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“Later…okay. Gives me time to think of the proper tip.”
“I doubt proper will have anything to do with it,” I said as I moved in, kissing him tenderly. “Let me dance for you, Sir.”
“Yes, Kanan. Dance for me.”
Sliding slowly from his lap, I thought about what music to use and decided to put on an old Indian dancing song, Ram Jaane. The movie where the song is featured was one of the few where my parents weren’t the stars, but it was a favorite of mine anyway. The colors, the story, and the dancing were incredible.
I heard the singing and then closed my eyes to see the scenes of the movie where the music played and the dancers danced.
I saw bright oranges, the sun-kissed yellows, vibrant blues and greens. The twirling of the skirts the women wore, some of them simple layers of flowing fabric, others more elaborate where the women were covered in gold and jewels.
Starting to move, I felt the music in my muscles, like muscle memory, and from the time I was a tiny kid, I used to dance with my parents around whatever room we were in at the time. Laughter, bright smiles, my mother’s robe twirling like her gowns did on screen. It was magical.
To bring that feeling to another relationship, to dance for my Rick and have him be a part of my new memories, it was all I wanted. I opened my eyes enough to see him watching, his smile gone as his eyes widened. He leaned over his lap, resting gently on his elbows like he thought that swift movements might disturb me.
I twirled, moving my hips like they were barely held to my legs and torso, my feet padding along on the rub, the rhythm taking me where it wanted me.
I didn’t dance the choreographed dance I’d planned. Not with Rick. With him, it had all been organic, natural to what we felt, so he was owed a dance that held the same spontaneity.
My father’s dance movements, his arms waving over his head even as his legs spun, my mother’s elegant dips to each side, they all came to me, like they were there with me, leading me in the number.
As I twirled in front of Rick and saw his eyes on me in awe, I made my legs move quicker. Bending, raising my arms over my head, moving each finger, rolling my wrists as I leaned over to the side in a deep dip.
Every move I made was inspired by my heritage and the music, which all seemed one in the same. I was born in the spotlight, my mother twirling around with me in her arms as a baby for the cameras. Their fans loved seeing us as a family, knowing their favorite movie stars weren’t only in desperate love on the big screen, but in real life too.
In that moment, dancing just for Rick, I felt like I was pulling him into a world he couldn’t have found otherwise. That world, back in the late 1980s and early 1990s when my life was all motel rooms and flashing lights.
The song ended and I fell gently to my knees, smiling at Rick as he simply stared for a few seconds before putting his hands together for a slow, loud applause. “My God, Kanan. That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said to me in a raspy whisper. After clearing his throat, he held out his hands to me and I crawled to him, moving between his legs to be held.
“I’m glad you liked it. That wasn’t the dance I’ll be doing at the club.”
“No? Is it sexier than that? I may have to rethink my position about letting you perform.”
“Letting me? Rick, you wanted me to.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Almost forgot,” he admitted, but then asked again, “Is it? Sexier?”
“I guess you’ll see.”
I was kissed, my face held in both his hands before he whispered to me, “I’m going to be the proudest man on the planet.”
The way he looked into my eyes as if he didn’t have a thing to hide or a secret he hadn’t revealed. Maybe that was what made me love him from nearly the first time I saw him. “Want to watch a movie?”
“One with your parents? Yes! I’d love to see them.”
After a peck on his mouth, I got up and rushed to the bedroom upstairs to get the flash drive that I kept in a box on the top shelf above my clothes.
I ran back down the stairs, but halfway down, I heard Colby stirring. After sliding the drive into the pocket of my house pants, I hurried to Colby’s room.
He was sitting in his toddler bed which was white with blue plaid blankets and sheets. Rubbing his eyes, Colby whined, “Wanna get up now.”
I went to the bed and grabbed him into my arms, kissing his round cheek. “You’re up.”
His sleepy smile was the most precious of all his perfect smiles. “I’m up!”
“Want some juice?”
He nodded briskly and then threw his arms around my neck. “Carry me, Kan!”
