Secrets of the Prairie (7 page)

“Did she forget that it’s our anniversary or something?” Elliot shifted his weight and turned from his desk to look at me. I walked over and sat on his lap, grabbing his arms and wrapping them around me.

“Oh, honey, I doubt it. I’m still
technically
the new girl, since Nancy is too picky to hire any of the applicants we’ve had. So I’m basically still the studio 'baby'. I’m really sorry though, can we take a rain-check?” I leaned in and kissed him, pouting a little.

“Hmm. You’ll have to make it up to me tomorrow night.” He kissed my neck and squeezed me. I giggled a little and nuzzled him.

“Alright, I’d better check on the pasta,” I said, getting up, but he pulled me back down.

“Oh, no you don’t. The toll is a minimum of 5 smooches.” I kissed him four times in a row, making a loud
smacking
sound. I pulled back and looked on his desk. Elliot was a pretty successful comic book artist, and he had left the company to work independently in his office.

“Is this your new story?  What’s this one about again?”

“Oh, I scrapped that one. I kind of hit a wall. I’ve been brainstorming all day.”

I tilted my head in disapproval. “Elly, you can’t scrap every idea that isn’t perfect. You’d meet more submissions if you just stuck with the ones you have.”

“Babe, you don’t get it. I can’t just put out whatever comes to mind. I have to be happy with it or I’ll end up hating myself for submitting it, especially if no one bites.”

I internally rolled my eyes. The smell of burning pasta caught my attention and I hurried out of the kitchen.

I woke up to morning doves singing loudly outside my window. Stretching out my long, limber limbs and collecting my messy red hair, I rolled over and kissed Elliot’s shoulder. He was breathing softly, and I laid and stared at him for a long time. He stirred and I kissed him first on the arm, and then the neck, and then the cheek. He turned and kissed me on the lips, and sleepily pulled the covers to his chin and fell back asleep. I rubbed my eyes and rolled out of bed. It was 6:00 AM. I made a cup of my strongest tea and took a long, hot shower.

When I arrived at the studio an hour later, I didn’t see Nancy’s car.
Oh, so you expect me to be here early, but you apparently get to sleep in.
I pushed the negative thought out of my head, and yawned as I ascended the stairway, sipping on my second cup of tea.
I bet this coach guy is going to be some ridiculous asshole, just like the last one. I don’t care how good at dancing you are, you’re not absolved of being pretentious about it.

I took out my keys and began to unlock the studio door, but was startled to find that it was already unlocked. I opened it slowly, and cautiously walked inside. Binghamton wasn’t the most dangerous city in New York, but I was paranoid out of principle. I spent most of my childhood in the heart of New York City, and never quite lost my tendency for imagining dangerous possibilities. I balled up my fist and proceeded carefully, checking all of the door handles of the offices on the way through. Finally, I reached the ballroom, and stopped just as I was reaching the corner. There was a shadow moving across the ballroom, almost soundlessly, and I could hear breathing. That’s when I heard the faint sound of
Frank Sinatra
playing on the main stereo, and I peeked around the corner, almost running straight into the shadow’s owner.

“Ooof!” I screeched loudly. I looked up and froze for a moment. I was staring into the most incredible eyes I'd ever seen. I was never much for brown eyes, but these were the same shade as a willow tree, and beautiful.

“Ah, I’m sorry about that.” The man spoke with a velvety, yet gravelly voice.

He had cropped brown hair that curled perfectly on the top of his head, and was both tall and lean in stature. I realized that I must have been staring at him a little too long, because he began to look at me curiously. I looked down and realized that my balled up fist was resting in his palm; I had almost reflexively punched him in the stomach. And he had reflexively blocked it without any noticeable effort.

I backed up immediately, my cheeks flushing wildly.

“I am so sorry, you must be the coach. I didn’t know you’d have a key, so I just assumed you were a robber or something, it was just instinct…” I cursed myself silently for stuttering a little, talking at frantic speed. I stopped talking abruptly and took a breath. I looked up and he was smirking, his head tilted slightly.

“It’s quite alright. Jenny, is it?”

“Yes, and you’re Luis, right?”

“At your service.” He chuckled, but I was still too exasperated to pay much attention to the odd way he spoke. 

“What were you practicing?” I asked, trying to compose myself.

“I was working on my Viennese waltz.”

