#

The following weeks turned into a blur for Jane. She was running into work, doing housekeeping clean-up as usual, balancing the sheets at the front desk, and greeting the studio guests. She was no more done with that, than Maude would show up for lesson. Jane became the dance partner for the men while Maude watched and gave pointers.

Jane started out liking the dancing, now she was starting to feel like something out of The Red Shoes. She was dancing her feet off and going home exhausted. And then, Stanley. Jesus! The man seemed to show up either everyday or every other day. It seemed she was constantly stuck with him. He was always smiling that sickly-sweet smile at her. Then, he started to bring her little gifts. He wouldn’t just leave a card or note. He’d wait until she was away from the desk and slip in a gift when no one else could see. If she got one more box of chocolates she would scream. She began opening them up and letting ‘everyone share’. Lately, she was walking them into the staff room and dumping them in the trash.

God, she couldn’t stand that guy! And heaven forbid she said anything to anyone. He was a great paying customer and they loved that. To top it off, Larry was there less and less. They had not had a private lesson in over a month, and he kept scuttling out of the studio promptly at 6 pm.

“Got to get home to those kids, you know,” he’d say. Then, giving her a warm smile or a wink, boom, he was out the door and into the night. Just when it couldn’t get worse, Lady G seemed to be hovering around her like some suffocating moth.

Reminds me of a pesky nat. Wish I could just swat her! Jane dunked her teabag into a cup of hot water with furious little jabs. Whether she wanted to admit it to herself, she was starting to hate her life and didn’t know what to do. She felt trapped.

It was that spring that the studio held its Spring Showcase of Talent. Many of the regulars from the studio were going to be in the show plus all the instructors. Of course, Larry and Lady G, the professional dancers, would be performing. Jane considered throwing her hat in, but honestly, was too tired to practice for some dumb show.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day, Jane found herself in the organic wine aisle looking at the bottles.

Hum, made naturally with only organic grapes in the heartland of California’s own wine country. “Well,” she told the air, “how bad can it be? It’s all organic.” She bought a bottle and took it home. The next day she had a headache and was surprised to find when she was in the kitchen looking for Tylenol, found an empty bottle in the trash.

“Did I do that?” she said softly. She located another bottle of pills in the cupboard and forced it open. She grabbed two pills and downed them with water. She was walking out of the kitchen when she looked at the wine bottle again. She stopped and shoved it further down in the trash.

Dancers were running in and out and in and out of the studio as the Showcase approached. Jane was delirious with constant lessons. Maude was shouting and yelling as more dancers practiced their routines for the show.

Jane was stopping at the grocery store on a nightly basis now to get her organic wine. She kept promising herself she would make the bottle last two nights, but it never did. She began to buy some small pints of vodka to make the evening last longer. Her unhappiness at work kept increasing.

It seemed like she rarely saw Larry these days, but Stanley was appearing on a regular basis. She began to have bad dreams. It seemed like she was being forced into some weird marriage ceremony with Stanley. She jerked awake from these dreams sweating.

                                                #

It was a Friday night and the Showcase was happening at 7 PM. All the staffers were frantic getting the studio cleaned up and ready for the performances. Lady G was supervising the costumes on the costume racks which were pushed into both staff rooms. Jane got out the vacuum and vacuumed the floor three times. People kept dropped bits of food on the carpet. She was nearly exhausted but keyed up at the same time.

They all had to park their cars further away than usual to give the guests more places to park. This was really annoying for Jane. It meant she had to go farther to get to the trunk of her car. She was keeping a bottle of hot vodka there and would sneak out to take sips at break. She choose vodka because everyone said you couldn’t smell it.

By the time she had made three trips to her car, the show was about to start, and she was light-headed. She parked herself at the desk and pulled her swivel chair around to watch. One tedious performance followed another for an hour and a half. Jane felt like throwing up. She couldn’t tell if it was the vodka or watching the dancers.

The show was winding down to the last few numbers. Larry and Lady G had something planned. They danced the tango to a hot salsa beat then stopped and took a bow. An older woman came on the floor leading three young tow-headed children.

