When the Music Stops (9 page)

The teens smiled and applauded Marta. She did a deep curtsy and trumpeted like an elephant. As she rose she spotted Dennis, the theatre committee, and a little girl watching her. Great, she thought. Another silly move, kind of like mimicking Madame Cosper and getting caught. Too late now to take it back.

The group applauded her, then personally thanked her for stepping in. This time she didn’t curtsy or trumpet a response. She smiled and assured them that her stepping in created no problem for her.

Lily Rose and the little girl stood to one side, waiting for the group to disperse. When they stepped forward, each handed Marta a white rose.

“That was wonderful, Marta. Thank you so much for offering your dance talents and for being gracious enough to step in.” Lily moved the little girl ahead with a gentle hand. “Olivia, honey, I want you to meet a real ballerina. This is Miss Selbryth. She’s going to be your ballet teacher in a few weeks.”

Olivia dropped her chin and tucked herself behind Lily Rose, taking sneak peeks toward Marta.

Marta knelt down beside Olivia. “I’m glad to meet you, Olivia. I hear you love to dance.”

Olivia nodded.

“Good. We’ll dance and twirl and you’ll have other children in class with you. How’s that?”

Olivia shrugged, then smiled.

Lily Rose shook Olivia’s hand and called back as they moved toward the exit. “I’ll talk with you soon.”

The last person waiting was Dennis. Marta felt his eyes follow her as she straightened the costumes on the clothes rack. “I noticed that Willis had an accomplished understudy.”

Marta laughed. “I muffed several lines, but I did a good job sitting on the cake.”

“How about we toast your play debut with a drink?”

“Can’t. I’m underage.”

“Are you old enough for an ice cream at the Dairy Queen?”

“Yes. I believe I am.”

Eating ice cream after performing brought up similar times with Steve in Billings. She enjoyed Dennis’s company, but she’d need to get home and ice her ankle if she planned to walk more than a few steps tomorrow.

“Hey, Marta. You’ve slipped away. Where did you go? What were you thinking about?”

“How I did this very same thing after performances in Billings.”

“Alone, with friends, or with your sorta boyfriend?”

“Both, but usually with Mister Sorta.”

“Is he a dancer?”

“No, he’s a college student who works as a part-time reporter. Why are you so curious?”

“Trying to get to know you. That was a great thing you did tonight.”

“Tell that to my ankle. It’s telling me to wrap it in ice.”

“Let me grab a cup of ice from the attendant. Will that help? Or I could massage it for you.”

Marta squirmed at his suggestion. “I’ll be fine, but I need to get home.

Dennis scraped the bottom of his bowl of ice cream, and carried their empty containers back to the counter. He turned to Marta. “Ready?”

She nodded. As they backed out of the Dairy Queen parking lot she asked, “Are you still dating Alice?”

“Who?”

“Alice Marsden from my family’s summer party.”

“Oh, her. What made you think I dated her?”

“You looked fascinated by her charms.” Marta stretched out “charms” with a southern accent.

“You must admit she’s a beautiful woman,” Dennis said. “But I prefer a woman who can swing a hammer and toss back my insults.”

h

Willis returned for his elephant role, leaving Marta the task of assisting the teens and watching their performances from backstage. Dennis didn’t return either night, perhaps because he wasn’t needed or because of their Dairy Queen conversation.

She’d stammered as he hinted about his interest in her. She didn’t know how to reply, so she’d said she needed to get home and didn’t speak another word until they reached Rhododendron Drive and were stopped at the back gate.

“Well, Marta?”

“Well what?”

“Are you available, or is Mister Sorta hogging your dating life?”

Was she available? She hadn’t heard from Steve for two weeks. Was he busy, or had he lost interest in her? Or was he following her cue of not writing? Where was Lynne when Marta needed her advice?

“I’m not entirely clear about that, Dennis. Can we be friends for now?”

Marta sensed a tension in him as soon as she finished speaking.

“No problem.” He got out of the car and opened her door. “Have a nice evening. See you around.” As he drove off he revved the engine as if to say ”I’m outta here.”

h

Marta called Lynne on Sunday after the matinee, anxious to hear her friend’s voice and catch up on her latest dating misadventure.

“So,” Lynne said. “You were a dancing elephant? Wait until I tell the little girls. Did anyone take a movie of the play?”

“I imagine, but I haven’t seen it yet.”

“At least you wore a mask. Should help keep down your embarrassment. I, on the other hand, have had one embarrassment after another here in the wild west. These summer dancers all have two left feet.”

“At least they’re trying.”

“I guess.” Lynne laughed. “But then I was showing off. I completed a complex turn and ended up falling off the outdoor platform where we danced. Not one handsome, eligible guy around to pick me up!”

“Now that’s embarrassing, even for you. Did you hurt yourself?”

“Just my pride. When I get out to visit you, I’ll expect you to have found at least one hunk to introduce me to. He doesn’t need to be as cute as Steve, but close would be preferred.”

“There
is
one guy that meets your criteria. He’s tall, funny, and likes to tease. He’s a carpenter for the community theatre. We went out for ice cream and—”

“Hold it. You’re dating a guy? What about Steve?”

Marta felt her face heat up thinking about Dennis. “We’re friends. He reminds me of that Lenny you dated.”

“You mean he flirts with other women while you’re out on a date?”

“We’re not dating; we’re just friends, Lynne.”

Lynne laughed. “Of course you are. You don’t need to worry about his type, Marta. They never get serious. Now Steve, on the other hand, fell hard in your case. How’s he doing?”

