Mambo in Chinatown (7 page)

At the studio, I’d grown more comfortable since Estella left. Simone still intimidated me but she kept more to herself. The class of potential new dance teachers had recently petered out: Adrienne and Dominic had narrowed it down to three people, but then all of them had dropped out for one reason or another. One had gotten a job at another dance studio, another decided to move out of New York, and they couldn’t reach the last one at all. Now they had decided the upcoming period was too busy with ballroom shows and preholiday preparations to start another audition process, so they would wait until after the New Year to hire someone.

Adrienne was in the office every day at seven months pregnant. And I was still making mistakes. When I was under stress, I would sometimes forget how all of the buttons on the phone worked.

I had so much trouble with writing things down that Adrienne had said one day casually, “I think you may be dyslexic. Have you ever considered that?” I remembered a teacher in high school had mentioned that possibility to me as well, had wanted to talk to Pa about testing he’d need to approve. But Pa had been too nervous to come to school and I didn’t want Uncle Henry or Aunt Monica to think I was somehow damaged goods, so I’d told Pa that the problem had been solved. I couldn’t even really explain what dyslexia
was to him either, since I wasn’t sure myself. But in any case, it was not a positive sign if your boss thought you might have a learning disability.

I overheard Dominic talking to Adrienne about me in the office next to the reception area. “She cut off Giovanni on the phone.” Giovanni was the Avery head of our entire region.

“No. Was he angry?” Adrienne sounded horrified.

“He seemed to think it was funny. Said she had a sexy voice but maybe we should hire someone who could actually do the work.”

“Sexy?”

“I know, but on the phone you can’t see how she’s hiding in her baggy clothing.”

I was mortified. I’d hoped the glamour of the studio had rubbed off on me and that I was becoming a bit stylish since starting work there. Aunt Monica had told me I was too boyish and muscular, so I tended toward clothes that helped compensate. Pa taught me to cover my legs at least below the knee, midcalf if possible, and now that it was cold out, I was wearing a few layers underneath my clothing to add to my thin coat. I spent as little as possible on my own clothing, knowing how important it was for Lisa to look nice at school and fit in with the other girls. I didn’t want her to be as unpopular as I’d been. Most of my dresses and more formal clothes were hand-me-downs from Aunt Monica or leftovers the local ladies had saved for us from the garment factory.

Growing up, my only female role models had been Aunt Monica and Godmother Yuan, and even though I’d known Aunt Monica’s taste for shiny fabric and large flowers was not the epitome of elegance, it was probably unavoidable that it would influence me a bit. Zan and Mo Li weren’t much help either; then, they’d been just as clueless as I was. But it was obvious even to me that neither the dancers nor the students at the studio dressed the way I did. The
students’ clothing was plain but sleek, while the dancers, of course, wore flashier, more clingy clothing. It was so confusing. I’d never really cared about how I looked before. Once again, I longed for a mother I could talk this over with.

I remembered a time Ma and I had been at Aunt and Uncle’s house in Queens. I was about ten years old. It was before Lisa’s birth. We were waiting for them to come home and Ma had taken me into their bedroom, then opened Aunt Monica’s jewelry box.

“Should we?” I asked.

She’d giggled like a child caught in the act. “No. This is very naughty of us.”

Then she’d put a gold bracelet on her slender wrist and a jade necklace around my neck. She held up her arm, allowing the sleeve of the shirt she wore for waitressing to fall away, revealing the curve and muscle of her skin, her fingers unfurling like the petals of a flower as she watched herself in the mirror. Then with one arm high and one bent in front of her like a branch in the wind, she’d whirled into a series of turns, one after another after another, until suddenly she stopped with her arm still high, facing herself in the mirror. Even then, I understood it wasn’t the bracelet she longed for but the space that went with such a piece of jewelry, the room and time to dance again.

“I am like a little girl here, Charlie,” she said. “Playing at dressing up. Just the weight of this thing makes me remember.”

