Dancing Lessons (16 page)

Chico’s throat locked, but he nodded and watched until Rafael was out of the room. Then his gaze went to Jase. He had no idea what to say.

Jase did not have that problem. “So you’re going to stick around after all?”

Chico couldn’t read his tone at all. He was still smiling, amused at everything, and though it possibly wasn’t aimed at Chico, it felt like it was.

“I don’t know.” Chico currently had no plans for his life and didn’t know how to feel about it, but he didn’t want to discuss it with this man.

Jase’s smile dipped, as though he didn’t care for that answer.

Good
, Chico thought, with a viciousness that surprised him. Someone else should be as confused as he was.

But Jase perked up a moment later with another conversational gambit. “Davi says you sell shoes.”

Chico tensed. His tone was too close to John’s when he’d say certain things.
This is Chico. He sells suits.

Chico had sold expensive menswear that had included suits and custom neckties and cufflinks, to private clients only. He had to know fit, fabric, color, style, and tailoring, for a job like that. But in the right tone, it was nothing.

“And now you design costumes?” Jase had narrowed his eyes to watch Chico carefully.

Chico’s fingers twitched, and pink thread spilled to the floor.
Nobody needs to wear that for Halloween, Chico. Nobody else even takes these things seriously. You’re wasting your time.

Jase tried again, outright frowning now. “And you dance too?”

“No,” Chico responded at last. “Not me, silly Chico.”

“What’s a silly Chico?” Rafael demanded curiously as he came back in.

Jase broke in earnestly. “Did I say something wrong? Is this about the other day? Because you know, I didn’t know. And it’s a small town, and I thought I’d check out all my options, maybe scope what the scene is like, but it was mostly just a friendly dinner.” He babbled almost as much as Chico once he got going.

Chico smiled at him, but it was distracted. “No, you didn’t say anything. I’ve just, I think, I’ve been brave enough for one day. There’s a pile of pillows I could be hiding under.”

“You’re going to go?” Rafael raised his voice at the question and stiffened when Chico stood up. His stare was steady. He would have seemed calm if Chico hadn’t known him, if he hadn’t watched dancers control every single aspect of their bodies, even their faces.

“I have things to think about it, and it’s late.” Chico looked away from him in order to gather up his needles and thread. “You said—” He paused because of Jase’s presence and to pick up the costume. “You said slow was okay. And I don’t want to be stupid Chico again.”

“Were you ever?” Rafael’s tone was not at all kind. At least his rancor wasn’t aimed at Chico.

Chico gazed imploringly at him.

Rafael stared back and let out a noisy breath. “Slow. Fine. But don’t take too long, all right, Chico?”

“I’ll have her bodice done by Friday.” Chico frowned at him for thinking he’d leave something so important unfinished.

Rafael glowered, actually glowered at him. “Not the performance, Chico. That’s not what I meant. I’m thinking about you. I’m anxious, and I’ll miss you; that’s what I’m trying to say. Someone ought to kick your ex in the balls.”

“Uh.” Chico blinked, lost for words all over again at being placed first. He looked over to Jase, staring at Chico with concern and worry in his expression, then clutched his sewing things to his chest before turning to Rafael again. He approached him with light, careful steps and stopped just in front of him. He was trembling, but he couldn’t do anything about it.

He took a long, deep breath and looked up. “I like you a lot,” he confessed, as though it was the worst thing to ever happen to him. His throat was dry as a bone, and he nearly croaked the words. “I don’t want you to not like me.”

“Now you
are
being a silly Chico,” Rafael responded softly, immediately, with a sudden, goofy sort of smile.

Chico was still shaking, but it felt like aftershocks now. “I didn’t know how worn down I’d gotten from all the things he used to say and do.” Chico summed up three years of his life and assumed Rafael would understand. “I’m just starting to feel strong again. Some of that is because of you, but I don’t want to risk losing that, not even for you.” He continued, conscious of Jase, who didn’t seem to know where to look. “I don’t want to be that Chico again. So I need… to be careful. You’ll wait?”

His legs were barely supporting him. He couldn’t believe he’d said that. Of all the stupid, reckless things to say, he’d asked Rafael to wait for him with Jase right there. He’d all but said he didn’t trust Rafael and then asked him to wait anyway.