My jaw dropped. Viennese was one of the most difficult dances to do, mainly because it involved the wide, gliding steps of the waltz, with added quick steps and a much faster tempo. In addition to that, it includes waltz’s particular frame and poise; Nancy was the only dancer I knew who could do it perfectly.

“You can Viennese?!” I was too awestruck to feel self-conscious of my envy. He chuckled softly at my dumbfounded expression.

“Would you like to learn?”

I momentarily imagined the thought of him gracefully waltzing around the room, me in toe, tripping every other step. I was fairly new and nowhere near his level of skill. I shook my head fervently.

“Oh, no, there’s no way I could keep up with you. Not yet.”

“Nonsense.” He displayed an amazing smile. He didn’t have dimples, but the corners of his mouth created gentle creases that flowed handsomely into his cheeks. I found myself staring at them as he spoke. I tried to focus on what he was saying with mild difficulty.

“It’s never too early to learn.”

Before I could protest, he held out his hand in the traditional ballroom courtship. I look at him, feeling uneasy in how comfortable I felt around him already; I was usually wary of men I didn’t know.

“We’ll dance without music, so that you can concentrate on the movements to start off.” I felt drawn to him, and before I could think about it, I placed my hand in his and he led me to the middle of the floor. We got into frame, and I could feel his toned bicep under my hand, which laid gently on his forearm. I prayed that my palms wouldn’t get sweaty. The scent of his breath, which smelled like a warm breeze, intoxicated me. I mentally chastised myself for getting goose bumps as his palm gripped my shoulder blade delicately. He adjusted his frame and counted time in a practiced voice.

“1,2,3. 1,2,3. 1,2,3.”

We began to dance slowly, and I couldn’t believe how he seemed to glide effortlessly across the floor. It felt as if there was no weight to me at all as I followed his adept lead.

“Now, on the 2,3, you’re going to shorten your steps before the next measure.”

I panicked as we dove into the move, and I ended up tripping on myself. If he was frustrated, he showed no sign of it as he caught balance for both of us, still tightly keeping me close. He stopped.

“You don’t like following, do you?”

I became defensive instantly.

“No, it’s not that, I just…”

“....want to predict where you’re going. I know.”

I puffed my cheeks out a little in frustration, and looked up to see him smiling that lopsided smile again. I averted my eyes quickly, blushing.

“You also need to stop looking down when you dance.”

“But what if I trip? I mean, there’s nothing to trip on. And I don’t mean to, I just…” I trailed off. I was over-explaining again.

“Just keep your head up and your balance will improve.”

I pushed the defensiveness out of my head and nodded. He was a coach, after all, and I should be taking his word for it. We practiced like this for about a half an hour. Being so close to him made me breathless, though it didn’t take much time for me to realize just how unpracticed I was.

I heard the door open a few minutes later, and the familiar sound of Nancy’s impossibly high heels began to click down the carpeted hallway. She appeared from around the corner, looking extremely sharp, as usual.

“You two started early.” I hoped that she couldn’t read my face as well as she normally did. I let go of him quickly, and walked over to greet her.

“Not quite, I was just showing her a little Viennese” Luis said.

“You do realize that she’s still very new, don’t you? I appreciate you helping her craft her dancing, but I don’t want to overwhelm her with too much at once,
Luis
.” I had a feeling that the two had known each other for longer than this week. Luis flashed her that dazzling smile.

“Of course,
Nancy
. My apologies” Nancy shrugged her shoulders and began to walk into her office.

“Just remember that she’s still under
my
training, Luis. Try to stick to the syllabus that I’m teaching her, please.” She disappeared behind her door without another word.

I peered up at Luis. His expression hadn’t changed. Nancy had always mildly terrified me on some level. She was extremely smart, driven, and talented, and had a constant mask that never seemed to waver.

“She’s not mad, is she?” I asked.

“Nancy? Oh, no, she just likes to be in control of everything. You shouldn’t be so afraid of her.”

“I’m
not
afraid of her. She just has such a firm demeanor, and it makes me so nervous when I have to do skill tests while she’s watching me.”

“In this profession, you mustn't be afraid of anything. Not if you want to be serious about it.” He said, and then looked at me sideways.

“And don’t get nervous. She can smell fear.” I looked at him, surprised. He laughed again at my expression.

“Relax, I’m just kidding.”

When I arrived home, I was completely exhausted. I plopped down on the couch next to Elliot, who was engrossed in a sketch. He looked up, smiling.

“Babe, how long have you been working on this new comic?”