I’d hardly dared make a sound for fear of disturbing her strange mood. I was afraid to frighten her into silence again but I wanted to know. “What, Ma? What do you remember?”

She gave a little laugh and said, “Lights. The smell of powder. An empty stage and my arms and hair weighed down with jewelry and clips. Everything made to catch the light.”

“Like you,” I said.

She’d caught me up in her arms then and held me. “You, you are my light-catcher.” And then she’d tickled me until I couldn’t breathe and when we were done, we both put back the pieces of jewelry we’d borrowed.

Even now, I wished I’d been old enough to buy her jewelry, to dress her up one more time before she died.

—

Then I made another big mistake. I’d booked Simone for the beginners’ group class on Tuesday evening but didn’t realize she had an extra lesson with her private student Keith then. They were getting ready for an upcoming showcase at the Copacabana and she couldn’t move him. And now no one else was free to teach the group, either. This emerged at the Monday meeting, and to make things worse, dance coach Julian Edwards was present because he had to finalize details for the show with the dancers.

“Who is responsible for this?” Dominic roared.

I could feel everyone trying not to look at me.

“I’m really sorry,” I said.

“This is the final straw, Charlie,” he said. “We gave you a chance but there have been so many issues.”

Adrienne laid a hand on his arm. “We’re already looking for a new dancer, Dominic. Unsuccessfully, I might add. Let’s not have to find a new receptionist at the same time, okay?”

Dominic took a deep breath. “This is a big problem. We are understaffed. The class tomorrow evening, it is already booked full and there’s no one to teach it. All those prospective students. Can’t anyone move their private students?”

Everyone looked away. My heart was pounding from my
near-firing. I would be back at my old dishwashing job soon. I would have to leave the studio, Nina, the whole ballroom world.

Mateo spoke up. “It’s one of our busiest nights. Everyone’s got their regulars coming in then and the show is this weekend. We can’t reschedule anyone right before the Copacabana event.”

There was a pause, then I made myself speak. “Is there anything at all I could do to fix this? Maybe I could help teach it?”

“What?” Dominic cocked his head as if he was sure he’d misheard me.

My cheeks were on fire. “I don’t know. Never mind. I really want to help if I can since it’s my fault. It’s just that I’ve assisted in tai chi classes . . . I thought . . .”

Nina said, “I think it’s a good idea.”

“She’s not a dancer.” Dominic shook his head.

“Maybe true,” Nina said slowly, “but they’re all beginners. No one could be worse than they are. All we do is show them a few basic steps. A walrus could teach the class and they wouldn’t know the difference. I’ve done it. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.”

I felt dizzy and cold all at once. What had I done? I couldn’t teach ballroom. Were they really considering it?

Adrienne murmured, “It’s an idea.”

Dominic said, “Adrienne, I love you more than life itself but when it comes to the dancing I must decide. Absolutely not.”

Adrienne continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “How could we cover Charlie’s job?”

Nina said, “We can put the phone on the answering machine then. Most of the check-ins at that time are for the group class anyway. We all welcome our own students for that lesson, and Charlie checks off the students in the group as they come in. Problem solved.”

“I didn’t mean to teach it alone,” I said. “Just that maybe I could help.”

Adrienne said, “Well, there’s no one to do it with you, Charlie. Dominic and I are both booked to give coaching sessions then. You’d be on your own.”

Dominic said, “I am artistic director here and I am putting my foot down.”

“Are you trying to upset a very pregnant woman?” Adrienne patted her large stomach. “Sweetheart, this is just a temporary solution. It could work for this one time.”

Dominic looked like he was having trouble swallowing. “Darling, I can’t allow this. We have standards to maintain.”

To my surprise, Nina got up and walked over to me. She knelt at my feet and slipped off my pumps. “Dominic, take a look at this.”

She stared at my Magic-Markered pumps in her hands with disgust. “What have you done to your shoes?” Then she tossed them aside and stretched out my foot, pulling up the material of my pants so you could see my leg. “Point.”

“What?”

“Point your foot.”

