In The Unlikely Event Part 23

"Grinding can damage your teeth."

Damage?

"We carry anxiety in different ways."

Anxiety?

"Tell you what. We'll recheck in a month to see how you're doing. Okay with you, Miss Mirabelle?"

"Okay."

"Good." He smiled at her. "How come I haven't seen you around our house lately?"

"I was there on the day of...on the day of..."

"Yes, I know." He paused. "Well, I don't want to spoil Natalie's surprise. She'll want to tell you herself. She's in New York today, at dance cla.s.s."

"But I'll see her tonight at bowling."

"Since when does Nat bowl?"

"She's our scorekeeper." Natalie couldn't take the chance of dropping a ball, or having someone else drop a ball on her foot.

"Ah, the scorekeeper," Dr. O said.

- AT THE BOWLING ALLEY that night, Mason was tender, making sure her shoes fit, squeezing to check for enough toe room, just like Mrs. Kolber, choosing exactly the right bowling ball for her weight. She'd always been hopeless at bowling but now, with a few pointers from Mason, she was improving. Robo was the best in their group, gliding to the line, right foot behind her left, with a follow-through every time. Miri was paying attention to Robo's form, keeping a picture of Robo in her mind when it was her turn and it was starting to pay off. But soon Robo would be moving and Miri would have to find someone else to follow.

When Mason stopped by their station he ruffled Miri's hair, making the other girls sigh. Mason called her new haircut "cute" but Miri knew he didn't really like it. She a.s.sured him it would grow quickly, an inch a month, she'd heard, and just to be sure she'd already started to gently tug it, the way she did a pair of dungarees that had shrunk in the wash. She expected to be halfway there by summer, by the time of Henry and Leah's wedding. She was waiting until invitations went out to ask if she could invite Mason to be her date.

Mason pointed to a barrel-chested man, bowling in the next lane. "Joey Politics," he said. "He knows everybody and everything."

The girls looked over for a minute but really, what did they care about somebody called Joey Politics.

She told Mason about meeting Polina at Dr. O's office. "My mother's going to ask Ben Sapphire if he can find her and Stash a place to live."

"That'd be good." And just like that, he leaned in and kissed her, the first time they'd kissed in public, in front of Suzanne, Eleanor, Robo and Natalie. Then he kissed her again, until his boss called, "Enough, lover boy. You got a line waiting for shoes and I need a pin boy in lane six."

The girls teased her, humming the wedding march. "Have you set the date yet?" Robo asked.

"Stop!" Miri shouted, louder than she'd meant to, and they laughed, all but Natalie.

"It's freezing in here," Natalie said, wrapping a wool scarf around her neck. She was swathed in sweaters, and had her coat draped over her shoulders.

"If you bowled you'd be boiling," Suzanne told her, stripping down to a cotton s.h.i.+rt with her name embroidered across the pocket, like the ladies who played in leagues.

Miri threw her first strike that night, which she took as a sign that every day something good can happen. And today was a bonanza-new shoes, Mason's kisses and a strike.

Later, before Eleanor's father picked them up, Natalie took her aside. "Come to my house tomorrow morning. I have something to show you."

"Is it the surprise your father talked about?"

"He told you about the surprise?"

"Only that you have one. So what is it?"

"If I tell you it won't be a surprise. And don't say anything to the other girls, okay? I'm not ready to tell them yet."

Miri remembered the last time she'd gone to Natalie's, just her, and it turned out to be the worst day of her life.

- THE SURPRISE WAS the finished bas.e.m.e.nt. It had been transformed into a dance studio, with a mirrored wall, a barre and a wood floor. The jukebox still stood in the corner but instead of Nat King Cole and Patti Page, it held the kind of music you hear in movie musicals. Blue skies smilin' at me...

"Isn't it fabulous?" Natalie asked. "The floor is genuine maple, the best for tap." She hummed and did a couple of warm-up steps, then stopped and looked at Miri. "Say something."

"All the furniture is gone." Miri knew that wasn't what Natalie wanted to hear but she couldn't hide her disappointment.

"That's it?" Natalie asked, annoyed.

"No...I mean, it's great. But..."

"But what?"

"I'll miss the parties." This is where she and Mason met and danced for the first time. She'd been hoping Natalie would host another get-together soon. Maybe for Valentine's Day.

"We can still have parties," Natalie said. "The furniture is in the garage. Daddy and Steve can bring it back in anytime. Not that I have time for parties these days." Natalie pulled off one sweater, then another, and tossed them across the room. She stepped out of her dungarees and kicked them to the corner. Then she stood in front of the mirrored wall, in her long-sleeved black leotard, black tights, white little-girl socks trimmed in lace and black tap shoes with small heels and a Mary Jane strap. It had been ages since Miri had seen her without layers of clothing. The size of her took Miri's breath away.