Larry grabbed the microphone. “Thanks so much for coming tonight, folks. Lady G and I both want to thank you so much and introduce our three kids!” There was a huge round of applause and then the kids, mom and dad, all did a short rendition of Chattanooga Choo choo with bells and whistles, Larry rotating his arms like the wheels of a locomotive. The crowd went wild with shouts and applause.

Jane was struck dumb. She knew Larry had some kids, but three? And all blond and adorably cute? And they all sang together? She couldn’t stand it. Jane groped in the dark for her little evening bag and keys. She was crying hysterically. She stumbled out of the studio.

Why, why? Why did that bitch get the guy, the house, the business, the kids and all the applause? She should have that. She worked hard, she deserved center stage. She was younger and better looking. It just wasn’t fair. Jane stumbled toward her car. All she could think about was getting her hands on that bottle of vodka. She’d probably stop at the store on the way home and get a much, much bigger bottle this time.

She was still clutching something in her hand. It was the letter opener from the desk. She had forgotten she was even carrying it. Oh shit. She wasn’t going back for this dumb thing now. Screw it.

“Jane, Jane. What’s wrong?”

Out of the darkness, Jane heard the dreaded voice of Stanley. She turned. The asshole had followed her out to her car.

“You look upset. What’s wrong? Let me help you.” His face was wrinkled up with concern and sympathy.

Sympathy, Jesus, of all the things in the world I don’t need right now, sympathy was the worst!

Jane turned back and kept walking. She felt his hand on her shoulder, she turned around. The three fingered hand. “Get off me you horrible old freak!” she screamed. She staggered backward.

He lunged forward to catch her. That’s when she lashed out with the letter opener. It sank into Stanley’s juggler vein. Blood started to pump out of the vein and Stanley sank to the asphalt with one hand on the letter opener and a surprised look on his face.

Jane stood and stared in horror as Stanley was quickly covered in his own blood. She wanted to scream but no sound came out. In moments, it was over, and he was completely still, laying on the asphalt. She backed away from the body. First slowly, then quickly, then she was running. Running and stumbling as fast as she could, away.

Away, got to get away, was all she could think of. She jabbed the car key into the lock, wrenched the door open and jammed the key into the lock. She didn’t bother with the bottle in the trunk or even putting on her seat belt. She screamed out of the parking lot without another look back.

VII next

#

Jane was running to work these days in eager anticipation. The days could be drag some as couple after dull, middle-aged couple came in for privates with their favorite instructor. Lessons for an upcoming wedding, anniversary, reunion. Whatever – you name it. Jane had to laugh and giggle to herself.

“As if anything was going to put some zing! in their sex life,” she whispered in a low voice indicating the plump couple on the dance floor. They were going slowly over the steps with Madge, the older instructor.

Larry, sitting next to her at the front desk, snickered.

“More like two dancing hippos,” she whispered back at him. “Maybe we should get them matching tutus.”

This time Larry laughed so hard he had to put his head down. Red in the face, he recovered himself.

He pointed a finger at her, still smiling. “Don’t you ever…”

“I won’t! Trust me! What can I do that South Beach Diet couldn’t?” Innocently, she peeked over the raised countertop at the couple.

Larry took a deep breath and got up. “See you at 7 PM?”

“Yep, I’ll be there. I think I’m getting this waltz thing.”

He patted her on the shoulder and went to do some glad-handing with another couple who just came in.

Stanley came in the front door and paused at the desk. He leaned a hand on the counter.

“Stanley, you’re here!” Jane chirped. “Afraid Maude won’t be done with that couple for another half hour.”

“Thanks, okay. I’m good,” he replied. “I’ll just wait.”

Jane nodded and smiled at him. She noticed the hand for the first time.

Does he only have three fingers? Uck! She thought but continued to smile at the man while he went to plant himself on a sofa. Euw, she thought, creepy! Glad I don’t have to dance with him much. The very thought of it sent a wave of revulsion through her body. She had to shake it off and refocus on what she was doing.

Later, she and Larry danced and laughed. Once again Jane felt restored, like she was in heaven and her life was perfect.

When they were finished, Jane sat taking off her dance shoes and putting on regular street shoes.

