Off Balance (Ballet Theatre Chronicles Book 1) (28 page)

“Wow. Well. A big night for her.”

“I know.” Lana gestured to the pan. “That’s why I wanted to bring in something for afterward. And these only take, like, ten minutes to make.”

“What fun. I don’t think I’ve had Rice Krispies treats since I was a kid.”

“Want me to cut you out a piece before I go?”

“Tempting, but best to save my calories for tonight.” Alice opened the refrigerator and pulled out a Diet Coke.

“Business dinner, right?”

“Yup.”

“Gil told me you two had a big one.”

“Yes indeed. Time to reel in Andy Redgrave.”

Lana put down her spoon and turned to look at Alice. “The two of you are having dinner with Andy Redgrave?”

“We are.” She watched Lana eyes widen with surprise, uneasiness. “What? You mean Gil didn’t tell you we were meeting Andy?”

“No. I guess he didn’t mention that detail.” Lana sighed. “Here we go again.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be purely business tonight. Gil’s boss, Charlie Stanton, will be there.”

Lana picked the spoon back up and focused her attention on the contents of the pot. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but closed it. A moment later, the words came out in a rush. “What do you think happened? That night, with Andy?”

“Lana. Don’t torture yourself.” Alice focused on popping open her can. “Whatever happened that night is not going to repeat itself here.”

“But what if this kind of thing is, well, in his nature?”

Alice looked up in surprise. “Why on earth would you think that?”

“Okay. Here’s the thing.” Lana switched off the stove burner. “Last Friday night after the performance, Gil took me to this show he loves, this beautiful woman singing, and she came over, totally flirtatious, and you know Gil, he was eating it up, offering it back. Only ten minutes later, I come to find out that ‘she’ is a ‘he.’ A drag queen, a gorgeous one. But a gay male, as well. So was Gil flirting back with a woman or a man?” She looked miserable.

“Oh, boy.” Alice began to chuckle. “Trust Gil to come up with a unique scenario for you.”

Lana didn’t laugh with her. “Gil was so comfortable with all the flirtation and Jewel’s caressing. They seemed to know each other well. Do you suppose Gil sort of…leans that way? Or gives in easily to the obvious invitations? Which—why be in denial?—we both saw happening that night.”

Lana’s voice was shaking by the end; Alice knew what it had cost her to get the words out. “Look,” she told Lana, “I can offer speculation, I can offer reassurances. But the truth is, you need to hear the answers from him. Come right out and ask him. Just throw it at him, out of nowhere, and see how he reacts.”

“I can’t do that!”

“Sure, it would be awkward. But you’d get answers.”

“Maybe I’m not ready to hear the answers.” Lana seized the box of Rice Krispies and began to shake the contents into the melted mixture in the saucepan. Little Rice Krispies flew everywhere. “You know, my mom keeps telling me I’m making some big mistake, getting involved with him. And sometimes I wonder if she’s right.”

Alice watched Lana stir the mixture and spoon it into a greased pan. She herself had spoken with Lana’s mother a few times, and each time, the woman had sounded suspicious, somehow disapproving, even as she thanked Alice for hosting her daughter, and was Lana there, right now, and if not, why not?

“Can I offer a personal observation?” Alice asked Lana.

“Go ahead.”

“Your mom’s sure a big influence in your life, I can tell.”

“She is.”

“Which means she’s got an awful lot of power over you.” Alice tried to keep her voice relaxed, unthreatening, but she could feel tension seeping into the air. “And I’ve watched you sometimes as you’re talking to her. You sort of hunch over, as if you’re anxious, or cowed by her. But she doesn’t strike me as the harsh, authoritarian type either. It’s clear the two of you are close and love each other deeply. So, I think I’m missing something. Something big.”

Lana focused her attention on patting the Rice Krispies treats into the pan. Only after she’d finished did she speak.

“Okay. You shared your private mom story with me, so I guess I should share mine. Here’s the thing.” She drew a deep breath and when she spoke, she directed her words to the pan. “When I was seven, my mom tried to end her life by crashing a car she was driving. She’d lost a baby six months earlier and just couldn’t bear to live with the pain of it all. The police found her, sixty miles from home, near a steep bluff she’d planned to drive off, into the river below. She’d swerved at the last minute and crashed into the trees instead. They rescued her, and when she came home from the hospital six weeks later, we all banded around her. Our aunts had told us that if we kids did our part, if we were loving and helpful, we could save her. And they were right. We did it. When she started smiling again, it felt like a miracle.”

