Mambo in Chinatown (24 page)

“Of course.”

The only photo I could find so quickly of Lisa was an old one of her and Pa together. I didn’t want to go through the boxes in the closet to find her old school pictures and I figured it wouldn’t matter that much. I’d slipped the picture out of its frame and then stuffed it in the envelope.

Todd simply draped the T-shirt across his lap, then held the sealed envelope and closed his eyes, frowning. “This is strange, I feel a young female energy and an older male one.”

That was impressive. “That’s because I couldn’t find a photo of her alone. That is of her and Pa. Don’t you want to take it out and look at the picture?”

He ignored my question, keeping his eyes closed. “That explains it. You removed it from its frame this morning. They are standing by water, with some kind of wooden structure near them.”

My breath caught. I’d been alone in the apartment when I took the photo and he’d never been to our place so he couldn’t have seen it before. The photo was from when we all went to Coney Island together. “How did you know that?”

He opened his eyes and, for the first time, I saw Todd look hurt. “Despite what you truly think of me, I am not a fraud.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t quite know what to make of you.”

“It’s okay. I should be used to it by now. To be honest, some of this stuff is fake and some is real. I don’t really know how I feel about it myself. It’s hard to tell which is which.”

He closed his eyes again. He started jittering his left leg, like he was having an epileptic attack. “They love each other very much.
The girl’s very unhappy. It’s like there’s a darkness touching her. There’s another man. He has too much influence over her. He’s a cold, dominant person.” Uncle Henry.

“What about her illness? What is wrong with her?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t really feel an illness. There is darkness but I’m not sure if it’s located in her body. It may be a more psychological condition.”

I thought of what Godmother had said, about the physical and the emotional being linked. “But she can hardly walk anymore, her legs are so weak. She’s not faking it.”

“It’s like there’s a mountain weighing her down. She has a secret. I can’t tell what it is, but I think it has to do with the man. They are wrapped up together in some kind of dance but it’s not a healthy one.”

“Uncle Henry. He’s planning to bring her back to China for more treatment. My father won’t listen to anyone else.”

He reached out and took my hand. I could still feel the movement of his leg. It was disconcerting, made it hard to think. “Your own future is in constant flux. I see two paths in front of you. Be wary of what looks like right but is actually wrong.”

I was irritated. Couldn’t anyone speak clearly? “Now you sound like the Vision.”

“Follow your heart. Choose to become the woman you should be, the one your ma would wish for you.” His leg stilled. He was done.

—

The studio was wound up in excitement about the upcoming competition. Ryan and I performed our mambo from beginning to end at one of the studio parties. Everyone clapped and whistled, especially Evelyn and Trevor.

“What did you think?” I asked Nina afterward.

“You were amazing! I can’t believe how fast you both have improved.”

“Do you think Adrienne is right, that we need more emotion between us?”

“That’s hard to say, Charlie. It does seem a bit . . . well, you know, flat at moments, but that’s a lot better than not knowing what you’re doing.”

Ryan and I had been careful to be restrained with each other, so it was probably that deadening of feeling that she sensed. Although I still felt the same way about him, I made sure not to let it show. Evelyn and Ryan took a few lessons together, so they could practice their father-daughter dance for the wedding, which was to be the weekend before the competition. After all of their lessons, he and Evelyn had no trouble dancing together at all. I was grateful I didn’t need to teach Ryan and Fiona. She’d be coming back soon and they’d catch up. It shouldn’t hurt this much.

When I told Evelyn how wonderful she and Ryan looked, she said, “You’ve done such an incredible job with him. Thank you.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Just keep talking about me like I’m not here.”

When I laughed, he’d looked at me, just a moment too long, a shade too intensely. Although I immediately changed the subject, I saw Evelyn watching us both throughout the rest of the lesson.

During a private lesson with my Asian doctors, Jason and Naomi, I said, “Tango basics across the room, left turns around the corners and, if you feel like you can handle it, throw in a couple of fans.” Sometimes teaching dance reminded me of ordering food at the noodle restaurant.

In the middle of one of Naomi’s fans, Jason whipped a
handkerchief out from behind her ear. “This is for you, Charlie. For good luck at the competition.”

