Throuple In Paradise - Faleena Hopkins Page 0,61
we were kids and you are the real dancer so you’re spearheading classes. Do you think I don’t know this? You don’t have to cover for her.”
Sam’s brown eyes narrow with loyalty. “I’m not covering for her. Lexi is a very good dancer, even though she gave it up a long time ago. She still teaches some of the classes and she’s very good.”
Touching my belly subconsciously, I shrug, “Not as good as you. Very few people are as good as you.” I meet Samantha‘s look with impatience. “Oh don’t be so shocked. I gave you a compliment; it’s not that big a deal.” Walking to the mirror I soften. “It is though, isn’t it?”
She walks over to look at the reflection with me. “Don’t recognize yourself, Marion?”
“Do you?”
Our eyes are on the stretched fabric around my middle. Samantha smiles, “I like your T-shirt. Life’s a bitch unless you’re a bigger one,” she reads. “This part I recognize.”
I laugh, “Yeah, I had to get a bigger size, but it was worth it. Do you remember that recital we did when we were kids with the horrible cowboy outfits?”
She registers the memory, smile dropping open before she covers her mouth. “They were awful! Lexi and I promised that when we have recitals we will not put our students in terrible costumes. That was the first rule we made.”
“It would probably surprise you then that our group photo in those cowboy outfits is the only picture I keep in my home from those years.”
“Really?” She squishes her nose.
Focusing on my taut stomach I confess, “If we were cowboys in the movies, I’d be wearing the black hat and you’d be in the white one. It’s always been like that. I think it’s why we haven’t really gotten along.” In the reflection Samantha and I look at each other. “When my little girl is old enough, I want her to take dance classes from you.”
Sam faces me and I turn away from the mirror to meet her look. “Oh my God! You’re having a little girl?!” She hugs me before I have a chance to answer. “That’s so amazing! Congratulations. I would love to teach her. But won’t you want to?”
Now it’s my turn for nose scrunching. “It’s too hard for little girls to learn dancing from their mothers, I think. I used to care too much what my mom thought. I felt mortally wounded if I wasn’t perfect. Because I thought she was! And I know me, I’ll keep standards too fucking high. I don’t want her hating me before she’s ten. Give her time for that.”
Sam smiles, “My mom can be a little critical. She and Lexi have always been a lot closer, because their personalities are so alike and Lexi can take it. But anyway, I hear what you’re saying is what I mean.”
Feeling like it’s time to go, I glance around. “Okay, this is a little too much for me. How ‘bout you?”
She laughs and follows me to the door. “I’m really glad you came by.”
I grab onto the jamb that leads to their waiting room, staring at the floor, embarrassed. “I’m scared, Sam. I’m not ready to hang up my shoes. I want this baby, but I don’t want to stop being me.”
Samantha whispers, “Oh,” realizing now why I came. She has always been my greatest competition because, like me, she has trained for an extraordinary amount of years with an extraordinary amount of passion toward an art that has an age limit. If anyone knows and understands my fear to their core, it’s Samantha.
I meet her eyes, and she says, “When I got the opportunity to travel the world, do you know why I turned it down? Because of family. You know how close to my family I am.” My hand drifts onto my belly. She glances down and smiles. “But I didn’t quit dancing here in Atlanta. And you don’t have to quit, either. Even if somehow this takes you away from ballet, there’s always contemporary dance, and musicals, and so many performances that require somebody with the skills that you have. And who knows? Maybe you and your two boyfriends will travel around with your daughter all over the world and she’ll be able to be exposed to different cultures as you wow audiences everywhere! You never know what will happen if you don’t quit. There’s always a way.”
I roll my eyes, holding back a grin. “Why do you have to be so fucking perfect?”