I did, my toes lengthening, the arch high and pronounced as it always was, just like Ma’s had been.

She held my foot and turned my leg out. “Don’t sickle your feet inward, turn them outward.” Then she looked at Dominic as if this said it all.

Everyone was staring at my foot. “How did you know?” Dominic asked her.

“She takes off her shoes underneath the desk at the end of the day,” Nina said.

Dominic walked over to me and said, “Stand up.”

When I did, feeling awkward in my shoeless feet, he held one of
my arms out to the side. “Could we possibly get some of this clothing off?”

I was wearing a thick button-up sweater over a thin man’s undershirt that I’d stolen from Pa.

“May I?” he asked.

I glanced at Nina for a moment. She nodded slightly, so I started to unbutton my sweater, conscious that I was wearing only a worn tank top underneath.

After I’d slipped my arms out of the sleeves, Dominic looked at me impassively, like a doctor. “Stand up straight. Hold out your arms.”

I held in my breath and stood as Ma had taught me all those years ago. Shoulders down, arms held from the back, neck long.

“Make a fist,” Nina said.

When I did, I could feel the muscles in my arms and shoulders tense. The entire circle of dancers was still.

“She can beat you up, Dominic, better watch what you say,” said Mateo.

“Where did you get a body like this?” Dominic asked.

“Dishwashing. I’m more bony than anything else.”

Nina said, smiling, “I couldn’t believe it either when I first saw her. She spilled coffee on her shirt and I loaned her my sweater. And those feet.”

I looked down at my toes. “What about my feet?”

Katerina spoke up. “I would kill for feet like yours. Any dancer would.”

I didn’t understand. They were the same feet that had stood at a sink for years.

Dominic said, “Why in the world do you dress the way you do?”

My expression must have shown my hurt.

He ran his hand over his face like he was in pain. “Even if we do
entertain this ridiculous idea for a moment, who could possibly teach her the basics? Simone?”

Simone threw up her hands. “Come on, why me? I’d miss the dance session with Julian. She’s not a dancer. Look at her!”

Nina took a breath, her eyes flashing, but before she could speak, a voice came from the corner.

“I’ll do it,” said Julian. He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, inscrutable.

There was a collective gasp. Adrienne struggled to speak. I had never seen her at a loss for words before. “Julian, that is very kind of you but we need you for our own training today.”

“I have time afterward and I’ll do it for free.” Now we all gaped. I’d seen Julian’s checks and knew he charged five hundred dollars per lesson.

I spoke the thought on everyone’s mind. “Why would you possibly do such a thing?”

He smiled. “When you get to be where I am, you’ve seen it all. I’ve held so many international titles, coached almost every top professional dancer. I enjoy a new challenge. It would be interesting to teach someone fresh. Someone with potential.”

Everyone was now staring at me. Julian Edwards had labeled me as someone with potential. Simone looked like she had something unpleasant in her mouth, but Nina had the biggest grin on her face. I could feel my heart in my throat, a distant thin pulsing.

Dominic said to Julian, “You are trying to kill me, old friend.”

Julian’s eyes were filled with mischief. “And enjoying every moment too.”

Adrienne said, her face blank, “That’s settled then. Nina, you’re going to talk clothes with her, then Julian can try to teach her a few steps.”

“Clothing?” I said.

Adrienne said slowly and carefully as if I were stupid, “You won’t be sitting behind a desk. Even for one class, you’re part of the dream that is Avery Studios. You need to look the part. As much as you’re able.” She shifted her gaze to Nina. “Good luck.”

A
fter the meeting broke up, Nina took me into the teachers’ room. “I need to join that dance session so I don’t have a lot of time. But I can’t wait to get you into something else. You’ll need it to dance with Julian.”

She brought her hands down and felt the ridges of my pelvic bones through the heavy pants I was wearing. “You’re half the size of these things.”

“I know you would have helped me even if Julian hadn’t spoken up. I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” Nina’s smile was lovely. “Let’s get you out of your clothes. No offense, but where do you get this stuff?”

