84 Ribbons (36 page)

When Lynne arrived, her aunt and the little girls came in as well with smiles and giggles.

“What’s this?” Marta said. “It’s not a dance day.”

“We decided to have a little party in your honor,” Mrs. Meadows said. “And the girls have something for you.”

Lucy handed Marta a shoe box. “These are for you. Open them now.”

Marta peeked inside. The box held a pile of cards. A laugh spread from her heart to her lips. One by one she looked at every card decorated with an assortment of little girl drawings: dancers, hearts, rainbows, sunshine, houses with smoking chimneys, flowers, horses, and cats. Each card said they’d miss her and hoped she’d be able to dance soon.

“Thanks, ladies. I’ll keep these forever.” Marta pressed them to her chest and allowed herself to cry.

“Will you come back for our recital?” Brenda asked.

“Not this year. Maybe next year.”

“Where will be practice and learn to dance?” Carmen said.

“Mrs. B. might let you come here until you find another place. She loves to listen to your dance music playing.”

Mrs. Meadows returned from her car carrying a pink cake with a ballerina on the top. “The girls picked this out for you.”

“You’re the ballerina on the top,” Tracy said.

They took the cake to the basement to eat. Each girl danced for Marta, making up ideas on the spot. Lynne led them through their group dance, then their solos. All the while Marta smiled, feeling joy spread through her body.

After the little girls left, Marta took Lynne up to her room. She’d packed everything except her photos. Now she watched Lynne sift through the box intended for her use.

“Good grief!” Lynne said. “What did you leave me, all your dirty laundry?”

Marta laughed. “No, I left you the solo costumes for the little girls and plenty of odds and ends. Keep looking. You’ll see.”

Lynne pawed through the box, then dumped it on the floor. “You left a lot. You know I can’t sew. How can I finish the costumes?”

“All you need to do is hem the sleeves and bottom edges and put on snaps and you’ll be set,” Marta said. “You can figure out a headpiece if you want.”

“I guess I can handle that.” Lynne held up a sweater. “Hey, isn’t this mine? How did you get this?”

“You gave it to me after Christmas when you got a new one.”

“Oh, that’s right. Don’t you want it? You can wear it and think of me.”

Marta took back the sweater.

They sat on the bed talking until Lynne checked the clock. “I’ve got to go. Got a late date tonight. Met him at the bookstore. He thinks I’m wonderful, especially since I told him I was a soloist. I might be next year; what’s a little lie, huh?”

Marta shook her head. “You’re so funny. He’s lucky to know you regardless of whether you solo or not.” Marta reached for Lynne’s hands. “I’ll miss all your crazy dating stories.”

“I’ll call you and bore you with them.” Lynne piled things back into the box. “Oh! I have the latest on Madame and Herbert.” Lynne sat down on the bed and leaned in close to Marta as if they might be overheard. “His wife is leaving him. And, get this, he’s moving to New York. His company bought a plant back east that makes parts for his ah, that whatchamacallit, so he’s out of here.”

“Who’s going to head up the patrons?”

Lynne cleared her throat as if to make a speech. “His wife. Diana had the money all this time. Isn’t that a hoot? Her grandmother was Arinna Darvinilla, the ballerina.

“More news. There’s a rumor that the Intermountain Ballet Company will start a ballet school in the near future. Diana insisted the new ballet academy be named for her grandmother. Madame had a fit. She thought it would be named for her. Who’d want to a member of the Cosper Ballet Academy?”

Marta closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment to feel sorry for Madame. What had happened to her to make her sour? It must have been very serious and heartbreaking.

Lynne stood and hoisted the box. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m cooking for you, so get a bottle of Pepto and be ready at six thirty. And this time it’s not a TV dinner. I’m fixing food that doesn’t come in an aluminum tray!”

“Lynne?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not a party. I want you to have a good reason to leave town, and my cooking should do that.”

Late Wednesday morning, Marta entered the ballet company building through the front door. Karl sat in his usual place with the morning paper spread across his ample middle.

“Hi, Karl.”

“Miss Marta. Nice to see you again. Ready to start dancing again, huh?”

“No, I’m leaving. My ankle hasn’t healed enough for me to dance. Could I go up and see Damien?”

“Go on up. He’s in all day now that rehearsals are winding down.”

