When the Music Stops (21 page)

After a final call to Lynne from a phone booth in Laurel, Marta shook her head as she returned to the car.

“Stay at my parents’ house. They’re gone for the day. I’ll make up an excuse for you if you want.”

Marta shook her head. “Just drive me there to pick up my clothes, then drop me off at the Rim View Inn. I can get myself to the airport in the morning.”

“That’s not necessary, Marta. Stay at my parents.”

Tears puddled in her eyes. “No. Please, just do this one simple thing for me.”

h

An hour later Marta stood in one of the motel’s rooms, gazing at a thin orange bedcover, same as when she’d first arrived in Billings. Only the view was different. This room overlooked the parking area.

She sat down on the bed and stared at the wall, seeing and feeling nothing beyond the draft of cool air slipping under the door. She pulled the bedspread around her shoulders and paced the small area.
Step, step, step, turn. Step, step, step, turn.

She opened the curtain. Snow filtered down, caught a breeze, and drifted upward. She closed the curtain and returned to pacing:
step, step, step, turn.

Darkness crept in around the edges of the curtain. When she looked out, the drifting flakes from earlier in the day swirled like mini tornadoes and covered the cars parked in the lot, making them appear like rumpled blankets under a white coverlet.

The bar and restaurant she’d remembered from last year were gone, replaced by a near-vacant room with vending machines offering potato chips, candy bars, and pretzels. Marta opened her purse. Two dollars and two bus tokens; she’d need to save them to get all the way home. She’d wait for the breakfast on the flight home in the morning.

Marta dialed Operator and placed a collect call home. No answer. She tried Lynne; still no answer, so she returned to her room and paced.
Step, step, step, turn.

When she tired of pacing, she looked out the window one more time, then climbed under the bedcovers. The trip that began with happiness and reunions shifted to confrontations and hurt feelings. Perhaps it was just as well she’d not seen Madame Cosper. Why open herself up to any further confrontations? She closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to arrive.

Darkness. Coldness. A strange sensation shivered through her body. She dreamed she stood on The Rims as she’d done in dreams so many times before. Suddenly a hand reached out and pushed her. The loose gravel beneath her feet propelled her forward. Falling, falling, spiraling like a helicopter, she twisted toward the rock-strewn base. Crash!

She fell off the bed, grazing her head against the sharp corner of the bedside table. A trickle of blood stained her hand. She allowed her tears to flow, hoping they’d stop the deep ache tearing at her heart. 1959 was not beginning as she’d hoped.

h

Evening had settled in by the time Marta landed at Sea-Tac airport, caught a bus into Seattle, and took the ferry back to Bremerton. She rode the nearly empty city bus to Lafayette, then walked along the narrow, twisting road to Corbett Drive, feeling the weight of her suitcase pull through her arms while the weight of her conversation pulled at the rest of her body.

Her little house sat in darkness as though the trees wanted to protect her. Inside the house a dampness swept through every room, matching the icy coolness of her mood. She dumped her suitcase inside the door, took off her coat and crawled under the bed covers. She expected to drop into an exhausted sleep, but the way she’d left things with Steve kept her awake much of the night. She couldn’t erase the expression on his face when he challenged her about the diet pills and the way he turned away and left her standing in the cabin. Had she broken their relationship beyond repair over a couple of linty pills?

11

B
ang, bang, bang.

“Marta? Honey? Are you there?”

Marta woke with a start. Morning light filtered in around the edge of her bedroom shade. She threw back her bed covers and hurried to the front door. When she saw her mom’s anxious face, she realized she’d forgotten to call her.

“Hi, Mom. Sorry I didn’t call you from the terminal. It was so late I didn’t want to wake you.”

Her mom frowned. “Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

“I am. Guess I’m not a good traveler.” Marta ruffled her hair and turned toward her bathroom. “Give me five minutes.”

“How was everyone? I hope you got to see Lynne and the others.”

Marta emerged carrying her dance tote. “I did. They’re all fine. Steve’s family had a party for me and invited the boarding house renters, plus Lynne and the little girls.”

“What a wonderful surprise! And how was Steve? Excited to have finished school?”

“Yes. Now he’s job hunting.” Marta grabbed her purse. “Let’s go. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” She held the door for her mom, then stopped to lock it.

In the car Marta yawned and closed her eyes. “I’m still tired. Have you spoken to Lindsay since Christmas?”

“No.” Her mom tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as she drove along Fifteenth and turned onto Callow. Marta felt her mom scrutinizing her. “Marta, is there some reason you’ve not mentioned Steve?”

She nodded and looked away. “Sorta. We’re taking a break. I really don’t want to talk about it right now.”

For the rest of the drive to the dance studio, neither spoke. As they entered, Marta headed upstairs rather than saying anything else to her mom. Lindsay wouldn’t be in until afternoon, so that gave Marta time to compose herself to face her first challenge, the eight women in the exercise class due to walk in any minute.

She stood at the
barre
doing
pliés
as the women chattered their way up the stairs. Their expected energy presented a challenge today. Best for her to paste on a performance smile until she’d managed her changing situation with Steve.

“Marta! How was your holiday?” asked Tricia.

“Great,” Marta said, smiling. “How about all of you?”

The consensus was everyone had great family times, the kids liked their gifts, and the dances at the country club were a success. “You should have seen our husbands dancing,” Trixie said. “Everyone wanted to know where they took lessons. We did as you requested, saying it was a special holiday offering from the dance studio.”

“Lot of good that did,” Lily Rose said. “Zandora Marcus hovered nearby, and when she heard us talking ballroom, she quickly hinted that her friend’s Arthur Murray studio offers ballroom dance lessons year round. She even passed out business cards for her friend.”

