Page 9 of On Dancer
“Did you forget tonight is the fundraiser for the art club at the pizza place? You’re supposed to take Victoria and me since we’re her ride home tonight. We need to pick up David and Marcus on the way.”
“Perhaps we can be done for tonight?” Making a soothing sound, Irina stepped between Tavio and Kitty. Tavio might be the director forThe Nutcracker, but Irina was every bit as involved. “Kitty can tell us how the costuming is coming over dinner.”
Unlike her famous parents, Kitty’s passion in life was fashion design, not dance. She specifically loved costuming, and in previous meetings, she’d sized me up, muttering about tunic colors and alterations.
“Yes, I suppose we’ve done enough for tonight.” Tavio glanced at his watch. We were indeed over on time, but Tavio was determined to maximize Victoria’s limited availability. Sighing, he put an arm around his much shorter wife. “However, I told Margie we’d lock up. Alexander still needs to stretch and ice.”
I was about to protest that I could simply leave and tend to my routine at home, but Rudy chose that moment to poke his head in the doorway.
“I’ll lock up.” Today’s bulky sweater was an alarming shade of yellow, and while serviceable, it looked older than Tavio. The week had turned chilly, and Rudy had paired the sweater with aknit cap in an equally appalling shade of puce. “You can all go on.”
“Oh, Rudy.” Irina greeted him with a hug. “Thank goodness you’re still here.”
“We had a meeting for the parent boosters for the younger classes, along with the costume committee.” Rudy gestured toward Kitty. “Kitty was full of great ideas as always.”
“She is kind of brilliant.” Victoria gave a weary shake of her head as she pulled a sweater of her own over her practice clothes.
“Thank you,” Kitty said archly as she tugged Victoria toward the hallway. “Now, get your shoes changed quickly. I’m starving!”
“Yes, boss.” Victoria offered a mock salute on her way out of the room.
“We better get going as well,” Irina said to Rudy and me. “If you’re sure you can manage?”
“I’ve only been doing this for months now.” Rudy’s indignant tone was not unlike Kitty’s a few moments earlier. “And it’s not like I have a strenuous commute ahead of me.”
“True.” Irina paused to pat his cheek before saying to me, “Rudy’s renting one of the third-floor units upstairs.”
“That’s convenient.” I took a sip from my water bottle. Like most of downtown Hollyberry, this building had been designed for business on the bottom floors and apartments above, but I couldn’t say as I’d ever given much thought to who actually lived here.
“Yep.” Rudy shrugged. “Benefits of nepotism, but it beats living at home.”
“Tell me about it.” I shot him a commiserating look. He might be far younger than me, but I knew his plight only too well. “I moved from the guest room into the pool house, but it’s not quite far enough.”
“But your mother is so thrilled that you’re home.” Irina poked her head back into the room to add. “She’s been chattering about the Thanksgiving menu for weeks.”
“Mother.” Kitty strong-armed both her parents toward the main doors.
“Oops. The girls are ready.” Irina gave us a little wave.
Rudy trailed after them long enough to turn the deadbolt on the big, heavy front doors before returning to the studio, where I was going through my ever-lengthening stretching routine.
“I’m definitely getting old.” Seated with my legs in front of me, I bent my head forward. “When did Tavio and Irina become parents? And now the kids are almost all older than I was when I met them.”
“You’re not that old.” Rudy protested, but I wasn’t going to take the word of someone who’d likely get carded buying beer for the next twenty years.
“I’m thirty-four. Both in my prime and ancient.” I spread my legs into a deeper stretch for my inner thighs and knees. “The clock is ticking louder than I’d like.”
“You have plenty of good dancing years left.” Rudy watched me, eyes wide behind his glasses frames, like my stretching was as fascinating as my most complicated variation. But when our gazes met, he blushed yet again and quickly looked away. “However, speaking of your elderly bones, are your ice packs in the staff freezer? I’ll go fetch them.”
That he knew my routine was both sweet and slightly disconcerting. “I can ice at home.”
“Isn’t the whole point to do it before you drive twenty minutes? I’m fine waiting before I go upstairs.”
“If you’re sure it’s no bother.” I’d be less stiff tomorrow if I went ahead and iced here and finished my stretching. Each component of my new routine was essential to keeping my surgically repaired knee in top condition.
“I’m sure.” Rudy scurried out of the studio, returning a few moments later as I was stretching my calves. He carried the flexible ice packs emblazoned with the logo for Isabella’s orthopedic practice that I used for my knee, along with a rectangular box with some sort of cartoon motif and two pillows under his arm.
“Here you go.” He passed me the ice packs before holding up the box. “And I brought something to distract you while you ice.”