I felt awkward. “Mostly hand-me-downs.”

“You look like a matron.” Nina was examining my reflection in the full-length mirror.

“That’s who the clothes came from.”

She started to laugh. “You need some better friends, honey.” She walked to her locker, dug through her bag, then pulled out a soft
blue garment. “Try this on. It’s one of my rehearsal dresses. It’s clean and Lycra, so it should fit you. Don’t be shy. It has built-in panties so you need to step into it.”

I tried not to look her in the eyes as I stripped down to my plain cotton bra and underwear. “Will anyone come in?”

She walked over to the door and stood with her back to it but her eyes were unwavering as she watched me. “Will you look at that?”

“What?”

“I still cannot believe how much crap you were wearing over that body. Stop a moment.”

Nina walked over to me and stared at my bra, which was also a hand-me-down from Aunt Monica. I’d never noticed how it fit before. I knew my aunt was bigger in front than I was, but I thought I’d fixed that by shortening the bra straps.

Nina poked her finger into the bra cup where it bulged around my breasts. “This is all empty air. That thing is way too big for you. When you wear a bra, your breasts are actually supposed to make contact with the cups.” She pulled out the frayed label from underneath the band, then stared at me and said, “Why on earth are you wearing a D cup? You’re probably like a B or less.”

“Someone gave the bra to me too, and I never paid much attention.” I stepped into her dress and slipped my arms into the sleeves.

We both stared at my reflection. The dress was much lower than anything I owned and I tried to tug the V-neck higher, to no avail.

“Stop that,” Nina said.

“I don’t want to show any cleavage.”

She peered at my chest. “You don’t have any. It’s just skin.”

The dress flowed down my body, ending halfway down my thighs and flaring out at the hem. Instead of making my body look sticklike, it made me curvier, more feminine. The low neckline
defined the line of my neck and arms. I’d hardly ever seen myself so exposed before. “I feel naked.”

Nina came and adjusted the dress a bit for me, pulling it more smoothly over my hips. “Come on. The others have to see this.”

When she dragged me into the main ballroom, barefoot, Mateo caught sight of me first and let out a long whistle. “Get a pair of heels on those legs.”

Julian paused the dance session he was teaching to the professionals. Everyone stared.

I fiddled with my skirt as Adrienne came out of her office and leaned against the doorway. “Well, what do you know.” She walked to me and looked me over. “What size shoe are you?”

“Seven and a half,” I said.

“She can’t teach without dance shoes,” Adrienne said. “I think she’ll kill herself in her usual pumps. Who’s close in size?”

Simone avoided our eyes. Katerina said, “I’m an eight. I’m only teaching smooth today. She can borrow my Latin shoes for the lesson.”

“Go get them,” Mateo said. “I gotta see her in them.” I looked in his direction to see Dominic and Julian looking at me. Julian had a faint smile on his face. Katerina went into the other ballroom, returning with a glittering pair of sandals in her hands.

I sat at one of the tables and Katerina put the shoes on my feet. The soles of the shoes were made of suede. One of the straps was so long, she wrapped it all the way underneath the bottom of the shoe before buckling it. She glanced up at me. “Don’t look so scared. They’re designed for speed and balance. That’s why the heel is set underneath the center of your foot’s heel instead of way back like some other shoes. You’ve got such high arches, they’ll fit you fine.”

Adrienne said, “Stay here and get used to those shoes, Charlie. Watch the dance session. Julian will teach you right afterward. I’ll take over your job until then.”

I stood up in the shoes, nervous, but when I walked a few steps, I realized I was much more stable than I’d ever been in regular heels. Instead of my ankles wobbling, my feet felt like they were solidly on the ground. From a distance the nude sandals appeared to be a part of my legs. I sneaked another glance at myself in the mirror. For the first time, I did not see a dishwasher.

