Forever Right Now

One heartbeat. Two.

I looked through a few tendrils of hair that had come loose from my ponytail. Greg and Paula were staring at me, then bent their heads to confer. A bead of sweat slipped down my temple, and I realized the twisting feeling in my stomach was gone. My pulse pounded from the dance, not nerves, and I suddenly didn’t care if they wanted me or not.

But they did.

“You have…” Greg exchanged a look with Paula, “quite a lot of natural talent.”

“Pure, raw talent,” Paula said, nodding.

“Thank you,” I said, breathlessly. “Thanks so much for saying so.”

Somehow, I wasn’t crying.

“Have you, auditioned anywhere else?” Greg asked slowly.

“I just moved here last week,” I said. “I saw your flyer and took a shot.”

They exchanged knowing looks again, laced with relief.

“Opening night is closing in,” Paula said “We’d prefer not to have to recast so late in the game. We need full commitment to rehearsal, which is every night, six to nine p.m. and some afternoons on the weekend.”

I bobbed my head. “Of course, absolutely. But I’ll have to cut out early Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. There’s a place I have to be at nine. But it’s not far from here. Fifteen minutes?”

“I suppose,” Greg said. “If it can’t be avoided.”

“It can’t,” I said.

“Fine,” he said. “There’s no pa

y,” he added stiffly. “This is a labor of love. An independent piece of art, not a commercialized package of glitz and sequins.”

“It’s raw,” Paula said. I guessed she must like using that word. “Stripped down and real. No pretense.”

“Sounds great, really,” I said. “Perfect.”

“Good,” Greg said, offering his hand. “Welcome to the show, Darlene.”

Outside on the street, I sucked in air. “Holy shit.”

It had been almost four years since I’d danced in front of an audience. Four years. I tried to tell myself it wasn’t a big deal; Iris and Ivy was a far cry from a big dance company. But it was a huge fucking deal. I’d begun to wonder if the dancer version of myself was gone forever, still locked up behind bars even after the drug-addict had been released.

But it’s still there. Me. I’m still here.

I dug my phone out of my purse and stared at it, my thumb hovering over the contacts. I called up my parents at their house in Queens. The answering machine picked up but I didn’t leave a message. I needed voices. A live person. I scrolled down to my sister.

She picked up on the sixth ring, sounding harried and distracted with just one, “Hello?”

“Hey, Carla, it’s Dar.”

“Oh hey, hon. How are you? How’s Frisco treating you?”

“It’s going great here. In fact, I have the best news—”

“Are you keeping your nose clean? Staying out of trouble?”

I winced. “Yes. I’m doing really great, actually. I auditioned for a dance company—a little one—and you’ll never believe it, but they hired me. There’s going to be a show in a few weeks—”

Carla’s voice became muffled. “Sammy! Sammy, get off the couch!” She turned her mouth back to the phone. “That dumb dog, I swear…” Her breath hissed a sigh. “Sorry, what? A show? Good for you. Are they paying you?”