Firebird (41 page)

“You and Juliet need each other.  The ultimate unholy alliance.”  Rhodes tipped his head, and moved down the hallway.  “My car is waiting to take me to the airport.  I have to get back to Washington tonight.  I’ll be in touch.”

“Anthony!  Wait.”

There was an unsettling shine in his eyes when he turned back to her.

“Have your choices made
you
happy?” she asked him.

He shook his head mutely.

* * * *

The rehearsal room door crashed open.  Glistening young girls in leotards tumbled past, full of laughter, delighting Ruby, their bulging costume bags bumping against the walls and each other.  Giggling pandemonium, and then in moments the hall was clear.  Where was Juliet?  Alexandra gave Ruby a small plastic cup filled with Cheerios and paced restlessly.

Then the music began.  Modern, edgy.

Alexandra pushed the door open with her good shoulder and eased the stroller into the room. 

The ballet studio was huge and rectangular, brightly lit, with mirrored walls, a well-scuffed wooden floor, and a ballet barre running like a spine down the length of the room.  On the downtown side, an entire wall of windows looked over the theatres of Lincoln Center, their lights just winking on.   Two scuffed black toe shoes, ribbons tangled, lay forgotten on the floor.

In the center of the room, her narrow body reflected over and over in the tall mirrors, Eve’s daughter danced, bare-footed and alone.

Alexandra caught her breath.

Juliet was dressed all in black, her long coltish legs defying gravity, her delicate gamine face reflecting desolation, and defiance.  In her tattered rehearsal clothes and bright orange hair, she danced with a wanton, edgy brilliance.

There was nothing but the music and the girl.  Spinning, crouching, then thrusting up, Juliet twisted and darted like a wild bird, then melted, fluid as water, into the floor.  

It was a complex blend of loneliness, grief and rage.  The girl danced as if it were the only way she could communicate all the pain held inside.  In that moment, Alexandra knew she was watching something extraordinary.

The words murmured by the Mother Superior of St. Theresa’s flooded back. 
When she dances, it’s as if she has the devil inside her
.

The music changed, grew in intensity.  Now Juliet whirled in a frenzy of pirouettes to the far corner of the room, then rose on her toes
and waited, poised, ready, her eyes fixed on a ghostly partner some thirty feet away.

She began to run, faster and faster, bare feet rapping like drums on the hard wooden floors, until she launched herself high into the air.  Then she was flying, floating, legs extended like a sleek race horse, soaring higher against the mirrors like a wild bird in flight.

This furious, wounded child, thought Alexandra.  Attacking the monsters only she can see.

Juliet’s cry split the air as she fell to earth in a tangle of arms and legs.

“Jules!”  Alexandra ran toward her niece.  “Are you hurt?”

“Don’t touch me!”  The girl sat up, dazed but fierce.  And then, “What the hell are you doing here?”

My mother never saw me dance, Aunt Zan
.

Her niece rushed on.  “If this is another meeting to discuss ‘What to do about Juliet’, I’ll pass!”

Alexandra swallowed her laughter.  “Ruby and I came to watch you dance.”

A stunned silence.  And then, “Seriously?  To watch me fall, you mean!”  The girl rose gingerly to her feet, wincing with pain.  “Freakin’ leap.  I’ll never get it.”

“It will come, Jules.  You almost had it.”

Tears glittered in the remarkable green eyes.  “No.  I can’t do it.  I’ve tried and tried.  I fall every time.  I’m too scared.”

“Of getting hurt?”

“You don’t understand.  It’s so much more than that.  I
have
to dance!  Dance is the only thing in my life that can’t be taken away from me.  When something bad happens, it’s the one place I can go to escape.  It’s the only way I can...”   She held out her hands helplessly.

Alexandra felt an unfamiliar tug in her chest.  “Say all those things locked inside you?  Art is that place for me.  It lets me find myself, and lose myself, at the same time.”

“For a choreographer,” said Juliet softly, “the
dancers
are the paint.” 

“So we have music and art in common – the oldest and richest of human inventions.”

Juliet looked away. “Leonard Bernstein said, ‘When the passion’s too much to talk, sing. When the passion’s too much to sing, dance.’”

Juliet was very still, reflected in the tall mirrors with one toe pointed like a Degas sculpture, a lonely woman-child with her streaked orange hair like a halo in the twilight slanting through the tall windows. 