“Thanks so much,” I said, touched. It read “Mambo #1.”

Jason said, “And don’t forget my offer about your friend. Just let me know if you need my help.”

“Actually, I’ve been wondering about something.” Todd’s words that there might not be an illness involved had given me some hope. I turned to Naomi. “What was it you said about your work? That sometimes a physical problem can come from mental stress or something? In Chinese medicine, it’s the same. They believe emotion and physical pain are always related. Could that possibly be what’s happening?”

Naomi nodded. “It’s always a possibility. A traumatic event could cause symptoms that are physical. I had a girl who went blind. After therapy, just talking about the problems in her family, she regained her sight.”

Jason said, “I’d have to caution you there, Charlie. It’s tempting to believe that, so we don’t have to face that something could be seriously wrong with someone we care about. We always have to rule out the physical causes first. Most of the time, a disease is going to be the reason.”

—

In the week before the competition, I came home from the studio to find Pa waiting for me. Lisa was already asleep. Without a word, he beckoned to me to come into his room so we wouldn’t wake her. He held out something in his hand. It was my salary slip, which I was always careful to hide. He must have found my stack stashed in the back of the closet where we kept our mattresses. Underneath was a copy of my entry form for the scholarship. I was sunk.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked. “You’ve been acting so difficult, I decided to look through some of your things to see if something else was happening that I didn’t know about.”

The slip read “Avery Dance Studios.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say, “That’s the name of the computer place I’m working for.” I even constructed the entire lie in my mind. I’d tell him that even dance studios needed a data team and they just happened to be my employer. But I’d had enough of falsehoods. The studio, the dancing, my entire new life flashed before my eyes and I found myself saying to Pa, “That’s where I work.”

His voice was tightly controlled. “As what?”

“A dancer.”

He pulled his hand across his face. “How can you disgrace us like this?”

I stared at him until I understood what he meant. “I am not a stripper!”

“What are you then?”

“A dancer! Like Ma was.”

Everything about him stilled. “Don’t you talk about your ma like that.”

“I’m a professional ballroom dancer. Why can’t I compare myself to Ma? I’m her daughter.”

“Your ma was the most beautiful—”

I cut him off with a fierce whisper. “No one loved Ma more than I did, but you have to stop that.”

“What?”

“Stop making me feel like I’ll never be as good as she was. I’m not her, I’m me. And I have a right to be myself.”

He gentled. “I never meant to make you feel that way, Charlie.
Just, your ma was a trained classical dancer. Who would hire you as one?”

My voice was weak. “They didn’t. They took me on first as a receptionist but I was terrible.”

Pa stared, confused.

“So they gave me a job as a dancer.”

He scratched his forehead. “They’re crazy people.”

“Yes, they are. They taught me. I’m not bad. I teach lessons—waltz, tango, mambo.”

“Are you dancing with men? And what is this, then? Is this for lessons?” He waved the competition form in his hand.

I decided to pretend I hadn’t heard the men question. “No, I’m doing a show.”

“You are a showgirl! How can this be, my own daughter?”

“Pa! I have never given you any reason to—”

“I was too easy on you, I know it.”

It all flowed out of me. “You’ve always been living in your own world. You think that if you stick your head in the sand, everything will go away. Well, it won’t. I’ll tell you something. Winston and I already dated. He left me because he didn’t think I was cool enough. And I love to dance. It means everything to me. I’ve had to hide what I really did, what I actually cared about, for so long. But it’s my fault too. Maybe I should have given you a chance.”

Pa’s throat turned bright red. “You are not going to this competition show. This wild society, this America is no good for us. We need to go back home. Lisa has to return to China, and you too.”

“You see! This is why I could never trust you.” I felt the blood pulsing in my ears. Behind the anger, I was scared of losing everything: my dancing, Ryan. “I am doing the routine and I’m not going to China.”

“I am your father!”

“Hush! You’re going to wake Lisa. There is no way you can stop me from doing the competition or make me go to China. I’m an adult, Pa. You can’t dictate my life.”

He looked as if I’d slapped him. I hated how much this had hurt him, that he couldn’t understand.