“Pretty much since you left for the studio. I actually was so focused, I think I forgot to eat lunch.” He chuckled light-heartedly as I sighed.

“I’ll go cook something up for us. I’m starving.” I loved Elliot, but sometimes I wish I could come home to a dinner that I didn’t have to make. I internally shrugged my shoulders. I kissed him on the forehead and grunted as I made my way into the kitchen.

“How was training today?” He yelled from the couch.

“It was great. Exhausting, but great. The new coach really knows his stuff.” I looked into the sink of day-old dishes. I tried to brush off my annoyance.

“Oh, it’s a guy? That’s unexpected.” Elliot wasn’t the jealous type which I had always loved about him, but for some reason today I wished that he was.

“Guys dance, too, Elly. It’s not that uncommon.” He didn’t reply. I peeked out of the kitchen to see him contemplating his next line. I smiled then; I had adored the scrunched-up face he made when he was concentrating. I pushed Luis out of my mind as I expertly stirred vegetable stir fry.

It was finally the weekend, and I ached as I opened my eyes. Something felt off. Trying to shake it, I leaned over Elliot’s peacefully sleeping face and kissed his cheek. He stirred without opening his eyes, and kissed my nose.

“I’ll go make us some coffee.”

I rolled out of bed, holding back the groan rising in my throat. The rest of the week’s training had been arduous, and took a toll on every inch of my body. As I hit “start” on the coffee grinder, my mind wandered to earlier in the week, when Luis and I had been practicing my salsa. I had tried so desperately to not ogle the way his hips moved. In Latin-style dance, there is something called “Cuban motion,” and it requires the use of the hips to generate the correct movement. His hips moved flawlessly and erotically. At some point during our time together, he had adopted a habit of running his thumb across my hand while he held it. I’d assumed it wasn’t intentional; he was so very difficult to read, and it made me self-conscious.

Suddenly, I realized what my strange feeling was when I woke up. I stopped pouring the coffee as I struggled to recollect the dream I had. It was about Luis. I bit my lip unconsciously as I resumed fixing our coffee, and raced back into the bedroom.

Elliot had fallen back asleep. I sighed and placed his cup on the nightstand beside him, and paused. His face was angelic. He always had such an innocent, boyishly handsome look, and it didn’t betray his gentle nature. Except when he drank too heavily. That’s when most of our fighting happened; I resented the way he never seemed interested in talking about our issues when I did. Or ever, for that matter.

He stirred again and opened his eyes to see me staring at him absently.

“Hey, baby. You made coffee. You’re the sweetest.” He groggily gravitated towards the coffee cup and didn’t seem to notice the distant look on my face. He was never very good at noticing these things.

“What do you want to do today, El? Did you still want to take the canoe out to that river we found the other day? I could make mini sandwiches and tea the same way that I did when we hiked the Adirondacks?” Despite my mood, the idea of another one of our adventures delighted me.

“Yes, honey, after I finish that piece.” I looked over at the clock. It was already noon.

“Don’t you want to get there before the sun goes down? It’s going to be really hard to find in the dark.” I frowned.

“Yes, but I really need to finish this before tomorrow, if we want to have any time for our anniversary dinner tomorrow.”

“I thought this was going to be part of our anniversary weekend. Don’t you think it deserves more than one day of celebration? I mean, we already missed the actual day.”

“Yeah, because you had to go into work early, Jen.” He started to get defensive.

“Because that’s my job, Elliot. Unlike you, I have to be there at a strict time or Nancy will have my ass.” I unknowingly had begun to raise my voice in annoyance.

“This is
my
job though, Jenny. I thought you understood that.”

“I
do
understand that. But if you spent less time trashing ideas that you half-assed and trying to create new ones halfway through your deadline, you’d have more time!” I stopped. I wasn’t an angry person, I hated yelling. I breathed.

“You don’t understand what it’s like to be creative, Jenny. You have a set of rules that you have to follow and that’s it, no more thinking involved after that.” He realized how offended I now was, and held his hands up. I turned away from him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, Jen.” I huffed in response.

He stood up and put his palms on my shoulders, resting his head between my shoulder blades. I didn’t react.

“I wouldn’t want to deal with Nancy’s face if you had said no, either.” I unsuccessfully fought off laughter at this, and gave in as we both exchanged Nancy impersonations.

“I love you,” I said, still chuckling a little.

“I love you too, Jen.”