She looked up at Alice. “I’ll do anything for her to keep that darker stuff at bay. Some of my other siblings can be slack-offs. So I made it my role in the family to be my mom’s helper in any way I can. Well, you can imagine what a bad call it was for me to leave Kansas City. It was the worst thing I could have done to my mom.”

“So, why’d you do it?”

Lana’s chest began to heave, as if she’d been running a race. “Because I was dying inside. I saw it all, where I was going with my career. It was stagnating there in Kansas City. I could feel it and it was like suffocating. So I sent that audition tape.”

For a while neither of them spoke. Lana began furiously wiping down the stove, the counter, scrubbing at the pan she’d just used. The hiss of the water filled the air, making it impossible to talk. The silence, once she’d turned off the water, seemed abrupt, expectant.

“Your poor mother,” Alice said softly.

“I know.”

“But poor you, as well.”

Lana shook her head. “No. I don’t see it that way at all. Lucky me. I had a mother who came back from that terrible, dark place. The rest has been a small price to pay.”

“But didn’t you hear what you said? You just said, ‘I was dying inside.’”

“Oh. That’s just what came out of my mouth. Of course I wasn’t dying.” Lana’s eyes darted about, looking for something else to clean.

Alice leaned closer. “You’ve spent your life in pursuit of an artistic career. You’re an extraordinarily talented dancer. Normally it’s the family and home life that revolves around a kid of such prodigious talent, not the other way around.” A thought took hold in her mind. “So. Your mother has been fine since that year? No big relapses?”

“Nothing too big, thank God. She gets difficult around the anniversary of his death, during the holiday months. And it was a little iffy when she was expecting the twins. When they were born, both healthy, everyone heaved a sigh of relief. Of course that doubled the workload for my mom.”

“Which is to say, for you as well.”

“It was a labor of love.”

“So. You said she was ‘difficult’ around the holidays. But not ‘depressed.’”

“Yes. And?”

“That sounds more manageable than depression.”

Lana snorted. “You bet it is, and I’m proud our efforts have paid off in that way.”

“But here’s the thing. Maybe, just maybe, after all these years and no sign of a serious recurrence, she’s relying on your help and support because it’s there, as much as she needs. Or wants. And all she has to do is act like it’s all too much once again—and I can just visualize the tone she uses, because I’ve heard it. Like a martyred but peeved voice. And boom. You respond to it, lightning quick.”

“I left her with a huge load to bear.” Lana’s tone grew defensive. “It was very hard for her to see me go.”

“I wholly believe that. You made her life so much easier, you probably accommodated her in every way possible. That had to have been nice. And now you’re establishing a life of your own, like a person your age is supposed to do. You’re thriving, away from her. I’ll bet that threatens her. And I worry that she might try to use that against you. Manipulate you.”

“Stop it! Just stop it right there.” Lana held up both hands. “My mother has suffered so much. Chronic back pain aside, she’s delivered seven children. She watched her baby die. The pain was so terrible it nearly killed her. She’s devoted her life to raising her children. And here you are, acting suspicious about her motives.” She started to say more but her voice trembled. She looked up at the clock on the wall.

“I’m late. I have to go.”

“Lana, wait.” Alice reached over and tried to touch her arm, but Lana eluded her. “I’m sorry, I spoke out of line. I was just hypothesizing and I missed the mark.”

“You sure did.” Lana’s angry eyes met hers. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go.”

She grabbed the pan of Rice Krispies treats, her dance bag and ran out of the kitchen, up the stairs, as Alice stood there dumbly. She took a sip of Diet Coke and shook her head.

The mom thing again. It was destined to be an eternal minefield between her and Lana, bombs exploding right and left. How had something so well-meaning turned out so poorly?

She heard the guest room door upstairs closing and a moment later Lana scurried down the stairs with a tossed out “good bye.” The front door slammed before Alice could reply.

Just as well. She would have only said the wrong thing again.

