“I used to love to dance. I was really pretty good at it, too. I started with ballet when I was just a little girl… maybe four or five, then as I got older, I moved over to contemporary ballet. I loved it, feeling the rhythm of the music, telling a story as I danced, hearing the applause … but in the end, it just wasn’t in the cards for me to dance.”
“Why’s that?”
“I tried to get into Juilliard, but didn’t get asked back for the third audition. I just wasn’t good enough.”
“So what? What the hell do they know?”
“They know, Clutch. At first I was disappointed, but in the long run, it was the best thing that could’ve happened.”
“Bullshit. If you loved it, you should’ve kept at it,” I told her as I reached for the brown paper sack. I peeked inside and said, “Smells good.”
“Louise sent it. It was tonight’s special: a grilled chicken sandwich and some fries.”
Even though it was getting late, she continued to sit with me while I finished my sandwich. After I was done, we spent another hour talking about my draw to the club and her love of ballet—two completely different worlds, but with us, they seemed to fit. There were differences between me and Hazel, anyone could see them, but the fact was that neither of us seemed to care. We liked being together, and she was finally starting to open up to me. I was getting closer. Each time I was with her, I got another piece of the puzzle. It wouldn’t be long before I could piece it all together.
From the moment I’d laid eyes on him, I knew I was in trouble. I’d done my best to resist it from the very start, but nonetheless he’d gotten to me. I’d let my guard down when he was sick, and when I wasn’t paying attention, he’d started working his way into my heart. It started with our nightly chats. I’d stop by to see if he was feeling better, and we’d end up visiting for hours, laughing and talking about our day. Those little talks continued long after he’d recovered from the flu. I’d try to resist the temptation of going next door, but when I didn’t come over on my own, he’d just end up banging on the wall with some silly excuse to talk. Eventually our nightly rendezvous spilled over into daytime visits, and he’d even started to include Charlie and Hadley. It had become our little routine and I’d come to like it. A lot.
I’d just gotten home from work and barely had time to change into one of my favorite t-shirts and a pair of shorts when Clutch knocked on the door. He’d told me earlier that he was bringing dinner. When I opened the door, I was surprised to see that his hands were full of grocery bags. I took one of the sacks from his hands. “What’s all this?”
“I told you I was bringing dinner.”
“I thought you meant takeout.”
He followed me into the kitchen and placed the remaining bags on the counter as he smiled and said, “No fun in that. I figured we’d make some homemade pizzas. Let Cindy have her way with the toppings.”
“You’re a brave man. There’s no telling what she’ll put on it.”
He laughed and said, “I figured that, so I limited her options a bit.”
We had just started taking everything out of the bags when Charlie walked in and asked, “Do you know where my blue binder is?”
I looked around the kitchen and answered, “No. I haven’t seen it.”
“I’ll find it. I’m sure you-know-who did something with it.” He peeked over at all the groceries and asked, “We making pizzas for dinner?”
“Yeah. You want to help?” I asked.
“Maybe later. I’ve got to finish up some math homework first,” he told me as he walked towards the hall. Seconds later, I heard him fussing at Hadley about taking his binder, immediately followed by the sound of him slamming his bedroom door.
“Do they ever grow out of that?”
Clutch winked and said, “Sorry, darlin’. You’re stuck with it for another ten or twenty years.”
“I’ll never make it,” I giggled. I loved those little winks of his. They got to me every time.
“I don’t know about that. They’re good kids. You must be doing something right.”
“I can’t take the credit for that. They’ve always been great kids.”
Once we had everything laid out, Hadley came into the kitchen