“Oh, Jane, you two dance so divinely.” It was one of the older women, a regular at the studio. “You look just like Lady G did when they danced years ago.” The woman smiled broadly at Jane. “Before she had all those kids of course.” The woman simpered.

Jane smoothed down her wavy hair and stuck her chin up. I bet we do look perfect together, she thought. She got up with her shoes and bag.

“Thank you so much,” she replied. “I’ve been working really hard.” Jane didn’t have any children. Generally, she also didn’t mention her three abortions.

She stuck the bag behind the counter and hunted around for her purse and keys. Time to go. Maude and the young guys would lock the place up. Larry had already left. Jane waved a big goodbye to everyone and stepped out into the cool night air.

“We look perfect together, ma’am, because we are perfect together,” Jane breathed out into the night air. “In fact, we belong together, and I am just starting to realize that.” In the pink cotton candy cloud that Jane called her brain, she floated out to her used car and started it up for home.

                                                            #

The next day, Jane was back at her duty station, not only on time but a little early. She was very surprised to see Lady G at the studio. Jane glanced at the clock. Lady was usually never in this early. Didn’t she have work to do at some elementary school?

Jane plastered a smile on her face.

“Morning, Lady G. Good to see you!”

“Oh, Jane.” Lady looked up from her appointment book. “Yes, yes.” She tapped a pencil against her teeth. “Right. Weren’t you telling me, Jane, that you wanted to learn to be a dance instructor?”

Jane gaped a moment. Recovering, “Well, yes…In time, but…”

“Well, you won’t believe this. We’re getting so busy; Maudie needs some help in the evenings. You could assist her. Learn the ropes kind of thing. What do you say to that?”

Jane was momentarily flattered. Things were happening so quickly!

“Well, yes, Lady, if you think so. If you think I’m ready.”

“Ready,” Lady laughed and smiled a very wide smile. “You are a natural.” Her eyes glinted. She smiled even more broadly. “So, that’s a yes?” her sharply penciled eyebrows went up.

“Ah, yes.” Jane was stumbling a little for words. “I’d be happy. The desk…”

“Pish-posh, the desk. Arron can always handle the desk. We need people on the floor.”

“Okay, it’s a yes then.” Jane said definititely.

“Good, good.” Lady G tapped her teeth with her pencil again and looked at her book. “I think…yes, tonight. I think you’ll start with Stanley. He’s pretty new and can really use some help.”

Jane’s stomach clutched. “Stanley?”

“Yes, Stanley, you know who he is, right?”

“Yeah, sure, I….”

“Good, good. I’ll tell Maude.” She turned to go and turned back. “Oh, and, another little thing. Since you will be helping Maude, Larry won’t have quite so much time for private lessons. You understand. Need him at home more and all that stuff.” Lady G smiled again and winked at Jane. Then she turned and went to help some dancers.

Jane gripped her hands together and sat down slowly on her swivel chair.

She knows, kept running through her brain. She knows!!!!

Jane stared into space for a good longwhile.

                                                #

Conclusion – VI

Stanley was a welder. He had been a welder most of his life. He started back when he was eighteen learning the trade at his uncle’s shop. Stanley was a big kid, even then, and took to the trade and learned it rapidly. Stan wasn’t much for school and books. He liked working with his hands.

That and the fact he had crooked teeth, warts and three fingers on one hand, he wasn’t a big hit with the ladies. He frequently kept his ‘bad’ hand in his pocket to avoid stares and jeers from the other guys. The deformity was genetic, so the doctors told his parents, and there was absolutely nothing they could do to fix it. Learning to live with it and being slightly different from other people had been Stanley’s cross to bear.

He liked the shop. He got to know all the guys and did much of the work alone by himself, so he wasn’t in the public eye much. That was fine with him. The hand was no problem in his work, and he could handle materials just like the next man. Eventually, he started to make good money doing welding. He started to buy the things his parents couldn’t afford when he was growing up. New clothes, a nice car. Eventually, he was even able to afford a little house.

With money in the bank, a new set of wheels and a house to call his own, Stanley became more of a catch. Eventually he attracted a woman at church who could look past the hand and the teeth. A year later they got married. Stanley remained happily married for over twenty years.