Dinner with Andy, his associate, Gil and Charlie Stanton, was a surreal shift in mood, a formal affair in a formal restaurant, fine food and a stilted ambiance. Andy’s associate, one of the foundation executives, directed question after question to Gil and Charlie, which they answered carefully, correctly. Andy remained largely silent, eyes ever observant. After twenty minutes of listening, Alice felt bored and grumpy. She blamed Gil for it. Gil, in a snippy mood of his own, who’d told her on the drive over that she was to clam up tonight and let him and Charlie do all the talking. She’d asked him why her presence had been required in the first place. He replied, somewhat testily, that Andy himself had requested it, telling Gil a business dinner with all men was taxing and besides, he’d taken a liking to Alice and her caustic wit. Gil’s sideways glance after sharing this last bit of information told Alice that these days, Gil was not sharing Andy’s appreciation of her wit.

“And no off-color jokes tonight,” Gil had added. “Not in front of Charlie and Andy’s associate.”

“Thank you for saying that because I wouldn’t have been able to figure out that one on my own,” Alice had said, ignoring the frown the comment produced.

Following aperitifs, first course arrived, a pan-seared
foie gras
with port-soaked cherries. Then it was a mixed greens salad with a champagne vinaigrette, topped with warm goat cheese and caramelized walnuts, followed by a Normandy corn bisque drizzled with truffle oil. The five of them made quick work of the first bottle of wine, a Sonoma Valley chardonnay with smooth, buttery undertones that Andy had chosen. Alice would have been enjoying the meal if not for the presence of Gil alongside her, prim as a schoolteacher, choosing his words and actions carefully tonight.

She sat, in clam-up mode, as Gil’s gaze wandered over the restaurant. Just over Alice’s shoulder he saw something that made his eyes widen. He said nothing at first. Only after the soup bowls had been cleared and Charlie, Andy and his associate had fallen into a discussion about sailing, did Gil lean toward Alice.

“So,” he said. “Hear from Niles yet?”

She allowed a tired sigh to escape before replying. “I think you know the answer to that. I’m not even sure he’s back from Asia yet.”

“Oh, I’m going to guess he is.”

“If so, I’m sure he’s busy with work. And the jet lag.”

“Not out wining and dining pretty girls.”

She frowned. “What on earth are you going on about?”

He made a little pivoting gesture with his fingers. Baffled, Alice looked around. There sat Niles, having dinner in the restaurant.

It was like seeing a nun in full habit seated in a biker bar. A naked man in the women’s dressing room. It was so very wrong.

Niles was here.

And not alone. Across from him sat a pretty young woman, a slightly older version of Lana, same creamy, unblemished skin and demure features, but with lighter hair and a bigger chest. A real knockout. Alice felt sick.

“Oh,” she said, willing herself to sound pleased. “That must be the family friend he said was planning to visit. I’ll just go say hi.”

Alice forced her numb legs into action, pushing the heavy chair back, rising and strolling over to their table. Niles looked up, stunned. Under different circumstances, she might have found his expression entertaining. He tried to rise from the table, but got caught between table and un-budging chair. He looked like a toddler in a high chair, flailing against his restraints.

Alice raised a hand. “No. Don’t get up. I just came by to say a quick hello. Before I go back to my men.” She congratulated herself on her light, flirtatious tone, one that told Niles she’d been having the time of her life since he’d been gone. Before he could speak, she thrust out her hand to the girl.

“Hi, I’m Alice, a friend of Niles.”

The girl was indeed like Lana, in her sweet, bumbling hesitation, the way it took her a moment to get out an eloquent sentence. Her name was Christine and she was a friend of Niles’ sister. She was in the area looking into graduate school programs, staying with Niles for a week.

Which meant she was sleeping under the same roof as Niles. This pretty girl. Alice maintained her mask of pleasant reserve as she next asked Niles about his trip, which he said was a success, but tiring. He reached out as he spoke to grasp Alice’s fingertips, resting on the edge of their table, but she snatched away her hand, startled, as if burned. He hesitated, but resumed his flow of conversation.

“Christine checked out UC Berkeley today. And University of San Francisco. Yesterday afternoon, when she arrived, it was Stanford.”

“How nice,” Alice said. “And did you like them?”

“Oh, yes,” Christine said. “This is a wonderful area. I just love it.”

Stanford, Berkeley. The girl was smart, too, as well as attractive. Great.