"Why are you staring that way?" Natalie asked.

"What way?"

"Like you're in shock."

"Well, I am, sort of. You're so thin."

"I know. Isn't it great? Ruby's been coaching me. I eat green grapes and drink a ton of water. Dancers have to stay hydrated." Natalie posed. First position, second position, fifth position. "You know what I see when I look in the mirror?"

Miri was almost afraid to hear her say it.

"I see Ruby." She didn't wait for Miri's reaction. "I'm never alone now. She's given me the greatest gift a person can give. She's given me her life."

Miri felt something roiling inside her. She looked away, angry at Natalie for not eating, angry for acting crazy, angry for throwing away their friends.h.i.+p. But she was scared, too. Scared there was something really wrong with her. Scared that she and Natalie would never be friends again. That they'd never know what the other was thinking, that Natalie would never rest her head in Miri's lap while they watched television. Inseparable. That's what everyone said about them back in seventh grade. Come back! she wanted to shout. Come back and be my friend.

Natalie misunderstood Miri's expression. "You're jealous of Ruby?"

"Why would I be jealous of Ruby? She's dead."

"She's not dead," Natalie said. "Why can't you understand? Why won't you even try?"

"I don't like the way she's changed you."

"You've changed, too, since Mason. And just so you know, you're not the only one in love. I'm in love with this, with dance. Dance is my life. There is nothing else."

"Yes, there is. There's school and friends and your family. Some people would give anything for your family."

Natalie shook her head. "You don't know anything."

Miri didn't like the way Natalie said that, as if maybe there was something Natalie knew that she didn't. It hurt to think she had a secret she couldn't share with Miri. Not that Miri had shared her secret about Mike Monsky, but there was a difference between having a secret no one suspected and having one you dropped hints about, wasn't there?

"Maybe you should tell your parents about Ruby," Miri said. "Maybe they can help."

"Help? I don't need help. I've never been happier." She pressed the play b.u.t.ton and the jukebox came to life. She snapped her fingers a few times and began to tap as Judy Garland's voice sang, "Forget your troubles, come on, get happy." She tapped across the room and back, then paused, looked at Miri and smiled a smile Miri didn't recognize, a hard smile-maybe it was Ruby's, maybe not, but it sent s.h.i.+vers down Miri's spine. She took a couple of slow turns around the floor, then began to turn faster and faster until she was spinning, spinning like some kind of whirling dervish right out of their social studies book.

"Stop..." Miri called. "Stop!" But Natalie didn't stop. Her eyes glazed over, as she twirled faster and faster, until her face turned almost purple.

Miri ran upstairs, found Dr. O and Corinne in the kitchen eating bagels. "What is it?" Corinne asked, reading Miri's face.

"Natalie," Miri said.

They both jumped up and followed Miri downstairs, where Natalie was still spinning to Judy Garland. "Get ready for the Judgment Day..."

Miri pressed the off b.u.t.ton on the jukebox. The room fell silent, except for Natalie's taps. Dr. O grabbed her. "Natalie...sweetheart..." He lifted her into his arms. "My G.o.d. She's light as a feather," he said to Corinne.

Natalie's feet kept moving. Somewhere she or Ruby was still tapping.

"Call Harry Reiss," Dr. O said to Corinne. Dr. Reiss was a doctor, but also their friend. He was at their New Year's Eve party, in the conga line.

"It's Sunday," Corinne said.

"Call him at home," Dr. O said.

"No."

"Call him, Corinne, or I'm taking her straight to the hospital."

"You have no idea what's going on in this house, Arthur. You're too busy solving everyone else's problems to see that your son is in despair and your daughter is losing her mind. You think giving her a dance studio at home is going to fix this?" She swept her arm around the room. "Don't you see..." Corinne began to cry. "I'm utterly alone. I don't even have Mrs. Barnes to help and she's never coming back."

"You have friends."

"I wouldn't tell my friends one word about what's happening to us. Not one word."

Miri didn't want to hear this, didn't want to witness the end of the perfect family. The end of her fantasies. Now Natalie was slumped against her father like a rag doll.

Miri snuck up the stairs and out the back door while Corinne's and Dr. O's voices rose and fell and rose again. She rode her bike home and collapsed into Irene's arms. "What's wrong, sweetie pie?" Irene asked, holding her. And for once, she didn't ask any more questions.

There's Plenty to DO and Plenty to SEE Wherever You Go in

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21.

Gaby Gaby Wenders always wanted to fly. She'd wave to the planes as they flew across the wide-open fields behind her grandmother's house on their approach to Vandalia Airport between Dayton and Springfield, imagining the exciting lives of the pa.s.sengers inside the silver s.h.i.+p-all of them rich and good-looking, all of them dressed in the stylish travel clothes she'd seen in her older sister's fas.h.i.+on magazines.

