I get up from the floor as gracefully as I can, handing him my dishes. “Thank you.” I start to hurry after her, then stop short of the stairs. “Wait, you’re not coming with us?” He promised he’d watch her dance tonight. And keeping his word with her is the one thing I need him to do more than anything.
“Your mom said they’d give me a ride. I saw her in passing this morning, leaving the dock.”
Right. Of course. “Perfect.” I was worried he’d be bored out of his mind hanging around the theater parking lot until they finally open the doors to the audience. With everything going on, I totally spaced the fact my parents were coming tonight too. Which of course makes me wonder who else might show up. And by that, of course, I mean I wonder if Sloan’s dad will decide to show.
I guess we’ll leave that one up to surprise. No need to stir that pot by asking if she’s heard from him when the chances are slim the answer’s yes.
“You don’t have to act all tough in front of me, you know,” Sloan says, catching sight of me in her mirror while she does her hair.
“What do you mean?” And yes. Yes, I do.
“You know what I mean. Acting like you’re not upset that Knox is leaving.” She slides a bobby pin into her bun. Then follows it up with two more before she decides its sturdy enough.
“Of course, I’m upset that he’s leaving,” I admit. “But that was the deal when we agreed to hang out this week. It wasn’t forever. Just until his next show.” I notice half her dance shoes have been pulled from her dance bag, probably in search of the black leotard she’s now wearing, and I bend down to put them back. “It’s been a very Cinderella sort of experience. I went to a concert. Met a rock star. But when the magic wears off, everything will go back to how it was.”
“I think you fall back on that story more than you should for a woman your age,” she mutters, digging around her make up bag. “Did you get more fake lashes?”
“I did. They’re packed in my dance mom bag.” Yes. I have one of those.
“Thank you.” She zips up the small pouch and tosses it at me to pack in her bag. “Also, it’s not going to go back to exactly how it was. Even in the fairy tale, the prince comes back around. Things do change. They don’t stay enchanted. But they don’t stay how they were before the magic either.”
“True.” I point at the closet when I notice her searching the hooks by her door. “I put your team jacket in there after I washed it.”
She nods, mouthing the words ‘thank you’ again before she retrieves it and slides it on. “He’s coming back, you know.” She zips her jacket up halfway and takes a few steps toward me.
“I know he said he booked a flight already, but I don’t want us to count on that. When he leaves here, we need to just be okay with letting him go without planning on him coming back.”
“Why?”
“Look, I know that we’ve all enjoyed this little break from reality, and right now, none of us can imagine going back to how things were before.” I sigh. “But the truth is, that Knox’s life is nothing like ours. He travels non-stop. And when he’s not traveling, he’s recording. And when he’s not recording, he’s doing interviews and appearances. And no matter how much he wants to be with us, he can’t be all those places and here with us at the same time.”
She takes another step toward me. Her eyes are locked on mine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her more serious. “The prince found Cinderella again because she left him a glass slipper that fit only her foot. How can you believe in something so insane, but not believe in Knox?” She leans toward me, reaches out her hand to squeeze my arm and grins. “He’s coming back.”
She doesn’t expect an answer. Or maybe she just doesn’t want one. Either way, she takes her dance bag from my hand and skips out of the door and down the stairs.
Shortly after, we’re on the road, headed for the theater. All talk of Knox and fairy tales is forgotten while we argue about what music to play and engage in heated rants about a participating studio’s constant use of the word ‘sassy’ and how really, they mean ‘sexy’, and how offensive that is. Not to mention inappropriate, given some of their performing dancers are as young as nine years old.
Once we arrive, we totally switch gears, both of us going into performance mode in our own way.
Between setting up, and running last minute rehearsals, time flies. Before we know it, the show is starting.
“They got really good seats,” Sloan whispers to me in the wings. “I peeked through at the end of the curtain and saw them. Grandma, Grandpa and Knox. They’re in the second row, almost in the center.” She’s practically glowing she’s so thrilled. Then her smile falters slightly. “I got a text from Daddy. He’s here too. But I can’t see where he’s sitting.”
“Oh.” I force a semi-delighted expression. “Good. I’m glad he made it.”
“Uh-huh.” She rolls her eyes. “The one time I didn’t actually want him to come, and he shows up. Without being asked.”
“He’s making an effort.” That’s probably not entirely true. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s only here because he was worried Knox would be. After the way those two met, I’m sure it’s been making Ebeneezer crazy knowing another man might be taking up space in our lives where he once did. Especially one who stood up to him and took the control right out of his hands.
He’ll punish me for that at some point down the road. I know he will. But I’m not worried like I used to be. He has far less weapons in his arsenal to point at me these days.
Sloan shakes off all thoughts of her father and rejoins her friends, already lining up to go on stage.
Minutes later, the curtains are drawn, the stage lights are on, music is playing, and the dancers are bringing art to life.
Watching from the side, hidden by the curtain, I’m able to watch her entire solo.
She’s amazing.
