Page 89 of Entirely Yours
We arrive at the park, and it’s a whirlwind of tiny dancers asking where they are supposed to be. Chloe tugs on my shirt, pointing at all of the different vendors and games they have set up at the festival. “Can I go look, Mama?” she asks.
“Let’s get through the performance, and then I promise we can walk around, okay?”
She nods in agreement, though her little eyes continue to wander over to the booth with giant stuffed animals displayed in every available nook.
We continue over to the stage area, with Chloe lagging behind. I can tell she’s pouting about not being able to explore, but we don’t have time. I have a few parents helping out, and Dad is able to pass out the light blue ribbons we got for all of the girls. Everyone was instructed to wear a black leotard, black ballet skirt, and pink tights. It’s simple, and next year maybe we can come up with little costumes, but seeing everyone together might just make me cry tears of joy.
I did it. I fucking did it. I opened my own studio, dancers showed up, and now we are performing for an actual audience.
So what if the audience is ninety-five percent parents, grandparents, and siblings, and five percent random townspeople that happened to be at the festival today and stopped to watch the show.
It’s a flurry of making sure the dancers are sitting in the right order, the music is working, and all students are accounted for. I don’t even realize Jules isn’t there until Elaine finds me.
She kisses me on both cheeks. “How’s my cabbage? I’m excited for you!”
“Oh, I’m fine,” I lie. “Ready to go on in…” I look at my watch, realizing we only have five minutes. “Soon. Is Jules with you?”
Her brows furrow. “No, dear. I assumed he’d come with you. Do you want me to call him?”
He’s not here?I’m in such shock that all I can do is nod. If I think about it too much, I will cry, and today is not about him. It’s about me. This studio. I won’t let another stupid man take up unnecessary space in my mind.
Elaine gives my arms a squeeze, turning to mutter something to Hugo who has joined us. “I-I’ve got to go,” I say. “Thank you for being here.”
I wander back over to the stage, spiraling quickly. The first group is lined up—ten girls who have been taking intermediate ballet—and the older gentleman who has been helping with sound hands me a microphone.
“What’s this for?”
He gives me a look that saysWhat do you think?but is polite enough to say, “Thought you might want to introduce yourself and your group.”
Right, right. That’s probably a good idea.
My feet feel like they’re moving through syrup as I take each of the three steps up onto the stage. Public speaking has never really been my forte, hence the dancing which can be done without a single word.
Turning to the crowd, my mouth immediately dries up. There are a lot more people here than I thought. “Uhm, hi!” I squeak. “My name is Thea, and I’m the owner of Whirlwind Dance Studio. We opened up at the beginning of the summer, and these kids have amazed me with their talent.”
I take a deep breath before continuing. “I wanted to create a space to foster a love of dance for people of all ages. Fall registration will open soon, but for now enjoy this performance from each of our current classes. Okay, I think that’s everything… I’m not used to doing the talking,” I joke, garnering a few pity laughs. “Enjoy the show!”
The intermediate class files onto the makeshift stage as I file off. The music starts and my anxiety eases a fraction. The firstdance is perfect—everyone remembers the steps, thank God, and their beaming smiles tell me they are having fun, too. Next up is the beginner elementary class, which will be followed by the pre-school group.
I’m watching the beginners when I feel a tap on my shoulder. “Miss Thea?” One of the moms who was helping with the pre-school class stands behind me, her eyes wide.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, assuming one of the students needs to go potty right before they’re supposed to go on.
“It’s Chloe,” she says, and my entire body goes rigid. “We can’t find her.”
Without responding, my body immediately jumps into action. I start looking under chairs, scanning the groups of dancers, and circle the gazebo to make sure she didn’t find a patch of clovers or something to lure her away—there’s no way she’s gone far. Adrenaline is the only thing keeping me from screaming right now, my heart in my throat makes me feel like I’m going to choke.Fuck, fuck, fuckis on repeat in my head, so loud I only barely register the last dance finishing.
“Thea!” I know that voice. I stand up to see Jules pushing his way toward me. “I’m so sor?—”
“Later,” I say, hearing all of the emotions I’ve been bottling up coming out in that single word. “I can’t find Chloe.”
His face goes white with a muttered, “Shit.” He begins looking in all of the places I’ve already checked, just as frantic as I am. When he quickly comes up emptyhanded, I think I might actually throw up. He wraps his hands around my forearms, looking me dead in the eye. “She’s here, let me just—” Jules hops up onto the gazebo stage now that the beginner ballet dance has finished. He takes the mic from the polite older man, turning it on so everyone can hear him.
“Hello, everyone. Sorry to interrupt this wonderful performance. We are missing a dancer and would really appreciate your help finding her. She’s about this tall”—heindicates down by his thigh—“bright blonde hair, and goes by Chloe.”
The entire crowd springs up to help—it’s mostly parents, so I know they understand the visceral fear I’m feeling.
The festival is surrounded by chained fencing so there is only one way in and out, but the park is large and there are several different attractions set up for her to wander off to. Hugo grasps my arm, letting me know he’s going to stand by the exit and make sure she doesn’t walk out. I hadn’t even thought of that, and my anxiety level is now off the charts.