At thirteen, she'd stand in front of the mirror and practice. Welcome aboard, ladies and gentlemen, she would say in her new, well-modulated voice. I am your lovely and perfectly groomed air hostess, Miss Gabrielle Wenders. Your pilot today is Scotty Champion. She'd smile ever so slightly, her fingertips touching the silver wings on the lapel of her suit jacket. Captain Scotty Champion would be so handsome the female pa.s.sengers would swoon at the sight of him. She might marry Scotty Champion someday, but not for many years, at least three, because she'd worked hard for her career and wasn't about to give it up for marriage.

In high school Gaby sent away for a brochure. She'd memorized it in the first week but she still liked to see it in print before closing her eyes at night.

Girls Wanted to Enter Flight Stewardess Training Group Here is the Career Opportunity for Which You Have Been Waiting!

If you are interested and feel that you can meet all of the qualifications below, please write in detail and attach a full length photograph.

HEIGHT: Between 52 and 56 WEIGHT: 135 pounds maximum ATTRACTIVE: "Just below Hollywood" standards Plenty of Personality and Poise GENDER: Female MARITAL STATUS: Single, Not Divorced, Separated or Widowed RACE: White AGE: 2126 years old EDUCATION: Registered Nurse or Two Years of College VISION: 20/20 without gla.s.ses Must be a US citizen and available for training within 6 months.

If you feel you qualify- If? Gaby thought. Come on! She qualified with a capital Q. To get her parents' blessing she showed them a line in a magazine about how being a stewardess was a career for "Wives-in-Training." She knew they'd approve of that.

Getting her RN degree at the local hospital took two years, and Gaby worked for a year after that, until she could apply, which she did, on her twenty-first birthday. At the time she was still living at home with her parents and her younger brothers, her older sister long married, with four-year-old twins, another on the way and a husband who operated a forklift. They lived in a little white house near her grandmother's place. "You'll be able to wave to me," she told her young nieces, "the way I used to wave to the planes."

"Will you wave back?" one of the girls asked.

"Of course I will."

Gaby chose National Airlines, in part because she'd read that American received 20,000 applications the year before, for just 347 stewardess positions. Not that she doubted her qualifications, not for a minute, but Gaby went for National anyway, and was accepted, the only applicant out of 29 being interviewed on the same day. She was jubilant. Hard work and a positive att.i.tude paid off.

She'd been careful about dating after high school, not wanting to get serious with some local boy who'd expect her to give up her dreams for his, produce two babies, preferably one of each s.e.x, wear an ap.r.o.n over her s.h.i.+rtwaist dress and have dinner on the table every night at 6 p.m. No thank you. There was a young doctor at the hospital but he was almost as dangerous as the others. If she confided her dream to him he'd drop her like a hot potato. Still, she went out with him, not that he had much time off, but she never told her mother. And sometimes, when their breaks coincided, they'd get into his car and kiss until the windows steamed up. She'd stop him when he tried to get his hand under her skirt. "Please," he begged. "Just this once. I'm a doctor. Doesn't that count for something?"

Ha! Gaby had a goal, and no doctor or anyone else was going to dissuade her. She knew there would be plenty of nurses for him to flirt with once she was out of the picture. Nurses who would let him get under their skirts. She couldn't worry about that. If some other nurse got him to put a ring on her finger while Gaby was flying, well, so be it.

"Oh, Gabrielle," her mother cried as she'd packed her bag to head for training in Newark. "I'd hoped you'd meet a handsome doctor at the hospital and give up this crazy idea of flying."

Now, eighteen months later, she had no regrets about leaving Dayton or young Dr. La.r.s.en. She loved her job. As far as she was concerned it was the best job in the world. In the stewardesses' dressing room at Newark Airport Gaby applied her makeup as she'd been taught in her program. A good base over the face and throat. Heavy enough to hide imperfections in the skin but light enough to look almost natural, a hint of color to the cheeks, brows penciled in, mascara to upper lashes only, no more high school lipstick. This month she was using Revlon's Love That Red.

She brushed out her hair, cut in a becoming style that never touched the collar of her suit jacket, and fastened her jaunty cap, which she had to leave on for the duration of the flight, not that she minded. She loved wearing her perfectly tailored and pressed suit, with the crisp white blouse and navy-blue heels, the leather bag swinging from her shoulder.

She wouldn't need her London Fog overcoat, with her name st.i.tched inside, a detail that made her proud, in Miami. But she'd take the London Fog raincoat, just in case. She swore she would save these two coats, part of her uniform, forever. She pulled on her white gloves, as required.