—

Julian stood next to me so that we were both facing the mirror. Thank goodness we were in the smaller studio so we had a bit more privacy. I saw the other dancers pausing as they came close to our door, deliberately swinging their partners into dips so they could wink at me through the glass window.

“I’m going to teach you just a few steps. That’s all you’ll have time for. First we’ll do men’s, then ladies’ parts.”

“I have to learn men’s parts too? I’ll need to lead and follow?” This hadn’t occurred to me, although I had indeed seen the dancers teaching both genders. Somehow I’d had the idea that maybe the male teachers stepped in for that.

“You’ll be leading better than most men by the time we’re done.” Julian went to the stereo and turned it on. Sinatra started singing.

“This is a foxtrot,” Julian told me. “Listen to it. One, two, three, four . . . Can you find the beat?”

“One, two, three . . .” I’d never been good with rhythm.

“No, feel the music. Don’t worry about the numbers.” He came over and took my hand in his. His was large and warm. Dancers
always found it so easy to touch people. Pa avoided touching either of us if he could help it since it wasn’t proper. I tried not to flush.

Julian closed his hands around my forearms and had me do the same to his. “This is called double hand hold.” He closed his eyes and started swaying to the music with me. “Your music is not in your ears. It is in your partner. Listen to your partner.”

He waited until we were swaying together, then he took off his cuff links, set them on the stereo and folded up the sleeves of his shirt. I looked down and saw tattoos of dragons swirling up both of his arms, underneath his formal shirt. He linked his arm through mine.

“First get the class just to start walking. Remember, they’ve never done any ballroom before.”

“Neither have I.”

“Right. You’ll get along just fine then, won’t you?” He gave me a smile, then started strolling forward and backward, side by side with me, both of us starting with our right legs.

“Dancing is just like walking. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. If you can walk, you can dance. And if you can learn to walk properly, you can do any dance.”

“I’m not that good at walking either,” I muttered.

He heard me. “I bet you’re good at sports.”

I looked at him in surprise. I thought about my old gym classes at school. “I’m all right.”

“You’re extremely smooth. You’re already rolling through your feet. But your steps are too wide.”

I deflated.

He continued, “Lots of athletes have that. Like they’re trying to get a ball to the other side of the ballroom. Usually, they’re hairy gentlemen, though.”

I choked a bit as he looked at me sideways.

“So you’re special. As a dancer, you don’t have to arrive at a destination, you only have to travel beautifully.”

I pressed my lips together, dubious.

One side of his mouth tugged upward. He took me by the shoulders so that I faced the mirror. “You are lovely. Once you realize that, everyone else will be able to see it too.”

I felt my blush sweep up all the way to the roots of my hair.

“I didn’t know Chinese people could turn that color,” Julian said conversationally. Then he took my arm and started walking with me around the small ballroom again.

“Now take two steps forward and a little side step. Slow slow, quick quick. Slow slow, quick quick . . .” He had his hand on my back. Then he turned to the mirror and said, “Now watch me and imitate everything I do. Sidestep, then close your feet. Good.”

He started to show me the basic box. Thanks to learning movement in the tai chi classes, I could copy him pretty well, but after a few steps, I couldn’t remember if I was the man or the woman.

“Julian, which leg am I on now?”

His smile was enigmatic. “The leg is irrelevant. Remember, it’s not the steps. It’s the feeling. That is dancing. Amateurs, they dance steps.”

Julian let go of me and pretended to dance, jerking his arms and legs independently of his torso. “Left, right, left, right, like a robot.”

Then he integrated his body and became a great flowing animal again. He rippled from his stomach out to his chest and then through his arms and legs. “A true dancer dances center to center.” He drew a line in the air from his torso to mine. “We dance heart to heart. I am still amazed by the number of students who believe steps are dancing. The steps are nothing. A true dancer moves with her body, her center, her heart, and the legs are only there to catch her so she
does not fall. If the movement of the center is correct, the feet will be where they need to be.”

This I understood. Godmother had trained me for years to feel my center. I breathed in and found mine.

