Dancing Shoes and Honky-Tonk Blues (32 page)

BOOK: Dancing Shoes and Honky-Tonk Blues
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“A hoagie?” He shakes his head in confusion like a hoagie is a foreign object or something.
“It’s like a sub sandwich,” I explain even though I didn’t eat one and I don’t have food poisoning but I think it’s better not to let him know that I’m having a panic attack or a nervous breakdown or that he’s going to be dancing the rumba solo.
“So you think you can dance? We’re next.”
“No,” I answer in a small pathetic voice. Not now, not ever, but I leave that part out.
“You should go back up to the lodge.”
I nod. “I think so.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No! You stay. I’ll be fine.” Someday.
“You’re shaking. Abby, I’ll go with you.” His look of concern is almost my undoing.
“No . . . just help me over to the limo.”
He doesn’t look convinced but nods and slips his arm about my waist. The limo driver is leaning against the hood of the car but straightens up when he sees Rio helping me.
“Everything okay, Abby?”
“She’s not feeling well,” Rio says, answering for me. “Can you take her up to the lodge?”
“Sure thing.”
He opens the door for me but I hesitate before getting in. “Will Mitchell be angry with me? Missing this rehearsal is a big deal.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Rio assures me.
“Okay, thanks.”
“Just get some rest. Do you want me to call a doctor?”
“No. I’ll be fine.”
He looks uncertain but I fold myself into the backseat. To my credit I hold it together during the ride up to Rabbit Run Lodge and long enough to take off my costume and carefully hang it in the closet. But then I dissolve into a quivering puddle onto the bed.
I really want my mother. I need her strength, her wisdom.
“My God, they’re counting on me,” I whisper into the darkness. “They believe in me and I’m letting them down!” I think of my mother, who at a young age was left with two children and a pile of debt. She was able to scrape together a decent living for us and here I am with the opportunity of a lifetime and I’m screwing it up.
Hot tears slide down my cheeks and soak onto the pillowcase. Ticked off at my sorry self, I flip the pillow over and finally drift off to sleep . . . and dream that I’m dancing. I know it’s a dream because I’m me but a little girl and I’m not on the ballroom dance floor but dancing in a field of wildflowers . . . with my daddy. He spins me around and around and I’m laughing without a care in the world.
“Spin me again, Daddy,” I plead in my little girl voice.
“You’ll get dizzy.”
“I don’t care. I love to dance. Spin me again.”
He does because he’s my daddy and I’m laughing and twirling . . . with my eyes closed. I can smell the clover and feel the sun on my face and I’m so happy . . . but when I open my eyes my daddy is gone and I’m dancing alone.
When I wake up the next morning I remember the strange dream. I wonder if there is any truth to dreams having meaning. Try as I might I can’t think of what the dream might be telling me. Life is short? Happiness is fleeting?
What?
My phone vibrating on the nightstand distracts me. I pick it up and look at the text message from Julia: YOU CAN DO THIS, YOU BIG CHICKENSHIT.
I toss my hair extensions over my shoulder and laugh. Danny must have told her that I skipped out of the dress rehearsal. With a squeal of determination I toss back the covers, swing my legs over the side of the bed, and sink my toes into the shag carpet. I wish I had some inspirational music to go with my sudden change of kick-ass attitude. Like the theme from
Rocky
, but for some reason the theme song from the movie
Nine to Five
starts playing in my head. I hum along with Dolly Parton, refusing to let my old insecurity rear its ugly head.
26
A Day Without Dancing?
I’m hanging on to my kick-ass attitude by the skin of my teeth while Rio and I wait in the wings to perform for the last time. It doesn’t help that Danny and Angelina are nailing their reprise of the tango to “Roxanne” from the
Moulin Rouge
soundtrack and the packed house loves it.
When their dance ends Ben has a difficult time shushing the fans so that the judges can speak. I don’t blame them . . . the dance was amazing and Danny was once the hometown football hero, so I guess I’m back to my underdog status.
“Terrific,” Ben gushes to Angelina. There has been rumor that they hooked up last night. “I was spellbound.”