It came as a shock and a blow when Genene, his wife, developed ovarian cancer. Within two years she was gone and once again, Stanley was on his own. At fifty, the teeth were still crooked, the bad hand was still the same, but he had now developed a middle-age paunch from all of Genene’s good cooking.

Stan tried a number of activities that involved women. Nothing much worked. He was a complete wash-out at bars. Despite how much money he threw around, he couldn’t compete with the younger, good looking guys. He still went to church, but the women there seemed to get older and dowdier by the year. He couldn’t bowl anymore because of a bad shoulder. So, he was delighted when he discovered the new dance studio. The staff were friendly and eager to help. They were happy to take his money for dance lessons and in return treat him with respect. The staffers didn’t avoid him and he even made some new friends. He was starting to get comfortable. That is until they hired the new girl, Jane.

Stanley goggled at Jane. She was so beautiful. Small and petite. Big green eyes in a pixie face. Small but curvaceous body. It was love at first sight. And, on top of that, she was so friendly! She would call him by name when he came in the door and laugh and giggle when he spoke to her.

Was she flirting with him? His mind reeled at the thought. She would even step in when some of the instructors were busy and act as his dancing partner. She was small and light on her feet. Nothing like Genene who, although Stan loved his wife, he had to admit was as clumsy as all get out. His wife could bang into a barn door going through if she weren’t careful.

No, Stan had to admit, even Genene had never made him feel like this before. Was he in love? He didn’t know what to call it. But, when they were dancing, everyone else and everything else just faded away. It was just him and Jane floating along. He wanted it to last forever.

Continued Part V

                                                            #

                                                #

That had been six months ago. Jane had made good on her promise to the doctor and had stuck to the diet plan and taken all the pills. The major change was the job. She realized there was no way she was going to be able to stay away from the booze and still work at Bistro 30. Too many temptations and too many crazy men always trying to buy her drinks, among other things.

It was okay, she had been doing the bar thing for years. Despite earning excellent money with tips, she lived in a junky apartment with a weird roommate and drove an old car. She had basically nothing to show for all she had earned. It was time for a change. She was ready.

She had applied for the job as a receptionist at the dance studio. She didn’t have strong office skills, but the wife of the owner assured her that ‘personality’ was what they wanted on the job.

“You will meet and greet the customers when they come in the door. Yes?” Lady G said. “It is important that they feel welcome and that we want them to be here. They are not just our customers; they are our guests. Very welcome guests, yes?”

Lady G was foreign and tended to repeat herself a lot. It was okay. Jane liked her. Lady G was older than Jane by about ten years. Funny, they even looked a little alike. Small and slim. Blue eyes, to Jane’s green and dark hair to Jane’s red. Yes, Jane liked her and liked the studio. It was in a good section of town and everything about it smelled fresh and new. Plus, it emanated a certain quality.

What was it? She thought to herself. Oh, yes. Money. Jane liked that. She like it a lot.

She accepted the job and went to work. Mr. G was in and out of the studio and she just caught glimpses of him. Very tall, slim, and older, but, quite good looking when you got him in focus.

Larry Gee started staying later in the evenings to help her out with the desk. Jane found him to be sweet and kind.

 Not anything like the guys in the bar. They were loud, boorish, arrogant, and dominating. All those men were like cookie cutter dolls, Jane thought to herself. They only want to own me, like a thing, like a life-size doll. Not a person. Not like Mr. G. There’s a guy who knows how to treat a lady like a lady.

So, Mr. G became Larry and Jane and he became working buddies. Larry ran the studio with his wife and gave private lessons to individuals and couples. After she had been at the studio a couple of months, Jane was able to save up some money for private lessons.

There were other instructors at the studio of course. The older guy with dyed hair, Fred. Fred was married and had been teaching dance lessons forever. The Asian guy who was very slick and only did evenings. There was the older woman, Maude, who was very nice and kind to Jane. There were couple of twenty-somethings there too. A college girl and then Studly guy. Studly naturally would have been quite a catch.

