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“Evie can’t take time off,” Mom would say, as if whatever Dad and I wanted didn’t matter.
I spent most of my weekends with Dad—unless his work demanded his presence elsewhere.If that were the case, I was either sent to stay with my paternal grandparents or shipped to a friend’s house for a sleepover.
“Evie needs me.It’s best if you stay with them,” Mom would utter in an apologetic tone each time I packed for a long weekend away.“Them” referred to whoever agreed to take me while Mom dedicated every waking moment to my sister’s dancing dreams.
The resentment in my heart grew bitter and angry.Evelyn had taken away my mother’s attention.And Dad was too caught up in his work or infatuated with Mom to notice me.
That Christmas was one of the worst.Our living room looked like a cheap recreation of theNutcrackerstage.According to Mom, if Evelyn devoted herself entirely to ballet, she might have a chance to audition for the Christmas recital the next fall.
“Imagine if she became the youngest Clara ever,” Mom would muse aloud.
That year, she forgot to buy me a present.It was the first time I witnessed Dad upset with her negligence toward me.Their confrontation was terrifying, yet satisfying.There was hope in my heart and a victory in my mind.
Maybe, just maybe, Mom would start noticing me again, acknowledging my presence.Dad had made a stand.
The rest of the Christmas break was back to normal.We reverted back to being a regular family, indulging in snowball fights, toasting marshmallows over the fireplace, and binging on holiday movies.I wish I could go back to those few days when we were happy, and nothing came between us.
After the big fight,Evie’s ballet training slowed down.Well, that’s what Mom wanted us to believe.The fact is that it became a well-guarded secret.Mom suggested that I find a hobby to keep me away from home.I tried various activities like softball, swimming, and drawing, but nothing interested me.That didn’t stop Mom, though.She persisted until she found something.
That’s when I discovered my love for horses.I could spend hours at the stable, riding and connecting with these magnificent creatures.Being with them gave me a sense of belonging, and spending hours brushing them gave me a sense of purpose.
Mom finally seemed satisfied with me.Looking back, it was less about my newfound hobby and more about my ability to keep myself entertained, allowing her to focus solely on Evie.
On weekends, it was Dad who accompanied me to the stables.
For my tenth birthday, he surprised me with my very own horse.It was the best gift I had ever received.I named him Starlight.Although I couldn’t bring him home, the fact that he was mine alone brought me immense joy.I wouldn’t have to share him with Evie.
It was the best year of my entire life.I had my own horse, and most importantly, Evelyn didn’t get a part inThe Nutcracker.Her failures somehow became my victories.
Well, she didn’t fail.The academy wouldn’t allow her to audition for any role until she turned six.Even when Mom assured the director that she was ready to play Clara, we later found out that the role was only given to girls twelve and older.
Unsurprisingly, Mom devised a new plan.We would move to New York, where there were better schools and closer proximity to renowned ballet teachers in London, France, and Russia.Additionally, it was near an international airport that accommodated Dad’s travel requirements.
He refused, saying that it was important that we grew up close to our family.So, with a bruised ego, Mom swallowed her pride and apologized to the arts academy’s director, opening the door for Evie’s re-admission.
Mom’s knees, growing increasingly unreliable, forced her to step back from her role as Evie’s personal trainer.She suggested hiring a nanny.Except, she was actually searching for a young tutor who could match Evie’s tireless energy.
Dad initially resisted, but Mom’s persistent persuasion gradually wore down his defenses.
And that’s when Miranda Whitmore entered our lives.She was a stunning ballerina, her captivating presence possessing an almost magnetic allure.With elegance and grace, her deep, expressive eyes seemed to hold a world brimming with passion.Miranda was kindhearted and easily likable.Despite my initial determination to hate her, she won me over.
Evie instantly adored her, and they became immediate friends.Miranda’s arrival not only introduced a new caregiver but also brought us a friend, a confidante, and a refreshing breath of air.
Miranda transformed dance for me.It was no longer about simply imitating steps and holding poses.It became about surrendering to the melody, letting the rhythm guide my body.When we were in the backyard dancing freely, I let my body loose.It wasn’t about being perfect like my mother, but happy just for me.
But, we just couldn’t have nice things for too long.Evie was almost seven when our lives were shattered.She caught Dad and Miranda having sex in the living room when they thought we had left to visit our grandmother.For years, I blamed Evelyn.If she hadn’t forgotten her pointe shoes as Mom requested, we wouldn’t have had to go back to the house.
She came running, scared because Daddy was naked on top of Miranda and hurting her.Mom ran upstairs fuming, and we followed.
“You’re fucking the help?”Mom yelled in the middle of the house.“After everything I’ve given you, you’re fucking the help.She’s nothing.I was a prima ballerina.She’s just a servant, a nobody.”
In my young and confused mind, Evelyn became the catalyst for the unraveling of our family.Dad left us that day.Later he divorced Mom and married Miranda.It took me years to realize the gravity of what my little sister witnessed, and when I did, it was already too late.
Amidst the chaos, Mom remained obsessed with Evie’s ballet aspirations.The presence of Miranda disgusted her, yet she suppressed her anger and requested that Miranda continue training Evie.At least until she found someone to replace her.
It took me years to truly comprehend Mom’s actions, and by the time I did, it was already too late.In retrospect, I wish someone had intervened, saving my sister from the tight grip of Mom’s shattered dreams.
ChapterFifteen