Spellbound? I groan. “Give me a break,” I say in Rio’s ear. He grins and it’s obvious that he is happy to see my old self back. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m ready to kick some serious Angelina butt.”
“Carson, what do you think?” Ben asks . . . and did he just wink at Angelina?
“Stunning! Ten!”
“Whoohoo!” Ben says and I wish he could see me glaring at him. “Myra?”
“Sexy! Danny, you nailed the rock turns this time. And your links . . . the sharp staccato movements were spot-on! A ten!”
“Pah,” I say and I so hope it’s a cussword. I never really did find out even though I’ve been using it. My heart sinks but Rio leans over and says in my ear, “We can get a perfect score too, Abby. We’ve done it before with this dance and you’re even better now.” He holds out his hands for our traditional knuckle bump and it hits me that this is the last dance for us. My throat clogs with emotion but I determinedly swallow it and lift my chin. “Let’s do this!”
Because of the special night the lights dim to nearly complete darkness while we wait in the center of the dance floor for the commercial break to end. The candles flicker on the elegant tables and overhead the disco ball sends shimmering light over the silver walls.
“Now for their final dance in the
Dancing with the Rednecks
competition,” Ben says with high drama, “I give you Rio Martin and Abby Harper dancing the rumba!” He rolls the
r
and it echoes in the room and then in an instant the spotlight illuminates our pose in the dark room. A hush falls over the crowd and then the beautiful Celine Dion and Pavarotti duet “I Hate You, Then I Love You” begins . . .
My heart is pounding but I look into Rio’s eyes and let the beauty of the music fill my head. Soon the crowd and the cameras fade into the background. I let the sensual Latin dance take over my body.
Slow
, quick, quick,
slow.
I roll my hips, tease, and then withdraw while Celine croons . . . “I hate you and then I love you . . .” Rio draws me in for a near kiss as the duet crescendos with the powerful voices blending but then I spin away, making Rio chase me . . . wanting me more.
My feet swivel, causing the silver fringe on my costume to shimmer. Rolling my hips I let Rio lead me into a walk and box combo and into an eight-count underarm turn, but my feet do this from memory while my body charms and retreats, teases and taunts until I give in to the love that I so strongly feel, letting Rio pull me in while Celine’s and Pavarotti’s voices blend together in the final few notes, singing “Anyone but you . . . but you . . .”
We’re supposed to end in a near kiss but instead Rio captures my mouth with his while the spotlight fades to black with the final notes of the amazing song.
The lights flash back on and Rio spins me around to the crowd. There is a hush that has my heart pounding.
Why isn’t anyone clapping?
Rio’s hand tightens on mine and I start to tremble. But when we take a deep bow the audience erupts in thunderous applause. Rio spins me again and we smile and then dance closer to the judges. So I guess we were good after all?
Ben, who usually has a big MC grin on his face, is standing there holding the microphone blinking at us. Finally he says, “Wow.”
I’m hoping that it was a good wow because wow can go either way.
Ben finally manages to give us a big grin. “Sorry. I was speechless and that’s difficult to do. At the risk of sounding cheesy, I have to say that your rumba was beautiful. Abby, any comments?”
“I just let the music, the emotion take over.”
Rio looks like he wants to comment but Ben turns to the judges, I suppose in the interest of time. “Carson? How do you feel about Rio and Abby’s final dance?”
“Well, I have to say that I was amazed at the emotion. Technically there were a few glitches but the beauty of the dance overcame any flaws. I was so moved that I have to give you a ten!”
The audience cheers in approval as Ben shouts over them, “Myra?”
“Rio and Abby, if there were glitches in the technique I missed them because I too was caught up in the emotion. The first time you performed the rumba it was all about the sex, the sizzle. Oh, but this time there was something deeper and I was moved by your performance. I too give you a ten.”
Rio smiles at me and squeezes my hand.
“Peter?” Ben asks over the applause.
“Danny and Angelina brought the heat, the sizzle, but Abby and Rio brought the love, the emotion. Both dances were a joy to watch. I give Rio and Abby a ten! I suppose the audience will have to break the tie.”