But man, were the women all over him. He’s clearly not gay, and they can’t get enough of that! Too much competition for sure. Jane ruminated. Ah, none of them compared to Mr. G. He was the man, Jane sighed dreamily.

It was not long before Jane and Mr. G were doing privates in the evenings before he went home. Jane was in heaven. She could not remember any man ever making her feel quite this way. Ever. Except for that time at Bistro 30 with the owner…

Continued Part IV

Jane was very happy with her new job as a receptionist at the dance school. It was a definite step up from the waitressing she had been doing for so long at the bar and grill. Not that Bistro 30 was a bad place really. The clientele was steady, and the tips were good. It was just…well, the drinking. As Jane sat at the desk sorting receipts she thought back.

                                                            #

Dr. P looked at her intently as she sat on the padded exam table. She shifted uncomfortably on the white paper cover. He stood leaning against the counter, her file in his hands, studying it again. There was a frown on his dark, tanned face. He looked up at her and the black eyes were kind.

Jane really hated that. The kindness. Fuck him! Rich Indian shit with your fancy schools. She called him Dr. P because that is what everyone called him. None of the Americans could start to pronounce the twelve-letter last name. It would have been better if he had been mean to her, harsh. She was used to that. Used to men talking down to her like she was a three-year-old. A stupid three-year-old. Just because she was slight of build and on the short side. With her huge green eyes, men couldn’t help talking to her like she was, what? A life-sized doll?

Jane braced herself. She didn’t like the look on Dr. P’s face. He had ordered an intense series of gastro tests on her. All of which she was sure were unnecessary. It was just a little upset stomach, that’s all. She had them all the time. Some Pepto-bismo and aspirin….

Dr. P coughed and cleared his throat. “So, Jane. We got the test results back. I told you it would take some days, right?”

She nodded. I’m not stupid. Get on with it already.

“It looks like what I thought. Gastritis.”

“Gas what?”

“Gastritis. It’s an inflammation of the stomach lining.”

“Well, so? Can’t you give me something for it and I’ll be on my way.” Jane started to inspect the posters on the wall.

“Ah, well. It’s not quite that simple. I think we discussed that this is kind of unusual in a person your age.” He glanced at the file again. “Twenty-nine, I believe.”

She nodded; disinterested.

“Right,” he closed the file. “Also, we touched on the subject of alcohol and how that might be affecting the condition.”

She continued to stare off into middle distance.

The doctor sat down on the exam room chair. “I will have the nurse give you some pamphlets on proper care for you to read at home.” He paused and waited.

“Okay,” she finally said and looked at him. It was obvious he had something else to say.

“Jane, it is important you understand that what you have is not fatal, but it is chronic, and it will not go away on its own. With proper diet and staying completely away from alcohol…” his eyes flicked to her face, “you should see rapid improvement in your symptoms and should be well on your way to being your old self.”

“Okay,” came the monosyllabic response.

Dr. P glanced into the file again. “Ah, did we discuss the amount you have been drinking per day?”

“Yeah, we did. I don’t know for sure. Maybe a couple of beers a day at the bar.”

“Ah, couple of beers,” he studied the file again.

“Look, Dr. P.” Jane was starting to get defensive. “I’ll follow your dumb plan. I can take the stuff or leave it alone. I’m not an alcoholic, for God’s sake!” She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned.

“Oh, no. No one is suggesting anything.” He smiled at her warmly. “We just want you to get better. Right?”

Jane uncrossed her arms and let them drop into her lap. “Yeah, okay. Right. You’re just trying to help.” She folded her hands together and head down, examined them.

“Exactly,” Dr. P reached out and gave her arm a little pat. “We don’t want this thing progressing into…. something…more serious.”

She jerked her head up to look at him.

He smiled again, affably. “Nurse will be in to give you those pamphlets in a minute. I’m leaving a script for those antibiotics we talked about. See you in about two months?”

She nodded her head, face down toward her lap again.

“Fine. See you then.” Dr. P opened the door and closing it behind him, dropped the chart in the metal bin next to the door. He hit the button for the nurse and walked away shaking his head.

