"My mother and father were embarrassed and went straight home," she said, her voice steely.
I didn't think it was possible to feel any smaller than I was, but I wished I could just sink into the crevices between the seats and disappear. As soon as we arrived home, I ran upstairs to my room and shut the door. A short while later, I heard a soft knock. "Come in," I called out.
Sanford entered and smiled at me. I was sitting on the bed. I had cried all the tears I had stored for sad occasions. My eyes ached.
"Now I don't want you feeling so terrible," he said kindly. "You'll have many more chances to do better."
"I'll make other mistake for sure," I said. "I'm not as good as Celine thinks I am."
"Don't underestimate yourself after just one recital, Janet. Everyone, even the greatest dancers, makes mistakes." He put his hand on my shoulder, then rubbed it along my tight, aching neck.
"She hates me now," I mumbled.
"Oh no," he said. "She's just very determined. She'll relax and realize it's not the end of the world, too. You'll see," he promised. He brushed back my hair. "You were definitely the cutest dancer out there. I'm sure most people thought you were the best one on stage," he encouraged.
"They did?"
"Sure. All eyes were on you."
"Which made it worse for me," I pointed out. He laughed.
"Now, don't you think about it anymore. Think about happy things. Isn't your real birthday next Saturday?"
"Yes, but Celine wanted to change it to the day you adopted me," I reminded him.
"That was just Celine's silly wish. Why don't you and I plan your birthday party," he said. "I know you haven't had a chance to make new friends, but maybe you'll be able to at your party. Think of some children you'd like to invite. We'll have a good time," he promised.
"Will my grandparents come?" I asked.
His smile stiffened.
"I imagine so," he said. "Now, go on. Change and we'll all have dinner?'
"Celine's really not mad at me?" I asked hopefully.
"No. Celine's had a very big disappointment in her life. It's hard for her to have any more. That's all. She'll be fine. We'll all be fine," he said.
r /> It was meant to be a promise, but it came out more like a prayer, and most of my life, my prayers had never been answered.
Ten
Madame Malisorf refused to add another day to my weekly ballet lessons. Celine and she had the conversation three days later--the very first lesson after the recital.
"No," Madame Malisorf said. "It was partly my mistake to have rushed her along. I should never have agreed to put her on pointe. I should have listened to my own instincts. Janet has to find her own level of competence, her own capabilities. Talent is like water. If you remove the obstructions, it will rise to its highest possible level by itself."
"That's not true, Madame Malisorf," Celine declared. "We must set her limits. We must determine her capabilities. She won't strive if we don't push her. She doesn't have the inner discipline."
Madame Malisorf gazed at me warming up alongside Dimitri, who had said nothing yet about my performance at the recital.
"You must be careful. You could make her lose interest and affection for the beauty and the skills, Celine. If you overtrain an athlete, he or she starts to regress, lose muscle, skill."
"We'll take that chance. Double her training time. Money is no object," Celine insisted. "Money has never been nor will it ever be a consideration for me," Madame Malisorf snapped back at her, holding her shoulders and head proudly.
Celine seemed to wilt in the chair.
"I know that, Madame, I just meant--" "If I am to be the girl's teacher, Celine, I am to
be in control. I will determine the schedule of lessons. More is not always better. What's better is to get more quality out of what you already have. If you think otherwise--"