“If I dance, there won’t be a sequel. You know this.” After I say this, Sally closes the distance between us, standing by my side. It’s nice to have her here, even if she can’t do more than this. Just stand beside me as I’m bulldozed.
Moira inspects her manicure before waving her long nails at me. “I talked to the choreographer. The first one’s not so terrible. Even you can learn it. The ensemble has the most challenging parts.”
“The first one?” Panic rises. I grab Sally’s hand. She squeezes back. “There’s more than one?”
“Just two. The first one is a Cajun two-foot or two-feet thing, and the second one is a Cajun—” Moira wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. “Jug?”
“Jig?” Ramon offers, arching a haughty brow.
Moira gasps. “You know how to do it?”
My PA looks at her like she’s crazy. “No, but I’ve at least heard of it.”
Moira’s eyes become slits. “Well, that’s helpful,” she sneers. “Good thing I’ve hired a local dance instructor to work with her off-set.”
“It won’t help,” I mutter, sliding back into memories of Saturday mornings spent in barre class humiliation. “Maybe we could convince the studio to hire a double and splice in a few staged shots of me.”
“No.” Her expression and her tone are set in iron. “You’re getting private lessons four nights a week. Just you and this old Cajun man who sounds like he’s from that show Swamp People. I think he said his last name was Bear.” She ends smiling, looking so pleased with herself.
I groan. Ramon looks frightened. GIFs from Swamp People made up a significant portion of the alligator jokes prior to our arrival. I picture the sweaty, balding, pot-bellied men in their sleeveless camo shirts and shudder.
I do not want to dance with a swamp person.
I don’t want to dance with anyone. Because I’m terrible. Terrible. Music plays, and I seem to bend at every joint. Knees and elbows going every which way. And I’m supposed to start off from my right, but I start on the left, realize it’s supposed to be the right and then move right when I’m supposed to move left.
Every. Time.
I trip myself, and I trip other people.
For a moment, I contemplate pulling out of the cast. Sure, my career would be over, but I can survive on the AT. With Ramon’s help overseeing my finances, I could make my savings last for years if I just lived off trail mix and dried soup packets. I’d probably need to replace my hiking boots a couple times a year and get a new tent every now and then, but if I just kept hiking from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Katahdin in Maine and back again, I could live cheap.
I’d bring my dog Mica with me for company and protection. Sure, that would mean I’d have to carry dog food too, but maybe he’d get good at squirrel and rabbit hunting.
I’d watch the birds migrate. I’d track the leaf change. I’d own nothing but what could fit in my pack. No rent. No car note. No waxing appointments. I’d just let everything grow. Everywhere. I’d wind up looking—
Oh God. I’d wind up looking like a Swamp People woman.
I turn to Sally and say with urgency, “I don’t want to look like a Swamp People woman.” My voice is high and piano-wire tight.
Sally’s eyes go wide. “No, honey. Of course not. Want me to come with you?”
At first I think she means on the AT. I’d take the company and the better odds against bears and sex offenders, but, let’s face it, we wouldn’t be waxing each other’s legs, pits, and bits in the woods, so we’d both end up looking like Swamp People women before too long.
But then Ramon grabs each of our free hands, closing our little circle. “We’ll both come with you.” He gives my hand a squeeze. “You’ll dance with Mr. Bear, and we’ll dance with each other, and we’ll make sure he doesn’t claim you for his swamp bride.” He finishes by locking eyes with Sally, and they smile at each other like they’re the only ones in this stinking trailer.
Chapter Four
BEAU
“What are you up to?” Nonc’s voice rasps over the phone.
“The usual,” I say, pushing myself away from my dining table/office space and standing to stretch. I reach my free hand toward the ceiling of my tiny house, grateful that the only place I can actually touch it is from the sleeping loft. “Grading.”