I want to paint you
, thought Alexandra suddenly
. 
She said,
“
I think
Degas would have painted you just like this, a dancer reflected in the mirror, using that gorgeous green he loved…”

“I’m nobody’s muse!”

“But someday you will be.”  Alexandra raised her good arm, wanting to reach out and wrap her sister’s daughter against her.  “You remind me of an Impressionist oil painting I love. 
Reflection
, by William Merritt Chase.  A beautiful woman is gazing at herself in a tall mirror.  What is she thinking?  I can see you in that painting, Jules, looking at your reflection in these mirrors.   Just try it.  What do you see?”

A heartbeat.  Then, “No one.  There’s no one there.”  Juliet pulled away and, blindsided, Alexandra fought off the unexpected wave of hurt.  Her arm dropped to the stroller.  “Well, I see a strong, talented, beautiful young dancer.  Art gives us strength, Jules, whether it’s storytelling or painting or music or dance.  No matter how painful life is, we learn to get up again.” 

Juliet stared at her.  “But what do we do when we get back up?” 

Alexandra smiled gently.  “Try again.”

Juliet shook her head, dropped to her knees and pressed her lips to Ruby’s shining hair.  “Hey, cuz,” she whispered, waggling her fingers at the smiling little girl.  “You are such a cutie, girlfriend.”  She looked up at Alexandra.  “How do I sign that?”

The first signing lesson had both children laughing.  Then Juliet stood up and took a shaky breath.  “About last night,” she began, not looking up at Alexandra.  “That stallion…”

Alexandra waited.

“It’s just – nobody’s stood up for me in a long time.”

Something shifted, hard, inside Alexandra’s chest.  She couldn’t breathe.  Somehow she was able to say, “You’re welcome.  I’m just glad you’re okay.  And that I’ve been able to see you dance.  My God, Jules, you have a gift!  Those lines – you make the most beautiful pictures.  Like a moving painting.  I had no idea.”

Juliet touched a gentle finger to the tip of Ruby’s nose and rose gracefully.  “Don’t act so surprised, Auntie.”

Ouch.  Not sure how to respond, Alexandra bent to give her child a sippy cup of juice.  Then she touched Juliet’s arm.

“You remind me of your grandmother Marik, you know.  She was a woman well before her time.  Your granddad called her a ‘hoofer.’  She would dance barefoot on the beach, with long bright scarves billowing in the breeze, like Isadora Duncan.”

Juliet’s face lit with interest.  “I’ve seen photos of Isadora Duncan.  Mother never told me much about Grandmother.  I never got to meet her.”

Alexandra gestured toward the stereo.  “Your grandmother liked music like this, too.  It’s certainly not Swan Lake.”

Juliet grinned in spite of herself.  “It’s Alicia Keyes.  It’s called
Like You’ll Never See Me Again
.”

Oh, God.  “I thought ballet was your thing.  I didn’t know you liked Modern Dance.”

“Contemporary is rooted in Classical.  It tells a story, too.”  Juliet looked down at her toes.  “But with bare feet.”

Alexandra smiled.  “And what’s this story?”

Juliet stared at her, surprised.   “You really want to know?”

“I really do.”

“It’s about having a chance to turn back time.  To see the person you love one last time.  To spend one more moment with them, touch them one more time, say what you were never able to say.”

They were both silent, staring at each other in the mirrored room.  Alexandra was suddenly, sharply aware of the girl’s loneliness.  And her own.

She said, “It’s a beautiful thought.  Who did the choreography?”

“It began as a contemporary Hip Hop piece by Tabitha and Napoleon.  ‘NappyTab,’ we call them.  But I changed it to suit my style.”

“
Your
style?  Whoa.  I like your style very much.  Who else inspires you?”

Juliet’s eyes shined with emerald light.  “Mia Michaels is my favorite choreographer.  Tyce D’Orio, Stacey Tookey, Desmond Richardson.  Sonya Tayeh. 
Anyone
in Alvin Ailey.”

“Ailey is my favorite dance company,” admitted Alexandra, her eyes on Ruby as the toddler nodded off to sleep.  She tucked a soft pink blanket over her child and then looked up.  “I’ve been thinking about the words in that Alicia Keyes song.  If you were given one more chance, Jules…  what would you say to your mother?”

A beat of silence.  Then, very softly, “I’d tell her I miss her.  I’d ask her what I did to make her leave me in boarding schools.  Why she never found time to see me dance.  Why she missed so many birthdays. 
Why she wasn’t there on Christmas morning
.” 