“Then Lisa will. I will have Uncle book the tickets as soon as possible. I can save one of my daughters at least!” He opened the door and waited until I left his bedroom, then shut the door hard behind me.

R
yan went to Evelyn’s wedding. I couldn’t stop picturing them in my mind that entire weekend: Ryan dancing with Fiona, Ryan and his number with Evelyn, Evelyn and Trevor doing their wedding dance. I wondered how Ryan felt when he saw his girlfriend again. I would have been out of place there anyway. I’d only seen western weddings in films, with the bride in white, the Chinese color for mourning. If I ever married, I’d wear red and gold.

On Monday, all Ryan said was that it’d gone well and then he changed the subject. Evelyn and Trevor were on their honeymoon. A part of me had been afraid Fiona would come to the studio, but she didn’t appear. Ryan and I practiced nonstop. And then, the competition was upon us. The studio closed on Wednesday and the other dancers headed to the competition. I didn’t need to be there until the next day. Pa still wasn’t speaking to me after our fight. He was so angry while I packed to leave. I’d never seen him like this. Even so, I couldn’t still the hum of anticipation underneath my skin because Ryan would be picking me up soon.

On Thursday morning, Ryan would drive the both of us up to
Connecticut. I could have taken the train since the hotel was very close to the station, but he’d insisted. I was ashamed of how it thrilled me to think of being in a car alone with him.

As I left the apartment with my suitcase, Lisa said in a small voice, “I hope you win, Charlie.”

I hadn’t even known that she’d been paying attention. I looked back at her, sitting in her usual spot on the couch, with her cane and walker by her side. I swallowed a lump in my throat. “I’m going to do my best.” I walked over and gave her a hug.

Instead of Ryan’s car, I saw the “Patrick’s Landscaping” van pull up in front of my building. Ryan waved at me and I ran out. After I’d thrown my bags in the back and settled in next to him, he said, “I hope you don’t mind. My car’s in the garage. The boss let me borrow this.”

I laughed. “Everything’s an adventure with you.” And we were off.

I enjoyed sitting up so high in the van, looking out over all the other cars. I understood now why Zan wanted to drive a truck. He had the air-conditioning on and it was wonderfully cool inside.

I said, “So tell me more about the wedding last weekend.” What I meant was, how are you and Fiona doing?

“Everyone was really impressed with our dancing. Evelyn was thrilled.”

I didn’t want to ask directly but I had to. “What did Fiona think?”

He gave an awkward laugh. “She was blown away. I think it made her feel a bit inadequate.”

I tried to pretend I was a professional with no feelings whatsoever. “She should probably take lessons sometime.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek, then I said it. “Maybe not with me.”

There was a pause. “Maybe not.” He was staring straight ahead through the windshield, then took a breath. “So . . . what type of men do you like?”

“What?! That’s quite a change of subject.”

“I mean, in some ways, I don’t know a lot about you. Do you get hit on by students a lot? Do you ever like any of them?”

“All the time. And no, not in that way.” It’d surprised me at the beginning but then I realized it was a type of automatic reaction. Some single men seemed to think they had to ask the dancer out, just as no one wanted to date the dishwasher. Ryan was the only one I found attractive, and in many ways, I considered him my partner, not a student. “But most students are tactful. They’ll beat around the bush a bit and if you don’t bite, they’ll stop. In the worst case, you can always tell them it’s just studio policy.”

“So what are dancers supposed to do if you’re not allowed to date the students?”

I looked at him in some surprise. Of course he wouldn’t know. “Dance with other professionals. Dominic’s been trying to match me up with another pro for a long time now.”

His smile seemed forced. “Any good candidates?”

“I haven’t looked yet. I’ve been so busy with our routine. There are a few I’m supposed to meet here.” Dominic had told me about a guy from the West Side studio, and another from Long Island.

“I guess two pros are a perfect match.”

“They can be.” I looked out at the moving traffic for a few minutes. We were crossing some bridge. I blurted out what I’d really been wondering. “Is Fiona still in town?” I needed to brace myself if she was going to show up in the audience.

“No.” Then Ryan was silent and we didn’t talk much more until we arrived at the hotel.

