Page 44 of Not Our First Rodeo
Her parents don’t need to know about the pregnancy anyway. They can get a cute selfie of the three of us from the hospital and connect the dots.
But before I can reach for Elsie’s hand, she clears her throat, and her parents’ eyes swivel to her. They’ve been deep in conversation about some charity event they have to attend this weekend, and they both look surprised by Elsie’s random interruption.
I watch as Elsie tucks her hands beneath the table, and I wonder if it’s to hide their shaking. “Beau and I have something we’d like to tell you.”
Diana’s eyes widen, and she clasps her hands beneath her chin, smiling widely, her bright white teeth on display. “Did you get your spot back at the ballet? I’ve been making calls for months. Oh, Elsie, I’m so happy.”
Elsie’s face falls, and I watch the shutters slide over her eyes. I see that response now for what it is—shutting herself off, protecting herself. I don’t know how I never noticed it before. “No, Mom, I’m not going back to Utah.”
Diana looks between the two of us, confusion written on her features. I ignore her, though, and focus on Elsie. She seems to be caving in on herself, her eyes trained on her lap.
“What, then?”
I keep watching Elsie, and so I see the way she seems to swallow back her indecision. The way her shoulders straighten and her jaw tightens. It’s something to behold, really, the way she builds herself up, strengthens her resolve. I used to see herdo this when she was rehearsing a particularly difficult move, on nights when I would come to the studio after I got off work, when everyone else had long since gone home and she was practicing alone until she got it right.
“I’m pregnant.”
The statement hangs in the air, like the four of us are collectively holding our breath. James breaks it first, his chair sliding against the marble floor as he pushes to standing.
“Congrats, you two,” he says, and moves to wrap Elsie in a hug. She sinks into it, and I finally let out the breath I was holding. My gaze turns to Diana, who is still sitting at her end of the table, watching her husband and daughter. Lead sinks in my stomach at the look on her face.
She isn’t happy.
And I want to pull her out of this room before she tells Elsie that.
Elsie steps back from her father’s embrace and turns to face her mother. I watch the moment she registers her mom’s expression, the way her own falls.
“You’re not happy for me,” she says, staring at Diana.
A muscle in Diana’s jaw ticks. “You’re never going to go back to ballet now” is all she says.
Elsie sighs, sitting back down in her seat. James stays behind her, hand on the back of her chair. “I was never going to go back, Mom. I can’t perform at the same level after my injury. I can’t practice like I used to without risking further injury.”
“You were at the height of your career,” Diana says, voice rising, some mixture of pain and frustration on her face. “You could get back to where you were. We didn’t put in this much work for you to quit at twenty-seven.”
“Well, I did,” Elsie snaps, surprising every single one of us, including her. “I quit, and I started teaching, and I’ve come to love it. I’m not going back.”
“So you’re just going to live in this town and teach and have babies? That’s what you’re going to do with your life?” Diana asks, and none of us can miss the derisive way she says it, the disappointment lacing every word.
“It was good enough for you,” Elsie responds, her voice still carrying an edge, and I feel the breath catch in my lungs at the sound of it.
Her mom’s jaw tightens. “I danced until I was in my thirties. I lived a full life before I decided to have you. If it makes me the bad person for wanting you to get to have that, too, then fine. I’ll be the villain here.”
Silence follows her statement, heavy and painful, and I feel the words sinking into each one of us.
“Well, that’s not how it worked out for me,” Elsie says quietly, the sound of her voice echoing in the vast space. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy about it.”
I wonder if that’s true, if she really is happy. She hasn’t been for so long, but I want it for her more than anything. I’d do anything to make it happen, and for the first time, I realize maybe that’s what her mom has been doing. Maybe she’s been working for her daughter’s happiness Elsie’s whole life, doing it in the best way she knew how. I just don’t think she knows what will make her daughter happy, if she’s ever taken the time to find out.
“I hope that’s true,” Diana says, and for the first time, I agree with her.
Istareatmyselfin the mirror, looking at the tiniest bump in the world protruding from my belly. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about my body changing during pregnancy. I’ve still avoided looking at the scale during my doctor’s appointments and I’ve tried to ignore the way my small boobs have grown too big for all my bras and my once pleasantly round ass has seemed to flatten. I know it’s supposed to be magical and women should feel lucky to grow another human, but as someone who grew up in a very toxic, body-shaming environment, I thought I might hate it.
But staring at that little bump in the mirror makes my throat close up, emotion I wasn’t expecting clogging it. I didn’t know it would feel likethis. That I would look at that tiny bump and realize I’ve made itthis far.I never got to see a bump with my last pregnancy, but right now, my baby is growing enough to show on my body, and I think that’s the coolest thing in the entire world.
I smooth my hand over it again, my heart a riot in my chest, and yell for Beau. A moment later, he comes barreling intomy bedroom, his face creased with concern, his eyes wandering everywhere, checking me for injury.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. He stops when he sees me standing in front of the mirror, my leotard tight over my stomach, my hand pressed to the barely there bump. He’s wearing his signature Wranglers, the ones that hug him in all the right places, and he must have just gotten out of the shower, because a lock of damp hair falls over his forehead, making him look even more disheveled.