“You heard it, folks,” Ben booms over the roar of the crowd as confetti falls from the ceiling. “America, you must choose, so pick up your phones and dial one-eight-hundred-REDNECK or go online and break this tie. We’ll be back for one last love show where the winner will be crowned and take home fifty thousand dollars! Until then . . . see ya!”
“I want to find Mama and Jesse,” I shout into Rio’s ear since the noise is deafening.
“I’ll try,” he says and we begin to weave through the massive crowd. Somehow, though, my hand slips from his and the crush of the people has the big bodyguards suddenly surrounding me. They part the way and take me outside to the limo where Danny is already waiting. Fans rush toward the car and the driver says something in his headset and starts the engine.
“We’ve got to get out of here before we’re blocked in,” he says over the speaker.
Danny shakes his head. “Crazy, huh?”
“Yeah.” I look out the window and there are actually people trying to follow the limo. “This is unreal.”
“You rocked tonight,” Danny comments with a grin.
“You too! I wish we both could win, doggone it.”
Danny shrugs. “I won’t lie. I’d love to win the cash but I’ve already gotten something worth more than the money.”
“Oh, Danny, I’m so happy for you and Julia.”
He angles his head. “Thanks. But it looks to me like you’ve fallen in love too, Abby. Am I right?”
Catching my bottom lip between my teeth, I nod.
“I hope things work out for you two. Rio seems like a nice guy.”
“Thank you. There are obvious complications but I hope we can overcome them.”
“If you really love him don’t let anything stand in your way.”
I nod and then we both fall silent for the rest of the ride, both of us lost in our own thoughts.
 
Mitchell Banks declares Sunday a day of rest even though he advises us not to go into town for church services because it would just be a media circus. Not wanting to deal with that, I spend a quiet day in my room watching movies and trying not to be nervous about tomorrow night. After trying to contact Rio several times I finally realize that the little red light is blinking on my room phone and I hurry over to retrieve the message.
“Hey there, Abby,” he says in that low sexy voice that sends a shiver down my spine. “I was called out of town for business, so I won’t see you until late in the afternoon on Monday or even just right before the show if I get hung up. I tried your cell but it must have been turned off.”
Damn!
“So just get some rest and enjoy a day without dancing.”
“A day without dancing,” I say with a bit of wonder and I realize that although there were days over the past six weeks that I wished for that, I no longer do . . . especially if it means dancing with Rio. I might not ever be as talented as Angelina but like Carson said I make up for it with emotion.
Of course after the message I can’t go back to watching
Ghostbusters
even though it’s almost to the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man part that never ceases to make me laugh. This makes me think of Jesse since this is also one of his all-time favorite movies, but I’ve already talked to him and Mama twice and I don’t think I can take them telling me not to worry about winning one more time, bless their hearts.
So instead I lie on the bed and think about Rio and contemplate just what kind of business he’s up to. Of course all kinds of things run through my head like he’s seeing his secret girlfriend or has gone home never to return. After going through a million and one scenarios, none of them good except for the one where I daydream that he’s buying an engagement ring for me, I drift off to sleep and dream that I’m doing the tango with the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man . . . so I guess my day wasn’t without dancing after all.
27
Sweep Me off My Feet
“The moment we’ve been waiting for has finally arrived,” Ben announces from the center of the dance floor. The crowd cheers but then he says, “But first we have a special treat for you. On the big screen we have clips from the highlights of the past six weeks of
Dancing with the Rednecks
!”
I turn my attention to the huge television screen along with all of the contestants who are sitting here with me. After a big dinner together up at the lodge we were brought here via limos and of course the streets were packed with cheering fans both from Misty Creek and from all over who traveled here for the final show.
Donna Summer belts out “Last Dance” while we watch bloopers and crazy moments like Mary Lou Laker’s out-of-control spin, Betty Cook’s creepy “Time Warp” dance, and of course my break-dancing, saving-me-from-crashing move. There are arguments caught on film, weary-end-of-the-day moments . . . how’d they get Rio rubbing my feet? And tender tears when contestants get voted off.
BOOK: Dancing Shoes and Honky-Tonk Blues
5.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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