No One's Watching (32 page)

“Okay.” I glanced at Mom. Did that mean her? Or Mrs. Sykes, or both? “I need to say hello to someone. See you later.”

I swept away to rescue Mom from Mr. Sean. She held her enormous handbag between them like an exploded airbag.

I inhaled. “Hi, Mom.”

She had twisted her blond hair into a loose bun. “There you are.”

How should I interpret that?

Mr. Sean shook my shoulder. “Beautiful dancing. Well done.” He leaned close to my ear. “Many people have told me the Irish dance was the highlight of the afternoon. You all worked so hard. I can't wait to set that same piece on my students back home.”

“Thanks.”

He shook my hand. “I'll let you catch up with your mother.” He shook Mom's hand. “Very nice meeting you, Mrs. Othersen. I'd be happy to e-mail you those addresses.” Mr. Sean spun off through the crowd.

“How's Grandma?” My throat burned.

“Her nurse friend from mahjong is staying with her.” Mom set her handbag down.

“She's home. That's good, right?” My spirits rose.

“Well enough to come home late yesterday.”

I shifted in my sandals. “How did you like the performance?”

“Lovely.”

A spark of hope ignited in my chest.

She checked her program. “Olivia was great. The boy with the red hair, Jupiter, was a terrific partner. I see Tiffany had two roles, which is unusual, I think. She was quite good as Jupiter's partner.” She lowered her voice. “I'm not sure she was suited to the waltz solo, though.” She shrugged.

I fingered my sundress. “Yeah, about that. Maybe we can go somewhere to talk.”

Mom followed me out of the conference room and into the TV lounge. She tucked one leg under herself on a sofa. I sat in a plump chair across from her.

“What happened to the ballet
pas de deux
you told me you had?” Mom folded her hands in her lap. “There were scouts from major ballet schools in the audience.”

I studied my hands in my lap. “Actually, I was offered the solo. I had a choice to make because of a scheduling conflict. Irish dance or the ballet solo. I guess you can tell which one I chose.”

Her voice rose. “But why Irish dance, of all things? You've never shown any interest in it.”

“I never knew what it was. Every time it came on TV, you made a negative comment and changed the channel.” I raised my hands helplessly.

She studied my face. “You didn't pick Irish dance because of the boy who was your partner, did you? I saw you two come in to the room together. Blaine something.”

“Blake. And no. We're, um, friendly now, but definitely weren't when I chose to stay in Irish dance.”

She leaned forward. “Are you sure? Irish dance.” She shook her head. “I hope you're not going to make the same mistake I did.”

Silence.

“What mistake? What are you talking about?”

She fussed with her gigantic handbag. “We should get on the road.”

“Wait. What mistake? What are you talking about?”

Her face reddened. “Have you packed everything? We need to get your bags.”

“This isn't about the ballet solo, is it? You're upset because I did the Irish dance. Why?”

“You lied to me about the ballet solo. You wanted to come to this camp. To improve your ballet technique.”

“That was why you sent me here. No one asked if I wanted to be a ballet dancer. I've found something else I love to do. Irish dance is exhilarating, fun, and takes so much control.” I closed my eyes. “I can't stop thinking about it.” I opened them. “If this isn't about the ballet solo, why are you so angry with me? What mistake are you talking about?”

Mom sank back on the sofa. She glanced around the empty room. “One summer many years ago, I was performing at a festival in upstate New York for a few weeks. A lot of dancers do that in the off-season. Ballet, jazz, modern. Anyway, I met a dancer with one of the Irish dance troupes.”

I nodded. “Go on.”

“He was tall and handsome with black hair. He had fantastic leaps.” She paused. “We became close.” She eyed me. “You know.”

“Close. Is that what you called it back then?” I tilted my head. Her comment sank in. “My father is an Irishman? Why have you never told me? What happened to him?” Please say he died tragically, never knowing the daughter he left behind.

“After our residency was up, he went back to Ireland.”

“Didn't you tell him about me?” Was I the mistake?

“At that point, I didn't know you were part of the picture. I thought that was it. A summer fling.” She frowned. “Apparently, he had a wife.”

My mouth dropped open.

“I didn't know about her until the end of our time together when I told him my company was going to tour Europe and I could visit him.” She smoothed her hair and replaced a bobby pin. “That was the mistake. Not you. Getting involved with a cheater, although I didn't know it at the time. From then on, I couldn't stand anything that reminded me of him. Including Irish dance.”

Poor Mom.

She straightened her skirt. “I didn't know I was pregnant for a couple of months. I wondered why I was gaining weight. When I found out, I decided to leave the ballet company. It worked out. Grandpa had passed away a year earlier, and Grandma needed me to help her with the studio.” She sighed. “I was in the
corps de ballet
. Who knows what would have happened if I hadn't met him and stayed with the company, but that wasn't the case.” Mom stared at her hands.