He put his hands on either side of my waist and swayed me so that I naturally took a step forward. It was my left leg I needed to stand on. That was clear now.

“There are two main types of ballroom dance: standard and Latin. In the U.S., those styles are called ‘smooth’ and ‘rhythm’ but people tend to use the terms interchangeably. Of course, there are technical differences between international and American style, which you don’t need to worry about yet. For now, there are two sorts of walk you’ll need to learn. A standard or smooth walk.” He released me and glided forward and backward on his feet, taking long, smooth steps that led with his heels.

“And a Latin or rhythm walk.” Now he pushed his weight onto his feet, rolling his hips, grinding his feet into the floor. “Do you see the damage on Katerina’s shoes?”

I looked down and nodded. The inside surfaces of both shoes had holes in them, although the sandals in general looked fairly new.

“They are the result of Latin technique.” He stood behind me, both of us facing the mirror. I didn’t want to think what Pa would say if he could see us now. I could feel the heat of Julian’s body behind me. He put his hands on my pelvic bones, at the corner of my hips. He had to bend down so his cheek was nearly next to mine, then shifted his legs together with mine. “One leg straight and one leg bent. Switch. Roll through your feet. Now, other leg. One straight, one bent.” He gently pushed my hips back and forth, rolling them. “Weight transfer and release. Hold your top still. Very good.”

He straightened and released me. My face, neck and ears must
have been glowing. “That is what Latin feels like. Like the heat of the sun on your body, while you’re drawing in the sand with your toes. Now, waltz.”

He took a few steps away from me. He stood proud and held his hand out to me as if he were a prince. My head swam. I went over to him.

“No,” he said. “Let’s change places for a moment.” He pretended to be me. “We begin a waltz like this.” He threw his head back, shoulders down, stomach in, extended his arm and glided over to me, then gently laid his hand in mine. He fluttered his eyelashes at me.

I laughed.

“Okay, once more.” We changed places so that he was once again doing the man’s part. I employed all of my muscles to glide over to him like he’d done. “Much better. Now, for the first time, we shall waltz.”

As we started to dance together, he looked at me with some surprise. “You move very well.”

It felt wonderful in Julian’s arms. I knew it was only because he was a world-class dancer, but it felt like being in love. When he held me, it was as if my body knew what to do without any thinking at all.

“You make me seem graceful,” I said.

“Do you think of yourself as not?”

“I’m clumsy. I drop everything. I can’t sew or cook.”

“Never confuse small and large motor coordination,” he said, spinning us through the room. “Many dancers are awkward with their hands. That has nothing to do with their bodies.”

“Really?” I thought about this for a moment. “Are you clumsy too?”

He broke dance position with his head to look directly at me. “I assure you I am highly skilled with my hands. Would you care for a private demonstration?”

Right. I shook my head quickly and kept silent for the rest of our dance. By the end of that lesson, I’d learned how to do the basic box and how to make it into rumba, foxtrot and waltz by changing the way my body moved. We’d covered the basic steps in swing, plus an underarm turn. I’d also done a simple turn in rumba and waltz. I looked up to see Adrienne watching us through the window in the door just before she stepped through it.

“You’re wonderful, Julian,” she said. “How is she?”

I stood there while they continued to talk about me as if I weren’t there.

“She’s a quick learner. Light on her feet,” he said. “Absolutely no ballroom technique at all, which is to be expected.”

Adrienne looked me up and down. “That doesn’t matter. Nina’s right, the beginners won’t be able to tell. We just need to get through this one class.”

Adrienne walked over to me and allowed me to take her in dance position, so that I was doing the man’s part. Her stomach bumped against mine. “Show me what you’ve learned.”

I took a deep breath, then did the steps Julian had shown me. I started doing a slow rumba box with her, then into an underarm turn. Despite needing to keep some distance between us because of her protruding belly, I could give her the lightest of impulses and she would execute the step, beautifully. I’d never seen a heavily pregnant woman move like this. Now that I’d tried to do the steps myself, I realized how good she was. She made it easy.