring and you better be up on that stage.”
I sound ballsy to my own ears, accepting the challenge. “Maybe I will be.”
On the sidewalk outside, she hugs me close and I do the same, feeling like I just got a shot of much-needed adrenaline.
“Hey, in a few weeks I told Jack I’d go to some faculty benefit concert thing with him. They’re boring as all get out and he usually abandons me to kiss up to the department chairs, but sometimes the music is good. Want to come? You’d be doing me a solid.”
Being that I have absolutely nothing on my social calendar, I accept. She takes my number and I program hers into my phone.
Before she turns to go, I hug her again and thank her.
“For what?”
“For dinner and…For everything.”
Part Two
It’s Hard to Be a Saint in the City
Chapter Six
Skylar
I’m here twenty minutes early. It’s become routine.
I like practicing in front of the mirror for a little while before the rest of them show up to start stretching. I’m rusty and I don’t like feeling as if I don’t belong.