He took one pained, gasping breath while Rafael searched his face, and then hiccupped in surprise when Rafael nodded.

“Oh.” Chico shouldn’t have been so startled. But his wide, relieved smile seemed to make Rafael relax too.

Chico nodded back at him, breathing easier. He studied Rafael for another moment, then backed up and turned toward the french doors.

The night air seemed impossibly cold, and his feet seemed to find every rock, but he hardly noticed. He stumbled along the path through the trees, but the moonlight was enough, now that he knew the way. The whole time he grinned to himself. He had talked about what he wanted, and Rafael had taken him seriously and listened. That was, undeniably, progress.

And Rafael had agreed to wait because Chico was worth waiting for.

DAVI AGREED
on the progress, without even minding much when Chico showed up on his doorstep to talk about it. After a while, in the spirit of being a grown-up and a new person, Chico also offered to look into yoga classes, if Davi was willing to take the chance.

“Look who’s gutsy all of a sudden,” Davi taunted him but scowled without actually responding to the suggestion. He’d brought out whiskey, which Chico didn’t usually drink, and they spent hours on the floor like they were teenagers, talking about boys.

And girls, when Davi finally opened up about his crush.

Finally, Chico got to tease his cousin in return. Life was better than he’d thought it could be when he’d gotten up that morning. He had stuff to think about, but at that moment, life was good.

FOR THE
next few days, Davi left him alone. Chico couldn’t tell if this was Davi attempting to be tactful or if he was too busy constructing the set for the ballet while also doing his coding work. Or, possibly, if Davi was embarrassed about their drunken conversation and scared Chico was going to say something. Dumb Davi, as if Chico wouldn’t understand the fear of being hurt.

Chico completed his work on the bodice, finished his curtains, and then took a deep breath and made himself walk to the studio to drop off the costume.

Maybe because of the upcoming performance, the studio seemed less crowded than usual. No ballroom classes were listed on the board. No one was in the office or the smaller dance rooms. A tap class was in one of the back classrooms, which took him completely by surprise and sent him scurrying back out the door.

When he gave in and went looking for Rafael in less usual places, it was Mrs. Winters he found. She was outside under a tree, cross-legged on a yoga mat with an iced tea in her hand. She wasn’t dressed for yoga.

“You’ve returned. Are you looking for Rafael?” she inquired coolly, before Chico could back out of this situation as well. “He’s gone. There was an issue with one of the stage lights, and he had to drive somewhere to borrow a replacement.” She waved a hand as she said “somewhere” as if anywhere other than Brandywine was nonexistent.

Chico had seen pictures of her performing in other countries and in major cities, but chose not to say anything about it.

“I, uh, finished this.” When he held up the costume, safe in a garment bag he’d taken from his closet, her expression changed. She held out a hand. “It’s nothing.” Chico tried to wave it away like she would have. “Not a major alteration, only some details to make it prettier.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Show me.”

Chico crossed slowly to her and then kneeled down when it felt rude to stand over her. Her hand never wavered, so he offered her the costume and meekly took her iced tea when she thrust it at him.

She unzipped the bag and pushed it open enough to see the bodice. She didn’t touch it. She didn’t speak. Chico watched her face, glancing away when she looked up. “Why didn’t you correct me when I pronounced your name wrong? My son recently informed me I have been saying it incorrectly.”

Of all things she could have said, Chico was least prepared for that. “I… you’re intimidating, and I wanted you to like me.”

“Because you like Raf?” She pretended to return her attention to the costume, but Chico wasn’t fooled. “It’s your name. Always insist others pronounce your name correctly. Now, say it for me.”

He cleared his throat and wiped the condensation from her glass onto the grass. “Chico,” he said clearly, and she smiled.

“Chico,” she repeated, properly, “this is lovely. I thought perhaps it was too much, but then it reminded me of one of the other costumes. The king’s, I think it was. And your needlework…. I can only imagine what you could do if you had the time.”

“Did Rafael tell you to say that?” Chico blew out a breath, hoping she’d think he was sweating and flushed from the sun and not nerves and embarrassment.

She lifted an eyebrow. “Do you think Rafael tells me what to do? He runs my studio, not me.”

“Oh.” Chico widened his eyes. “Of course not.”