“I haven’t heard from him lately.”

“I’m sure he’ll call soon. For now, forget about him and Dennis and concentrate on finding a great guy for me. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Lynne always brightened Marta’s moods with her outlandish comments. Marta needed to forget about Steve and Dennis and focus on things she could control. In three days she promised to speak with the advanced ballet class. Time to plan what she’d mention to her former classmates. Auditions and dancing with the ballet company, of course. Her injury as well. Would they think she’d thrown away her career since it ended so quickly? She’d know next Wednesday.

5

M
arta walked to the dance studio to allow extra time to rehearse speaking to the advanced ballet class that met year-round. Lindsay told Marta she'd invited parents to attend as well. She'd suggested Marta discuss strategies for tryouts, her daily routines at the ballet company, and other bits to encourage the dancers.

As Marta stepped off the curb, her thoughts focused on what she'd mention to the waiting girls. A car honked. The lady driver shook her head. Marta jumped back, stepping off-balance into the gutter. She stared after the car, then drew in several deep breaths as she watched it continue along Burwell. She stepped back onto the sidewalk, watching the traffic breeze past, waiting for her heart rate to slow to normal.

Her near-miss with the car jumbled her ideas about what she wanted to say. Hopefully she'd remember them once she started speaking. Right now she needed to pay attention to where she stood. She waited for a break in the traffic, crossed the street, and walked into the studio.

As she entered the practice room, she felt her heartbeat quicken. A large circle of dancers and parents sat chatting. One chair in the circle remained empty beside Lindsay Holland. Lindsay stood to greet her.

“Here’s our Marta now. Right on time. Everyone, I’m sincerely proud to introduce Marta Selbryth, my first ever professional dancer."

The circle of parents and students clapped. Marta bowed her head and curtsied.

She recognized several classmates from last spring. Most were high school juniors from West Bremerton, a couple attended East Bremerton, and one drove in from Central Kitsap for classes. Rosalia was the only new student face. None of the dancers had become her close friends. Why was that? Was she hard to approach? She didn't think so. She'd easily made friends with her corps de ballet friends Lynne and Bartley.

Lindsay stepped toward Marta and took her arm, directing her to join the group. "I've invited Marta to give our young dancers a chance to reacquaint themselves with her and ask those burning questions they keep asking me."

Everyone chuckled.

Marta sat, crossed her ankles, and straightened her spine as she smiled, looking around the circle. "Thank you for inviting me. It's wonderful to be back in the studio."

"Let me start," Lindsay said. "Tell us the best part about performing as a professional dancer."

Marta nodded and bit her lip. Talking about dancing carried her back to the moments before the first time the curtain went up and she realized she'd become a professional dancer. Her stomach did flip flops. "All the practicing, the blisters, and the tiredness disappeared as I stepped onto the stage. You know how you feel when it's your birthday or when it's Christmas? Roll those two events together and you'll begin to understand. During every performance, the huge professional sets, the fancy costumes, the live orchestra music, and the choreography swept me up. As corps dancers we frame the soloists, but we also add depth and fill the stage with our dancing in the village and ballroom scenes. I was lucky to take lessons from Miss Holland. Learning famous choreography while I danced here gave me confidence, and it will for you too."

"How do you learn so many dances?" one parent asked. "I've heard that you only work a few weeks on a new ballet."

“That's true. At the ballet company we learned several dances at the same time to cut down on the amount of time we need for a new ballet. It confused me for a bit, so I suggest you tackle as much choreography as possible while you’re here. That will help you become familiar with more ballet music as you prepare you for audition choreography."

Marta paused and noticed Lindsay's appreciative smile. "In Billings we danced on a wonderful stage. We had dressings rooms with lighted mirrors and—"

"Did you receive flowers on stage?" asked one dancer.

“Yes and no. Only the principal dancers, the artistic director, and the conductor receive flowers from the patrons. I was a corps dancer, but my mom and my friends brought me flowers like yours do after your recital.”

“Did you perform with famous dancers or go on tours?” Rosalia asked.

“No famous dancers came last year, but Patrice who’s our principal ballerina, is a wonderful dancer and is well-known in Montana. Our company does a
Nutcracker
tour each November and December. It was fun, but lots of the stages were not good for dancers. Some cement floors gave us shin splints; other turned out to be old wooden stages that ruined our
pointe
shoes with splinters.”

“What ballets did you dance? And did you have any solos?”

“I danced in the corps in
Coppelia
, the
Nutcracker,
and
Sleeping Beauty
. I had two solos: Mother Ginger in the
Nutcracker
and the evil fairy, Carabosse, in
Sleeping Beauty.”

Lindsay spoke up. “Tell the parents about your practices. They think I work their daughters too long and too hard sometimes.”

Several parents nodded and whispered to each other.

“Lindsay’s classes are exactly what dancers need to be prepared. We practiced five days a week, morning and afternoon, except performance days when times vary. We danced six hours a day, including warm-ups, learning and rehearsing our choreography, and attending meetings. I’d usually go back to where I lived and practice in the evenings as well.”

Several girls looked to each other and grimaced. Many moms shook their heads; a few frowned. Lindsay shrugged.

“Did they
make
you practice on your own in the evenings?”

Marta smiled. “No. I chose to practice on my own because I wanted to show them I could be as close to perfect as possible. And I needed the extra time to work on my turns and extensions.”

“So, you were allowed to do things in the evening if you wanted like go to a movie or on a date?”

A titter of laughter followed. The girls glanced at their mothers. Their mothers glanced toward them with cautious stares.