Tony had always been quite content with the cards life had dealt him. Will had been the dissatisfied one.
By contrast, Tony had always worked at the plastics factory and had never pursued another career path. He’d started a family at eighteen and was happy with the small apartment he lived in with his wife and three sons. Will knew this because once he’d begun making money, he’d offered to move them into a big house, or upgrade their ten-year-old car, and all of these offers had been firmly refused. Christmases and birthdays were the only occasions Will was allowed to spend money on them, and even then, extravagant gifts were returned.
“Everything’s fine here.” Will heard cheering in the background. “What’s going on over there?”
“Oh, you know how we do. The boys are watching basketball. Frieda’s making hot wings.”
“I love Frieda’s wings,” Will said in an unmistakable plea for an invitation.
“Then come on over, man. You know you’re always welcome here.”
Will started to accept his brother’s offer, but Tony continued, “It’s funny, when you moved to the other side of the tracks, I was worried we wouldn’t see you much. But, you’ve been back in the ’hood almost every day. Basketball at the rec center, pizza night at Shucky’s Bar, you even showed up for dominoes at Little Harold’s two nights ago.”
Will laughed sheepishly. “What are you trying to say? Are you getting tired of me?”
“Nah, bro, nothing like that. I’m just wondering why you worked so hard to get out of the ’hood, just so you could come back and hang here every other night. What’s the matter? Park Avenue ain’t all it’s cracked up to be?”
“Of course it is,” Will answered quickly. “It’s great. Everything’s great. Really great.” Stop saying great, you idiot!
“Good. Don’t forget I’m an old married man. I have to live through you. You’re supposed to be dating some model chick and going to bougie parties where they serve snails and crap like that.”
“Yeah, yeah, all that’s on the agenda. I’ve just been…working a lot. I still teach dance two nights a week.”
“You can’t work all the time. What about dating? Meet any hot girls lately?”
“Hot girls?” A tattooed girl with combat boots and a waist-length braid flashed in his brain. “Oh yeah, they’re everywhere.”
“Ahhh, yeah! Talk to me.”
“Actually, that’s why I was calling. I wanted you and the kids to know you wouldn’t be seeing me as much in the next few weeks. Between work, the dance studio and my impending social life, my schedule’s starting to look pretty tight.”
“Glad to hear it, man. The boys will miss seeing you around, but we’d all rather you had a life. I was starting to wonder if you were afraid to live in that crystal palace you worked so hard to get into.”
Will felt heat wash down his neck as the truth of Tony’s words hit home. “Wow, you suddenly getting deep on me, bro?”
“Hey, I gotta make sure you’re all right. Park Avenue’s a different world. All your peeps are still in Brooklyn.”
“You have nothing to worry about. Everything is fine.”
“Cool. Then the only other explanation is that you still haven’t figured out how to work that talking stove of yours.”
Will laughed hard into the phone, then paused. “How did you know?”
“All right, man, jump in the car and get over here before Frieda’s wings get cold.”
Melody waited in the corner of the dance studio as other couples began to arrive. As the trendy men and women around her chatted amongst themselves or practiced last week’s lesson, Mel chided herself for coming back to class.
She didn’t fit in here. Normally, that was a good thing. But today Mel felt dopey for showing up to class fifteen minutes early. It was silly to have sweaty palms and a stomach doing somersaults. And she felt extra foolish for wearing her black pleated mini skirt to impress the teacher.
She glanced down at the chunky sports watch on her wrist as she eyed the door. Three minutes to go. Maybe she could still—
“Good evening, class.” Will Coleman walked into the room, eliminating all hope of a quick escape. “I’m glad to see some of you practicing.”
Melody swallowed hard, hating the sudden giddiness she felt at the sight of him. He wore tan slacks with a fitted knit shirt that showed off his muscular build. His leather belt matched his brown loafers perfectly. He looked neat. Conservative. Delicious.
She blinked. What was getting into her? Since when was conservative delicious?
Feeling a tiny bit self-conscious, Mel glanced at her mirrored image on the opposite wall. He’d told them to wear leather-soled shoes. The only pair she owned were her black studded cowboy boots. With those she wore opaque gray tights and her mini skirt with black-and-white suspenders hanging free at her waist. On top she wore a black baby-T sporting the word Brat in angry white letters. To complete the look, she’d positioned two ponytails at the back of her head and then bound them together with randomly-spaced rubber bands in a variety of colors.
This was as dressed-up as she got. So he’d damn well better appreciate it.
Will caught her eye and gave her a warm smile. Her knees went weak. And weakness made Melody bitter. She lifted her chin, finding composure in defiance.
“Okay, class, let’s line up. Followers on the right. Leaders on the left.”
Melody got in line. The numbers were still uneven. Will would have to be her partner again. Her heart began to race.
“Now that you all know the basic steps, I want you to get a feel for dancing with different partners. Start with the person directly across from you, and after a few minutes, we’ll rotate.”
Melody’s heart sank. She was anxious to show Will how much she’d improved. At least she’d get to dance with the teacher first, she thought as he approached her.
“Melody, do you mind practicing on your own for this round? I need to be mobile to monitor everyone’s progress,” he said quietly to her, and then more loudly, “Class, each follower will have to dance one round on their own. But don’t worry, we’ll keep rotating so everyone will have a partner most of the time.”
It was all Mel could do not to groan out loud. Why on earth had she come back? Trying not to embarrass herself, Melody dutifully ran through the steps on her own and was feeling pretty confident when it was time to rotate.
An older man with silver hair and a friendly smile walked up to her. He extended his hand. “Hi, my name is George.”
“I’m Mel, um, Melody.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Melody.” George took her into his arms. The music started and he glided with her around the floor with expertise.
“Are you sure you need lessons?” she asked her partner.