“But he runs it well,” she continued calmly, a tiny, unruffled hawk. “He likes his life here. How about you?” She zipped up the garment bag and set it aside on the mat before reaching for her tea. She nodded as she took it. “You came up here to get away, as a lot of people do. But will you be staying?”

“I don’t know!” Chico put his hands out because he honestly didn’t. “Are you asking what I want? Because I don’t know.”

“Most people say they want to be happy.” Mrs. Winters spoke evenly, but her words startled Chico into leaning forward. He met her eyes and stared hard at her.

“Do I want to be happy?” Chico put his hands on his knees and held on tight.

“It’s something that takes some doing.” Mrs. Winters shook her head like the younger generation made no sense to her. “You cannot settle and be happy. It takes courage and hard work. Greatness always does.”

Chico opened his mouth to remind her he didn’t come from a family of greatness. He stopped when he thought about ever saying that to his mom or his dad, or Camille, or even to Davi’s parents.

He scooted closer. “Were you really okay with Rafael not being a professional dancer?” He heard himself and froze. “If you don’t mind me asking?”

She froze too, as if he’d completely surprised her, and she wasn’t sure why he was asking. “Not at first. Peter—his father—thought he was throwing his career away, that it was all based on some fear. But now that we’ve retired and are spending more and more time here, I can see that he likes this life. He loves this place. He loves teaching. He is happy. That’s what we want for him.”

“That’s all?” Chico wasn’t certain why he kept pressing the point either. Rafael had said he liked his life. Chico shouldn’t need confirmation from someone else. But maybe cheating boyfriends ruined the ability to judge reliable sources. “Not… more?”

“Grandchildren?” Mrs. Winters returned, appearing both genuinely curious whether that’s what he meant and interested in the idea.

Chico’s mouth dropped open, which made her lips twist.

“Rafael has the life he wants.” Mrs. Winters handed Chico her tea, as if she thought he needed something restorative. “If he had a complaint, it was that it can get lonely. If you are asking me, and I believe you are, I’d say he wants to see if you might like to be a part of that life. He hasn’t been subtle.” The words were knowing, and Chico was hot all over again to think of what they’d done in the costuming room. “None of my children are shy, Rafael least of all, but in your case, he has surpassed himself in public displays. It’s as if he’s forgotten patience.”

“He’s been very patient with me.” Chico defended him with the surreal feeling he was in some dream where he talked this openly about his love life with anyone’s mother, much less Rafael’s. “I’m not very brave.”

“
You’ve
been patient with
him
.” Mrs. Winters tossed her head. “I love my son, but he can be persistent when he is excited, something he obviously gets from his father.”

Chico forgot to blink. “He hasn’t… that is… he thinks we could be….
You’re
the one who…. I mean, Rafael is the one waiting for me to decide if I’d like… to go forward.” He didn’t know if it was because of ballet or what, that Mrs. Winters was so okay with talking about her gay son’s romantic life. But her eyebrows went up at his last words, as if he’d truly surprised her. “I… don’t want to mess it up,” Chico finished. “I’ve done that before. Made the wrong choice to be safe. Been stupid, helpless Chico.”

Mrs. Winters lowered her eyebrows and studied him. Then she leaned forward and tipped the bottom of the glass with one finger until Chico drank some.

“
Stupid, helpless Chico
?” she echoed him, while Chico stared in amazement at the glass he’d emptied. He looked up into her sharp eyes. For once, her smile was exactly like her son’s. “That’s not how you told me your name was pronounced.”

THE WORDS
haunted him, as they had, no doubt, been meant to. He understood now why Mrs. Winters didn’t teach the introductory classes, although he could admit to some curiosity about what Mr. Winters was like in the classroom.

Chico had taken to sitting next to him for a lot of the practice sessions he’d watched. He seemed quiet and thoughtful and looked a bit like an older version of Rafael might look. After rehearsals, he would share whatever he wrote in his notebook with Rafael, and Rafael always took it seriously.

Maybe that was why, when Chico walked into the dress rehearsal, he expected to find Mr. Winters in the back, as usual. The rehearsal wasn’t even in the dance studio, yet for some reason, Chico had thought it would be as informal as every other rehearsal he’d witnessed.