Page 17 of Grateful in Watch Hill
“Let me know how it goes with Nancy.” He zipped up his jacket. The moment was over. We were friends, and that was all. “I’m sure it will be great.”
“I hope so,” I replied.
Then I got in the car and drove back to reality.
SEVEN
KENDRA
The night before themeeting with Nancy, I barely slept.
I tried on six different outfits and five different hairstyles. I did a makeup run-through and practiced answering interview questions. I fought back the urge to throw up. This was a big moment and had the potential to be the opportunity to get out of what had become a quagmire of despair. I didn’t want to mess up any of it.
I got up early, did a round of yoga, and tried to steel my nerves before getting dressed for the interview—meeting—that might change the trajectory of my life. Our lives. I kissed my dad goodbye and made vague generalizations about where I was going. I fought the urge to tell him the truth, because if things didn’t work out, he’d only be more disappointed.
I arrived at Nancy’s practice facility fifteen minutes early and parked near the entrance. After turning off the car engine, I said a prayer. As horrible as it sounded, I also prayed that Nancy hadn’t called other out-of-work dancers that I’d have to compete against for the role.Does that make me mean-hearted?
I needed this. We needed this.
Moments later, Nancy’s assistant showed me into the large rehearsal space that made up the main part of the building. He asked me if I wanted water, and I declined.
“So kind of you to spend part of your afternoon with me, Kendra.”
Nancy stood from her seat in the small viewing area off to the side of the performance space. From her part of the room, she’d have a view of whatever the dance company wanted to show her. She didn’t introduce herself; she didn’t have to. She was a legend in our region, and I had no doubt that she knew it.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Nancy. Thank you for inviting me.”
“Is this your first time coming to the facility, Kendra?”
“Not my first.” I winced at the memory of an audition I did for her studio a few years earlier, when I was young, hungry, and desperate to please her. I hadn’t made it past the first round. In a way, it felt strange to be back in the same place, but this time in a more hopeful position. “But it has been a few years since I’ve been here.”
“I know the rehearsal hall needs an update.”
Nancy stopped a few feet away from me. She wore a white chunk-knit cardigan, a pale pink leotard, black leggings, and black ballet flats. She might have been close to sixty, but she still had a body as fit as a twenty-five-year-old.
“Once we get the company back on track and we’re performing again, I’m hopeful we can raise some angel investment to help us get a new floor and some other amenities.”