Karl stood and moved his chair aside. “Miss Marta? I’m sorry about your ankle. I have somethin’ for you.” He fumbled around in his desk, then handed her a photo. The inscription said, ”Best Wishes, Maria Tallchief.”

“Miss Tallchief danced here once. I managed the backstage crew. Such a beautiful dancer.”

Marta looked at the photo. “I can’t take this, Karl. It’s yours.”

“Naw. I’m retiring next spring. You take it. You’ve been a nice gal. I want you to have it.”

“Thanks. May I give you a hug, Karl?”

Karl came out of his little room and the two hugged. “You be careful with that ankle, Marta. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll try, Karl. I’ll miss you. Thanks for the photo.”

Marta climbed the stairs and knocked on the office door. She heard, “Come in,” and entered the room.

“Marta!” Damien stood, came around his desk, and greeted her with a hug.

“I wanted to thank you for helping me prepare for the audition.”

”My pleasure. You tried your best. Be proud of that. What are you going to do now?”

“Go home. Keep working on my ankle. I want to dance again, if I can.”

“And you might. Let me know if I can help in any way. You have lots of wonderful skills. It would be a shame for you to waste your talent.”

“Thanks for your kindness.” Marta looked to her feet. As she opened the door, she stopped. “Good luck with the tribute performances. The Gershwin evening should be a popular performance.”

“I hope so. It’s always a gamble to try something new and different.”

Outside the office, she leaned against the wall until her breathing slowed and a calmness settled in. She had tried, done her best, but now it was time to step away, to create her own new and different.

With the rest of the day free, Marta strolled through town, picking up small gifts for the boarders, Mrs. B., and Lynne. Then she headed home to finish packing.

The dinner at Lynne’s ended up being spaghetti with a jar of marinara sauce, a lettuce wedge salad with mayonnaise for dressing, and Coca Cola in wine glasses. They sat and laughed, talking about the drama at the company and their encounters with Madame and how they missed Bartley.

“Well, Marta, we had an exciting year, didn’t we? I could have done without the sad parts.”

“I agree.” Marta fiddled with the edge of her place mat, then let her eyes wander around Lynne’s apartment before she looked at Lynne. “I’ll miss you so much. I promise to come back next year to see the little girls dance.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Lynne stood and collected their dishes as a knock sounded at the door. “Get that, will you?”

Marta opened the door. Steve was standing on the porch.

Marta’s eyes widened. “Hi. How did you know…?” She turned and shouted, “Lynne?”

Steve touched Marta’s hand. “Don’t be mad. Lynne and I set this up. May I come in?” He handed her the largest bouquet of daisies she had ever seen. “I hope you like daisies.”

Lynne joined them. “Of course she likes daisies. I thought you weren’t going to make it.”

“Had to raid my aunt’s shop. Couldn’t find enough wild ones.”

Marta held the bouquet, enjoying the yellow and white daisy faces. There was no way she could stay upset with their tricking her. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Are you ready to go, or should I wait in the car?”

Lynne put her arm around Marta. “If you don’t take her soon I’ll probably start to cry all over again, and that isn’t a pretty scene.”

Marta leaned her head against Lynne’s shoulder. “I’ll think of you every day, especially when I wear the blue sweater. Call me, write, and please come visit. I, I don’t know what I am going to do without you.” Marta began to cry.

“Now don’t get me started again.” Lynne wiped her eyes as she pushed Marta toward the door. “Get her out of here before the flood breaks. I’ll see you tomorrow at the train.”

“No, Lynne. Say good bye here. Please?”

Lynne grabbed Marta and hugged her tightly, crushing the flowers.  “Whatever you want. You be happy and call me, hear?”

“I will.” Marta headed out the door, then rushed back to hug Lynne. “Oh, Lynne, I’ll miss you so, so much!”

“Go! Get out of here!”

Steve drove Marta to The Rims. The city lights sparkled in the warm evening. They wandered the edge, watching car lights below them move like grounded stars. He took Marta’s hand and kissed her fingers.

She leaned against his chest. “Your being at Lynne’s was a nice surprise.”

“I’m glad you weren’t mad.” Steve put his arms around her shoulders. They stood quiet for long moments. “Marta, I want to tell you something important.”

“What?”

“Okay. I’ve mentioned this several times, but you usually react so strongly I’m almost afraid to try again.”

