of the fact that she gave it up when she had me, and it was the reason she and Dad pushed me into classes at such a young age. Something I’m grateful for and have always been. But for her the price was a different career.
“Mom,” I rasp, knowing she understands more than anyone, “I don’t want to give up dancing.”
She pulls me into her arms, gently rocking me. “Oh baby girl, we don’t always plan our paths. But we can choose how we ride them when they appear.” Pulling back to look at me, she explains, “Limitations don’t exist unless we let them.”
Does she have no memory of how competitive this field is? Does she not remember all of the times I refused to eat dessert and even left most of dinner on my plate so that I could remain my ideal weight and be lifted by any man cast opposite me? Has she not seen me with bloody feet from practicing more hours than other girls just to stay ahead?
Did I come here for nothing?
I step away from her, turn, and walk into the living room to gather my purse. At first I can’t find it. So many other things were on my mind and it’s an automatic action once I enter a place. Even one as unfamiliar as this.
My pacing confusion gives Mom a chance to think. “Whose do you want it to be, Marion? If you had to choose?”
I freeze, stunned, and turn to look at her, the name falling from my lips without question. “Jack’s.”
She nods as if she thought I’d say that.
I grab my bag from her coat hooks, and swing open her front door. Their front door. “I have to go.”
She cries after me a desperate, “Did I help?!”
I turn to see her in the door frame, hands gripping it. Without emotion I walk away to Jack’s Tesla that I borrowed without asking. “No, Mom, you didn’t.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
TROY
As soon as Marion returns home I’m off the couch. Her eyes flicker as they land on me, and she tosses Jack’s keys onto his side table by the front door.
“Where did you go?”
“I haven’t had the test yet if that’s what you’re asking.” Pulling her hair back to knot it, she changes her mind and shakes it out instead. “Did you think that I had?”
Shoving my hands into the back pockets of my jeans, I shrug, “I kind a hope that you had, yeah.”
“You wouldn’t have gone with me? Don’t you think I would’ve wanted you there? Don’t you think I want you here still?”
Walking to her I free my hands and say, “Hold on. Of course I want to go with you. But I know how you are, so it’s possible you’d go and do it without both of us.”
“Not this, Troy.”
“You didn’t give any explanation!”
She grabs my face. “Why does this have to be everything?”
I cover her hands with my own, drag them down and hold them. “I’m right here. I will go with you for the test. I want to be there.” She’s staring at me, seeing every possibility of how this could play out.
I know the feeling.
Tugging free, Mar walks to the kitchen, swings open the refrigerator, and sticks her head in. “I feel so hot.”
“You’re always hot.”
Her voice is muffled from inside the box. “Not the time for joking!”
Suddenly worried, I rush over. “Do you have a fever?”
“No,” Marion sighs, standing upright. “I’m just frustrated. And angry. Confused. And you are not helping! Do you understand how much this is changing my life?”
“It’s changing all of our lives.”
Shaking her head, she grabs orange juice from the fridge, closing the door and heading for a glass. I beat her to it and offer her an elegant wine glass since I know it’s really pissing her off that she can’t drink alcohol anymore. This will make it feel more like she’s not missing out on luxury.
A small smile of appreciation is my reward and honestly that’s enough. She hasn’t smiled at me for the three days we’ve been back. Guess I haven’t either, now that I think about it.
“What you are not seeing is that your career, and Jack’s business, is not at all impacted by this. Mine is, Troy. It’s not just my personal life that’s affected — it’s my entire existence and everything that I’ve worked for. Can you see the difference? And yet here you are, pressing me to find out who it belongs to so that I can