So because of me, Mom quit performing. Could she have risen to soloist or principal dancer? Or joined a more prestigious company?

She focused on me. “And Grandma and I both raised you. That was never a mistake.”

“When were you planning on telling me this?” My head spun from the confession.

“Um, when you were fourteen and a half.” She managed a weak smile and stood.

Deep breath.

“Not all Irishmen are like him. Mr. Sean is nice and so are his Irish musician friends.” Too bad Mr. Sean wasn't my dad, but he was way too young. “So you never told him about me?”

She shook her head. “He doesn't deserve you.”

A little part of me broke off and drifted away. Maybe if he knew about me, he'd want me to visit him in Ireland. Like that wouldn't be awkward.

“I'm sorry. For not telling you. For pushing you.” She hugged me. “I've been angry for a long time.”

Seemed to be a theme.

“Do you want to go home now?”

I nodded. I wanted to see Grandma.

“I'll wait here while you get your things, unless you need me upstairs.” She collapsed against the sofa. I gave her Chester to keep her company while she waited for me.

“He's cute.” She snuggled him.

Wait till you meet Blake.
“He sure is.” No more secrets. I left to get my dance partner and introduce him to my mom.

Adagio
: A slow, controlled movement danced
au milieu
, in the center of the room.

Arabesque
: A pose on the supporting leg with the other leg straight behind the dancer.

Attitude
: A pose modeled after the statue of Mercury where the standing leg is straight and the leg behind is bent at a ninety-degree angle.

Barre
: Rails along the wall dancers use to help their balance while doing exercises.

Battement degagé
: To disengage the foot from the floor by sliding and lifting it a few inches.

Claddagh
: A design on a ring where two hands are depicted holding a crowned heart and representing love, friendship, and loyalty.

Coppélia
: One of the earliest ballets to be based on the theme of a doll's coming to life.

Corps
: Group (or body) of dancers supporting the featured dancers.

Danseur
: Male ballet dancer.

Danseuse
: Female ballet dancer.

Entrechat quatre
: Jumping in the air from fifth position, beating the legs, and landing with the same foot in front.

Feis
: An Irish dance competition.

Ghillies
: Soft black leather dance shoes, similar to ballet slippers girls wear, only with laces crisscrossing over the foot.

Grand battements
: Large beats with the leg, like kicks.

Grand Pas de Quatre
: Four great prima ballerinas of the nineteenth century (Fanny Cerrito, Marie Taglioni, Lucille Grahn, and Carlotta Grisi) who performed at one time in one dance.

Labanotation: A system — like musical notes on a staff — for recording dance movement. It was first published by Rudolf Laban in 1928.

Pas de Basque
: Based on a step from the Basque region, danced sweepingly across the floor.

Pas de bourrée couru
: Little steps running, usually performed
en
pointe
or on the balls of the feet moving smoothly toward the side, front, or back.

Pas de chat
: Sideways leap resembling a cat's quick movement.

Petit battements
: Little beats with one foot curled around the ankle of the other.

Piqué
turns: Turns on one foot done by stepping out.

Pirouettes
: Turns on one foot.

Pliés
: Deep knee bends.

En
Pointe
: Dancing on the tips of one's toes in special satin shoes stiffened with starch and glue.

Pointe
shoes: Satin slippers with a stiffened toe box so female dancers can dance on the tips of their toes.

Port de bra
s: Carriage of the arms from one position to another.

Positions of the Feet: First position, heels together and toes turned outward; Second position, the same as first in a wider stance; Third position, the heel of the front foot resting against the instep of the back foot; Fourth position, the same as third but in a wider stance; Fifth position, the toe and heel of the front foot against the heel and toe of the back foot.

Relevé
: Rising on the ball of the foot or toes, if in
pointe
shoes.

Slip Jig: Irish dance performed in nine-eighths time, high on the toes in soft shoes. A graceful dance closest to ballet.

Soubrette
: Usually a small dancer, known for her quick movements.

Les Sylphides
: A plot-less ballet choreographed by Michel Fokine about a male poet cavorting in the moonlight in the woods with nymphs. The music is by Chopin.

Tendu
: To slide and stretch the foot on the floor.

Sandy Green is a children's author and poet. She trained as a classical ballet dancer, earned a BFA in dance from Florida State University and has several years of experience in the popular world of competitive Irish dance. She lives in northern Virginia with her husband and two children. Her first book, The Tide Changers, is a middle grade underwater adventure.

Chapter One

Mateo