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The sight of brown, red, and orange leaves on trees as I drive past, brings a smile to my lips. Fall was Gwen’s favorite season. She used to enjoy painting trees in their changing colors, casting an orange glow on the ground.
“Don’t you just love the beauty all around you?” she would say, her eyes awash with excitement. It was little wonder that winter was her least favorite season, even though she enjoyed Christmas.
In the rearview mirror, I look at my daughter, who is humming to Taylor Swift’sEnchantedon the radio as she sways her head. Looking adorable as usual in her pink ballet attire and black sweater, I smile brightly. With each passing day, she looks more and more like her mom. Her ash blond hair is becoming lighter and curlier at the tips, her turquoise blue eyes are more expressive, and her round face creases just like Gwen’s when she’s lost in thought.
She catches me watching her and grins goofily before poking her tongue out at me. I reciprocate, and she laughs. The car behind me honks its horn, and I sigh as I press the gas and continue our short drive to Alvin Ailey. Like most girls, she enjoys dancing. Every Sunday since she turned three, I’ve taken her to her ballet lesson.
At first, I participated in the class, and once she graduated to taking it on her own, I waited for her outside the studio. The only times I’ve missed doing that are when I am away on business and when we lost Gwen. If she hadn’t made me promise to continue with the Sunday tradition, I would have given it up. It hurt too much. Gwen and I used to wait together for her to finish her lesson. Sitting alone had been unbearable at first, but I eventually got used to it, just like I got used to going to the museum, ballet shows, and the Philharmonics.
“We should get pizza on our way home, Dad.”
“You mean you aren’t satisfied with all the pizza you ate at your grandparents’ last weekend?”
She makes a face, and I laugh. “You know San Matteo’s pizza is the best.”
I rub my clean-shaven jaw. “Are you trying to tell me they don’t have good pizza in the Hamptons?”
She places a hand across her mouth and giggles. “I never said that.”
My eyes sparkle with mischief. “I’ll be sure to pass that piece of information to your grandparents when you go over there the next time.”
“Aww, Dad. I’ll deny it.”
I burst into laughter. Even when I’m having an off day, I can be sure to count on Ashlyn to cheer me up. Having her in my life is all the fulfillment I need. We’ve done just fine together in the past five years. There’s no need to bring someone else in that might upset the balance.
“She’ll grow up, go to college, get married, and leave home for good. And then you’ll be lonely and wish you had remarried or at least let someone into your life. You can’t mourn Gwen forever.” My mom’s words come to haunt me a few seconds later.
The thought of losing my little girl to a man she loves doesn’t please me, but I know it’s inevitable. Though it will be hard accepting it.
“Dad!”
“Yes, sugarplum?” So lost in thoughts about her future, I didn’t hear her talking.
“How about that pizza?”
I glance at her in the rearview mirror again and grin. “Anything for you, sugarplum.”
She gives me a wide smile. My mom would frown in disapproval if she were here. I try my best not to spoil Ashlyn, but she’s all I have left of her mom.
When we arrive at our destination, we are lucky, and I manage to snatch a parking spot right next door to the dance school. Hand in hand, Ashlyn and I enter the building. Her friends are already in the main lobby with their parents, and it becomes a flurry of ballet dresses and giggling girls, which reminds me of the Degas painting of ballet dancers. And that brings back the memory of Giselle. Ever since her icy reaction to me last week, I haven’t set eyes on her at the museum. I’ve found excuses to be there twice just to see if I could catch a glimpse of her, but my efforts were unsuccessful. Given that I’m still unsure what I want, I didn’t try too hard. A relationship? Another splendid night of fucking?
I talk on the phone for about half an hour with my parents and then a business partner while waiting for Ashlyn’s lesson to end. Taking a stroll along the hallway while talking to a friend, I do a double take.
“I’ll call you back, John,” I quickly hang up to gawk at one of the other classes.
At this rate, I might just have a heart attack from the shock of seeing Giselle in the most unexpected places. What is she doing here? How is it that I run into her everywhere? I didn’t know she was into ballet as well. But of course, with such a graceful carriage like hers, it makes sense that she would be into dance.
Hoping she won’t think I’m stalking her, I stand in front of the studio and watch her through the window. The other adult dancers dissolve into thin air as my sight is trained only on her. With the lithe way she moves her body, it’s obvious this is not her first rodeo.
Instantly, my body hardens when she lifts her long leg upward, reminding me of how I placed them against my shoulders as I thrust deep into her. Her expression is one of pure joy as she goes through the movements, bringing back the memory of when my head was buried between her legs. Feeling my dick beginning to rise, I close my eyes and take in a deep breath before letting it out slowly.
What is wrong with me? How is watching a woman dance turning me on, so much so that I wish I could send everyone out of the dance class, grab Giselle, peel the black leotard down her sexy body, pin her against the barre, and claim her until we both can’t stand straight anymore. I shift uneasily, hoping the people also watching the class and moving about the hallway haven’t noticed the growing bulge in my pants.
Leaving or at least looking away seems like a smart solution. But I’m unable to move or shift my gaze from her. She’s graceful in her stride and gait. Looking at Giselle dance makes ballet feel like an erotic ritual.
Remembering my mom’s warning about living a lonely life once Ashlyn goes to college one day and has her own family, I cringe. Moments later, I come to a decision. I want Giselle in my bed again so badly that it hurts. But I realize that’s not all that I want. I enjoyed my day with her, and I want to know more about her.
A wave of determination seeps through me. I am ready for a relationship.
