sweet girl,” he purrs. “You’ll figure that out soon enough if you just give her a chance.”
I glance over at my uncle, his injured arm dangling in a sling. It’s late. He’s tired, and I can see that even though the meds have taken the edge off, he’s still in pain.
“I’m sure she’s a sweet girl.” I say this to placate him if nothing else. She might be sweet as pie. She might also be a nutter.
We pull into the drive behind his place.
“You sure you want to do this with your summer?” he asks, nodding toward the studio.
“Without a doubt.” Nonc covered for me last summer with Mom. Maybe not for as long as his recovery will be, but I’d never leave him high and dry.
“You gonna be nice to her for the next two months?”
Shit. In all the fuss over his arm, the x-rays and the consult, and talking over the immediate plan for the studio, I hadn’t acknowledged the fact that I’d be covering her private lessons.
“Of course, I’ll be nice. I’m nice to all my students.”
Nonc raises a brow. “I don’t think your kids at Northside would ever call you nice.”
He’s right. At my school nice is a terminal illness. But I’m fair, and I’m a professional, and that’s the way I’ll treat Iris Adams—even if she has to bring a whole team with her or she looks at me like I have leprosy.
“Your Hollywood star won’t have anything to complain about.”
“Good.” Nonc’s eyes turn earnest. “Because the only thing she’s complained about so far is her inability to dance.”
I frown. “It’s that bad?”
Suppressed laughter squeezes from his throat. He shakes his head. “I’ve taught stroke victims who had more rhythm. You’ll earn every penny of what she’s paying you.”
This notion hits me sideways. I don’t want her to pay me.
“I think you should keep it,” I say. We’ve already discussed this for his regular classes. He’s insisted on giving me a cut, but he needs to take the lion’s share to keep the studio open and cover his expenses. He can have it all as far as I’m concerned. I’m on a twelve-month pay schedule through the parish. I can cover his classes for free, but he won’t have that.
A gust of air whistles from his nose. “Not with that one.” His brows climb halfway up his forehead. “You set your mind on something you want. Somewhere maybe you wanna go in late July, and every time you’re ready to pull your hair out because she starts on the wrong foot or toe-heels instead of heel-toes, you picture that destination.”
I blink. “So you’re not exaggerating.”
He gives a slow shake of his head.
I should feel dread. I should feel irritated. But I don’t. Instead, I sort of feel sorry for her.
“And she has to be ready for a dance segment for a movie?”
He switches to a slow nod.
“Damn.”
“Yep. And just wait until you meet that manager of hers.”
I give my last two finals on Wednesday and bring them with me to Camellia Court. I tell Mom about Uncle David’s arm—and the surgery he’s scheduled to have Friday morning—even though I doubt she’ll remember. She’s upset and worries over him for a few minutes, but then she asks me about Rebecca and is surprised and saddened to hear—again—that we broke up.
After we eat lunch and take our usual walk, I grade one set of exams while Mom watches West Side Story. It doesn’t make sense for me to go all the way back to the tiny house in St. Martinville when I’ll have to return to the studio for ballroom lessons at four and Iris’s session at six, so when Mom lies down for her afternoon nap, I head straight to the studio.
I find Nonc at his kitchen table, looking about as cheerful as a grizzly bear. He grunts when he sees me.
I nod toward his arm. “How’s it feeling?”
“About like a broken bone.”
I scan the kitchen. Coffee’s on the warmer and the smell of it is like a sacred promise. Nonc’s nursing a cup and scowling at the entrails of the newspaper. Other than the coffee cup, there’s no sign of a dirty dish in the sink.
My uncle is tidy, but he’s not that tidy.
It’s just after two o’clock. “Had lunch?”
He grunts again, and I know this one means no. Nonc is left-handed, and the break is on his left side.
Damn. I should have thought of that last night. The old guy might need a little