Juliet’s eyes swam with tears.  “Why did she think that all I wanted for Christmas was a doll, Aunt Zan?  Or a snowboard, or rock-friggin-concert tickets?”

The girl swiped at her eyes.  “The last time we spent Christmas together, I decorated a small tree for us.  To surprise her.  Mom was so drunk on Christmas morning that she fell into the tree.  I never decorated another one.”

Sweet Mother of God.

Juliet gazed down at her sleeping cousin.  “I would
never
do that to my child,” she murmured.

Oh, Eve
. 
We can’t let this be the way your daughter sees her life.  We can’t let this be who Juliet is
… 

“It wasn’t you, Jules.  It was your mother’s nature to disappear.  She was like a wild bird who needed to fly high and free.  But it’s okay to love someone and still hate what they’ve done, honey.  What your mother did…  it doesn’t mean she didn’t love you.”

“Stop making excuses for her!”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“You always do.”

Alexandra stiffened.  Deep down, the accusations hit home. 
She’s right
. 

“Okay, the truth.  Your mother wasn’t always there for you when you needed her.  And neither was I.  I saw the way your mother neglected you, how no one stood up for you, and I did nothing.   I told myself it was okay, you weren’t
my
daughter.  But I should have
fought
for you!  I wasn’t brave enough.  I was a damn fool for not trying harder, Jules, and I’m so sorry…”

“You’re
sorry
?  You think that makes everything suddenly okay between us?  Seriously?”  The girl stared blindly at the wall of windows.  “You still don’t get it, Aunt Zan.  No sudden bonding is going to magically happen just because you’ve feigned some out-of-friggin-nowhere interest in my dancing.”

Just breathe.  “All I’m asking for is a chance to get to know you, Jules.”

“Why?  You think it matters to me?”

“I hope it does.  Because it matters to me.”

Juliet stared at her.  “You’re not responsible for me!   Just leave me the hell alone, like everyone else does.”

Eve’s voice. 
Just leave me and my daughter alone, Zan, we don’t need you!
 

“Just tell me what you want – ”

“I want
Christmas
!  I want a tree, I want to sit down all together and have pizza, be a
family
!” cried Juliet.  She burst into tears.  “But I’ll never have it now.  And it’s all my fault!”

“
Your
fault!  For what?  Why would you say such a thing?”

Juliet turned a tear-streaked face to her aunt.  “I told her I wasn’t coming to Middleburg, to my birthday party.  She’d been so happy, and I wanted to hurt her!  The way she hurt me so many times.  But I didn’t mean it, Aunt Zan, I
didn’t
, I was going to come.”  She swiped angrily at the tears.  “But when a person dies, there are no do-overs.”

“Your mother would never want you to think that, Jules.”

The girl rushed on.  “I got a phone call, just hours before she...  She said she had something for me.  She wanted to drive to New York, to see me.  And I told her no. 
No
!”  Her sobs were heartbreaking, inconsolable.  “Oh, God, if only I’d let her come.  She died just hours later.  She could have been in New York,
with me
!  But I told her to stay in Washington, and she did.  She went to the river.  It’s my fault that she’s dead!”  Juliet looked up at Alexandra with shining haunted eyes.  “Did she die because of me, Aunt Zan?”

Without thought Alexandra tore off her sling, wrapped both her arms tightly around the girl and rocked her against her chest.  “God, no!  No, Jules.  Your mother found out something that put her in danger.  It had
nothing
to do with you
.  I swear it
!”

I’m going to prove it to you
.

“Mother only showed up when she needed something.  It made me feel… as if I was
nothing
to her.  She never really
saw
me.  And now that she’s gone, there’s no one left to see me anymore.  Now I know I’m disappearing.”  Juliet’s eyes were huge, glistening.  Afraid.

Dear God.  “I see you, Jules,” she said gently, grasping the girl’s shoulders.  She looked deeply into her niece’s eyes.  “I
really see you
.  You are not invisible.”

You should be dancing, laughing, dreaming about your future, thought Alexandra.  Not broken.  She pulled her niece closer.  “You’re going to be okay, darling, I promise you.  Ruby and I won’t let you disappear.”

They stood clinging together for a long time.  For Alexandra, the irony was staggering.  Juliet was the only one who had
not
done anything wrong, and she was paying the most terrible price of all.