“What, Steve?”

He brushed aside her hair and traced the side of her face with his fingers. “From the first day I saw you, I knew you were special. I want you to know that I will always care about you.”

Marta lay her head against his chest, listening to the loud thumping of his heart; it matched her own. “I care about you too, Steve.”

“You do? For real?”

“Yes. I didn’t want to, but I’ve always cared for you.”

“Really? Then stay here. I’ll work for the paper in town.”

Marta shook her head. “I need to figure out who I am going to be since I’m not a dancer. I need time for everything to settle down. And you need space to think about where you want to work. I’d feel guilty if you settled for something less than what you dream about doing.”

“So, you care about me, right?”

“Course I do. At first I needed to focus on my dance career. I didn’t know how to handle being a girlfriend at the same time.”

“Do you know how to handle it now?”

“Yes. When you’re not around I feel like something, someone, is missing.”

“You tell me this, and now you’re leaving me?”

She nodded against his chest. “Can you understand? I have to leave to get back on track.”

“Sure.”

They stood in a knotted hug. Marta tried to absorb his presence, to save it for the times ahead when they’d not be together.

“Will you write to me in San Francisco or wherever I end up? You could come visit me or I could visit you. I don’t want to lose you, Miss Fluff.”

“You won’t.”

“I’ll try to call you every Sunday. I promise I’ll do a better job this time.”

“I’ll count on that.”

Steve  released his hold on her, moving her away so they could see each other’s faces. “Can I entice you to wear the bracelet I gave you before I left for San Francisco?”

Marta studied his face. Was he serious? “You still want me to have it?”

“Of course. I hoped you’d agree to wear it one day.” He pulled the box from his pocket, opened it, and held up the bracelet. The faint city lights made the diamonds sparkle like stars.

His fingers shook as he hooked the clasp. Marta touched his fingers and held them against the bracelet. “This is so beautiful. Are you sure you want me to have this, Steve?”

“Positive.” He kissed her and let out a sigh. “Thank heavens you didn’t say no this time.”

Marta laughed. A tangled sensation grew inside her. “I’ve been so confused and moody and selfish. I’m trying to figure things out. One thing I do know is that I love you.”

He kissed her again. “It’s about time, Miss Fluff.”

They stood wrapped together, alternately holding each other and kissing. When another car appeared on the side road, Steve released all but her hand. “We’d better go.”

An hour later he backed down the boarding house porch steps, pulling Marta’s hands along. “Tomorrow’s a big day.”

“I wouldn’t call it that. But remember, you promised not come to the train. I can’t stand saying good bye again. Promise?”

“I promise.” He smiled and blew a kiss. “I love you, Miss Fluff.”

“I love you too, ink boy.”

Marta stood on the porch until Steve’s car disappeared. Then she sat back in the swing. In a few hours she’d be on her way home, stepping into a life that wouldn’t be choreographed until she set it in motion.

34

S
unrise. Pale gray clouds covered the sky as Marta stood on The Rims one last time. The bike ride and the walk up the long hill wore her out, but she had been determined to make the trek on her own.

After nine short months she could pick out numerous landmarks: her boarding house street, the highway cutting east to west through the valley, the Beartooth Mountains, the Yellowstone River. She’d grown to love these open spaces, the cottonwoods, the big sky of Montana. But being a sea level, Puget Sound girl, she missed a cool edge in morning weather. Not long now until she’d be back home, for better or worse.

Late in the afternoon, Marta said her goodbyes on the boarding house porch. James hugged her. “You’re a nice person. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Marta cried and hugged him tightly.

Shorty cleared his throat. “I hope when you dance in your old garage studio, you’ll remember us. I listened to your music every time I heard you in the basement. It made me feel like I helped you in some tiny way. Did you get those eighty-four ribbons?”

“I came close, Shorty. I’m taking eighty-three ribbons home.” Marta patted his slumped shoulders, then pulled him into a hug. “Thanks for remembering my ribbons.”

That left Carol. Did she want or need to say goodbye to her?  As Marta considered her options, Carol stepped out. “You’re leaving? Well, goodbye.” Carol walked to sit in the porch swing, set it in motion, and watched Marta with disinterest, as if she were a passerby, not someone she’d shared a house, meals, and a bathroom with over the last nine months.