—

When we arrived in front of the enormous hotel, one of the doormen saw the van and tried to wave us through to the back, probably where the landscapers usually parked. I glanced nervously at Ryan and he shook his head for me not to worry, pulling the van up to the curb. I stepped out, then removed my dance costume from the back. The man took one look at the glittering dress in its transparent bag and said, “Oh, you’re one of the dancers for the competition. I’m so sorry.”

Ryan grinned as he pulled out his garment bag too. “Not a problem.”

Already, other doormen were holding the massive doors open for us. I stared in awe when we entered the grand hotel. A pianist played quietly next to a waterfall over pale marble shot through with gold threads. Everyone there seemed so elegant and assured. I tried not to stutter when I gave the hotel clerk my name. I’d never done this before. The clerk told me Nina had already checked in for the room I was sharing with her. All of the dancers doubled up with each other, and I was grateful Nina would be there with me. The clerk handed me my key, then Ryan checked in for his single room.

I said, “Do you want to meet back here soon?”

He smiled. “I thought I’d be on my own.”

“I’m supposed to take care of you.” Dominic had told us we were to stick to our competition students like glue.

“I’m glad there are some perks to being a student.”

We walked deeper into the hotel toward the elevators, and I saw a flock of women in brightly colored ball gowns coming toward us, checking Ryan out and giggling. I looked up to find him studying me. He hadn’t even noticed.

He said, “So I guess this is our last dance together, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I busied myself with my bags, trying to hide my emotions. When I finally glanced at him, he was wearing his neutral expression again. He took our bags and we went to the elevators.

When the doors opened, a woman wearing a white bathrobe and slippers was standing inside the elevator. By the way she held the robe closed, I could tell she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Although her makeup and heavy mascara were smudged, I recognized her as one of our students. She said, “You have to try the sauna before you leave. It’s fantastic.”

I only had a vague idea of what a sauna was. “Where is it?”

“Downstairs, by the pool. Nothing will relax you better than all that steam after a hard day of dancing and stress.”

I was completely out of my depth. I’d never been in either a hotel or a sauna. It was like the first day I stepped into the studio for my job interview, where everything was new and everyone else seemed so comfortable. Now the studio was like home to me, but this hotel and the people in it made me feel inexperienced and insignificant. How could I possibly think of competing here? We would place last, we’d be the laughingstocks of the entire session.

Someone squeezed my arm. It was Ryan and his eyes were kind. “Don’t look like that. I believe in you. Together, we’re going to be just fine.”

I nodded, relaxing a bit. Sometimes it was like Ryan could read my mind. I only had time to give him a grateful look before the elevator doors opened again. It turned out our rooms were on the same floor, only at opposite ends.

“Are you all right with your bags?” He was always such a gentleman. How I hated lucky Fiona.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I’ll meet you back here at the elevators in ten minutes, okay?” The thought of Ryan accompanying me to my room was too tempting.

He gave me a nod, then strode off to his own room.

I had to fumble with the room key for a while before I figured out how to open the door. Nina wasn’t there. She was dancing so many heats with Keith, she was probably already on the dance floor. I opened the closet door and an explosion of sequins and feathers greeted me. She’d hung up her gowns—she needed several different ones for the events. The bathroom was littered with false eyelashes, makeup, glitter, bottles of hair spray and bobby pins. Good old Nina. It reminded me of our teachers’ room, and I felt better seeing this evidence of the ballroom world I knew. I hung up my competition dress, quickly stashed away the rest of my things, then went out to meet Ryan.

—

The main ballroom was enormous and packed with men in black tie and women in ball gowns. Every size, color and shape were there. I sucked in a breath. I hadn’t understood the scope of the ballroom world. So many incredible dancers and students, and I had no idea how it all worked. The men who were competing had numbers pinned to the back of their tuxedos or black shirts, while stunning women swirled around them. A voluptuous woman in a bright orange Latin dress was doing a sensual samba with her teacher. Video and professional photo cameras were set up all around the edges of the ballroom, their lights dazzling my eyes. Stands selling dresses, shoes, bags, every dance accessory imaginable, lined the walls.