                                                #

Continued Part III

UNREQUITED

She danced in his strong arms. They whirled around the parquet floor. Fairy lights twinkled above, and she could see flashes of herself in the floor to ceiling plate-glass mirrors.

The Strauss waltz played, and Jane threw her head back the way they had taught her. Her left hand on his shoulder, the right arm up and out to the side, almost rigid. His strong handsome features were above her. His salt and pepper hair glinted in the lights. She didn’t really need to look; she had his face memorized. Nearly seared into her brain, in truth. They spun around and around.

Her new dance shoes were holding up well. Her feet didn’t even hurt. The new dress was  gently used from the top-end resale shop in the area. When, one of the girls told her about it. Jane jumped in her old Chevy and zipped down there as soon as possible. She was happy with the purchase. It was clean, fit and the little rhinestones glinted nicely in the semi-dim lights.

Larry, her dance partner, was dressed in his usual all black attire. That is all he ever wore. It suited him Jane decided. It showed off the silver in his hair and the icy blue of his eyes. She couldn’t look into those eyes without haven’t the physical sensation of falling backwards. Wow! He was something. Where had he been her whole life? Tall, strong, handsome, caring. Whew!

There were other people on the dance floor also dancing and others sitting on the cushy benches to the side of the floor. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything else in the world. While they were dancing everyone else ceased to exist.

Jane let out a happy sigh. His wife would never know.

Continued in Part II

Read more of Courtney’s writing in:
https://sites.google.com/view/webbywritercom/page-5?authuser=0

and Amazon/Kindle.

Looking down,
I noticed the shoes.
Very sparkly with lots
of rhinestones,
four inch leather heels.
“Little early in the day isn’t
it?” I think.
My eyes travel up, nice legs,
good outfit.
Pretty face? Not exactly, just nice.
About thirty-five years old;
she’s going up in the hotel elevator
with a man twice her age.
She’s not his wife,
she has settled in life.
She’s the number two girl.
He pays the bills, she gets nice things.
He gets to feel younger for a while,
’til he goes home to his wife.
She’ll go back to her apartment,
and wait, until the next time.

Read more of Courtney’s writing in:
https://sites.google.com/view/webbywritercom/page-5?authuser=0

and Amazon/Kindle.

TWINKLE, TWINKLE

I shuffle the cards,

and gaze at the stars.

Jupiter is next to the

moon, they say,

Saturn and Antares are

on the way.

But, twinkle, twinkle you are my star,

how  I wonder where you are.

The Hanged Man needs some

attention now,

but I  consider the Fool

and stare at that card.

As the moon goes down

and the sun comes up,

 know this,

I am the moon to your sun.

 Venus on the horizon is

fated to be impatient but

The Knight of Pentacles has not come. 

I reshuffle the cards and lay them out

straight and remember that

Jupiter follows the moon tonight.

         

She stared and stared at my shoes.

I looked down at my feet – leather
sandals with blue, rhinestone straps.

My fresh pedicure winked back at me with
the gold sparkle polish.

I looked back at her. Now her head was hanging
way down like she was thinking.

“If I could just have the shoes, it would all be okay.”

I looked away, she made me uncomfortable with her
shabby clothes and dirty hands, holding the handle of the old
metal shopping cart.

It was filled to the brim with stuff… flotsam and jetsam, boxes and bags
in all mis-matched colors and styles. They matched her clothes.

Her head hung down so you couldn’t see her eyes.

I glanced at my Seiko watch to check the time, didn’t want to be
late for that hair appointment.

She had on an old visor, stuck in her hair that mostly hid her face.
I readjusted the ear buds on my Apple I-phone four.

I didn’t want to look at her and share her shame, irresistibly my
eyes were pulled back to her riding on this crowded subway.

Why so many bags and boxes? Ah, this is her house that she carries with her.
Of course.

She blends in here, with all the other people, all going somewhere.
She looks like anybody else.

It’s when she leaves here and goes up to the street;
that’s when she has to become someone who has
somewhere to go, someone to meet.

But there is no one and nowhere. Just the street.

I check my lipstick in the mirror in my handbag,
the train is slowing down.

Time to get back to my life.