“That sounds like what I’d expect.” Marta winced at the mention of her ballroom classes in front of the four women who’d not been included. Too late to do anything about that now. She’d need to do something special for them soon to keep things even among the women. For now she put on the
barre
music. “Let’s get started.”

After a two-week break in classes, the women moved as stiffly as Marta felt. Their center work lacked energy, and their dancing to Buddy Holly’s “That’ll Be the Day” didn’t have its usual pizzazz. Thank heavens their need to concentrate helped Marta hide her fuzzy focus.

“Looks like we’re all a bit tired today.” Marta removed the record from the turntable and smiled. “Rest up. Dance around the house. See you Wednesday.”

As the women grabbed their towels and bags and exited, Lily Rose lingered. “Sorry. We forgot the other exercise class women and their husbands weren’t included in our little dance lessons. Let us make it up to them and you. At our next exercise class, I’ll suggest all nine of us go as a group to the country club to lunch. We want to hear all about your visit with your boyfriend.”

Marta clenched her jaw to hold back the tears that threatened. “Thanks for noticing and offering, but I’ve got several projects due for the dance studio. Could we do it another week?”

Lily Rose tipped her head and watched Marta’s face. “Sure. Whatever works for you. See you tomorrow when I bring Olivia to class.” She grabbed her exercise bag and left.

A sigh escaped Marta’s lips. She walked to the counter and unwrapped the 1959 calendar from
Capezio
, the dance shoe and clothing company. The dancers in the photo atop the calendar wore long white
Swan Lake
gowns with white feather headdresses cascading down the sides of their faces. Their white
pointe
shoes drew her eye to the advertisement. It read
Capezio: perfect fit every time.

Marta exhaled. Once she believed in perfect, but no longer. Nothing perfect about her life. The issues with Steve weighed on her, pushing aside any thought of returning to dance or working for perfection. She knew Lily Rose saw something wasn’t right, but Marta didn’t want to talk about it. By next week all might be back to normal, but she doubted that. At least she’d attempt to pull her life back into her usual routine and delay talking with the Pill Hill ladies even longer.

In the early afternoon Marta went downstairs to speak with Lindsay, who sat in her office looking through dance costume catalogs. Marta knocked on her open door.

“Hi, Marta. Welcome back. Come in and clear off a chair.”

Marta moved the stack of catalogs to the floor and sat, waiting for Lindsay to start the conversation.

“I am so sorry about the Christmas programs. I really thought I had the flu. Guess it’s a common mistake for first pregnancies. But now you know what it takes to manage a dance studio. When you have your own studio someday, you’ll be somewhat prepared.”

Marta looked down at her hands and swallowed hard. “Lindsay, I’m not certain that’s what I want.”

“I know.” Lindsay put her hand on Marta’s. “Selfishly, I hate the thought that you might go back to performing, but you know I support you. It’s just that you are such a thoughtful teacher. Paige and Rosie are making great strides with your help.”

“Thanks for letting me work with them. I’m enjoying myself, except when Zandora sneaks up the stairs and thinks I don’t see her.”

“I can speak to her if you’d like.”

Marta shook her head. “It’s fine. I ignore her.”

Lindsay walked over and closed her office door. “Strange that you mentioned her. I don’t want her to know I’m trying to buy this building. I’ve mentioned this to your mom, so I want us to be careful where we talk about anything related to my plans.”

“Got it.” Marta’s enthusiasm came from her sincere interest in the studio. “This is such a great location. I’m excited for you.”

“It is. Adam thinks Bremerton is a good place to settle down, and if we buy the building, we’ll have a permanent home for the dance studio. I’m tired of the owner raising our rent every six months. That’s also news I don’t want Zandora knowing since I’ve heard she wants this space for her friend’s ballroom studio. I’m certain she’d try to interfere in our plans. Has she said anything to you about pulling Rosalia from classes?”

“No. She doesn’t often speak to me, since I’m that has-been dancer.”

“You’re anything but a has-been, Marta, and you know it. Anyway, the carpenter will start adding storage shelves upstairs and finishing the small apartment area after hours. I’m telling everyone it’s being done by the owner, which might be true very soon.”

Minutes later, Marta started her practice session, which usually erased any unresolved issues. But thinking about Zandora’s attitude toward her hung like a heavy cloud over her dancing. Could she have done anything to reverse Zandora’s opinion? Probably not. She could work harder to befriend her, ignore the digs, and keep a smile ready when that was the last thing she wanted to share.

Marta returned home and brought in the mail. She read the reminder note about having a phone installed next week and carried a postcard from Lynne inside to read with her afternoon cup of tea. She’d never caught up to her during the rest of her visit to Billings, so she expected Lynne would be mad or at least irritated by Marta’s not saying good bye.

Marta,

My Dad had a heart attack so I made a quick trip home on New Year’s Eve. He’ll be fine if he takes it easy. I know your days with Steve were all lovey dovey. Call me with the latest scoop on you two, if you ever install a phone!

Lynne

Marta dropped everything and rushed to her mom’s house to call Lynne. No answer. Of course she wasn’t there. She’d be at practice at the ballet company. She wished there was a way to leave her a message, but there wasn’t, so she’d need to wait until evening and try again.

At home she put the postcard in her bedside table and returned to her living room to sit and rock. When she closed her eyes, she replayed Steve’s face as she turned down his proposal. Add to that his reaction when he found out she continued to take diet pills. Would he ever forgive her for her decisions? Did he mean he’d wait only if she gave up the pills? Could she give up the pills? Of course. Did she want to give them up was a bigger question. They provided an easy solution to her stress. Seeing Steve’s reaction, she knew she needed to stop taking them if she wanted him to continue to be in her life.