“Come on,” said Ryan, shouldering his way to an empty table on the edge of the dance floor.

From there, we could see the competition. To the right, the couples for the next heat were already being lined up. We were in the middle of a series of Latin events. “Oh, there’s Nina and Keith.” I was so glad to see their familiar faces as they were waiting to go on.

The heats began. There were so many couples on the floor because this was nationals, and every Avery Studio in the country was represented. We watched as heat after heat was danced. I felt more comfortable as I analyzed the dancing and was grateful I’d been trained in such a good studio. Some were excellent and some were poor. I was glad to see no one was as good as Nina and Keith. It was grueling, even to watch.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to find Julian, very handsome in black tie. “Charlie and Ryan. So pleased you’re here.”

“Oh, I’m happy to see you, Julian,” I said warmly. In my peripheral vision, I noticed conversations around us pausing as people concentrated on Julian and us. Even Julian’s reflected glory was heady.

Ryan nodded, trying to stay polite.

“Don’t miss the party tonight. Penthouse at ten p.m.” Julian turned to Ryan. “Sorry, pros only.” Then with a little pat on my shoulder, he left. I watched him go, saw other heads turning as he passed by.

Ryan’s jaw was clenched. “He just has to rub it in.”

“What?”

“That you’re invited and I’m not. That I’m not a professional, and therefore not supposed to be with you.”

“I don’t think he worries about us that much.”

—

I went to the party together with Nina. I kept thinking about the fact that Ryan was somewhere in the hotel but I knew it was better to focus on other things.

“You should find yourself a pro tonight,” Nina said as she put on her makeup for the party. “If you need the room, just let me know.”

“For what?”

“Sex, what else?”

“Where would you go?”

She shrugged. “I’d bunk with another dancer. We always help each other out.”

“I’m not going to be needing the room.”

“We’ll see. You haven’t been to a professional party yet.”

—

The penthouse was filled with dancers. Women were leading other women, men leading men, and of course, men and women together. A rap song was blasting at full volume. We passed Mateo dancing up a storm with a man I didn’t know. Mateo saw us, gave us a wink and a kiss, then said to his big handsome partner, “Okay, baby, I’m leading now,” and they switched leads. The other guy kicked his heels back in a flip as Mateo dipped him. An old friend of Nina’s grabbed her when the music changed. She winked at me as she was whisked away. I didn’t know what to do. Everyone else had years of history together. I wasn’t sure I should have come.

Now Adrienne was at the stereo, changing the music and calling, “Hustle time!” Dominic took her in his arms and they started spinning and breaking at high speed. I’d never seen them dance together before. They were incredible.

Then someone took me into dance position and I found myself face to face with Julian. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, looking much younger than I’d seen him, and he was more attractive than ever. I felt as if I’d been picked by the prince himself. It took me a second to figure out the hustle steps, but once I understood it was similar to western swing, I caught on pretty fast. Julian could move. It was so effortless, I could let myself go, trusting my body to his magical hands. I must have been glowing with pleasure.

I tilted my head and asked, “How am I doing, coach?”

“Beautifully.” He had such a sexy smile.

The music changed to cha-cha and I said, “My turn to lead.”

Julian grinned as he took the lady’s part. Of course, he was as light and fast as the best woman I’d ever danced with. I felt as if I’d been driving around in a rusty old heap my entire life and now sat behind the wheel of a Lamborghini. I had only to give him the slightest tap and he spun like a dervish. Then the music changed and he took me in dance hold again. We were dancing number after number together, and I knew people had noticed, but I was enjoying myself so much, I didn’t care. When I was with Julian, I was someone, I belonged.

As the night went on, the dances became more intimate until I found myself backed against a darkened corner, doing the lambada with Julian. He had one hand braced against the wall, holding a glass of champagne. Our hips were rocking together in tiny circles, while his other arm was wrapped around my waist. He leaned forward, then brought the champagne glass to my lips and fed me another sip. My eyes fluttered closed. The party, the dancing, Julian. It was so intoxicating. I didn’t want to think or worry anymore: Pa, Lisa, Ryan all seemed like heartaches I could ignore, if only for one night.