“Smart.” My parents owned the only dry cleaning business in town – December Dry Cleaners. It was around the corner from the Sleigh Café. “When does this boutique open?”
“You could have slid into the Rockettes,” Mom was saying, apparently oblivious to the rest of us. “I still can’t believe you didn’t make the cut this year for the show.”
I could believe it. It was hard to dance full-out and smile when you had a stress fracture in your foot. But I couldn’t tell Mom that. She’d send me to bed with an ice pack, and a rehab plan. I may not have known what came next for me, but I did know I wanted to helm that decision myself.
“Your mother wants to call the shop Bells & Bows Boutique.” Dad mashed his potatoes with his fork as if they’d somehow offended him. “I’m partial toAuld Lang Syne. You know, a play off the song about times gone by.”
“Why can’t she just call it Marlene’s Dress Shop?” Tim muttered my way. “Just because we live in Christmas Mountain doesn’t mean everything needs a Christmas-themed name.”
“I think you’re missing the point of living in Christmas Mountain,” I told him.
“Now’s the time to bounce back, Allison.” Mom sliced her meat into toddler-size pieces. She believed the smaller the food portion, the easier it was to digest, kind of like my attitude toward family visits. “While other, non-committed dancers are taking time away and checking boxes on their gift lists, you and your agent should be pounding the pavement and pouncing on any opportunity.”
Ugh. It didn’t matter how old I was, she would always be a stage mother. Pushing-pushing-pushing.
It made me feel trapped.
My foot throbbed.
I must have made some sort of sound because Mom shot me a quick glance. “You’re right. Why rely on your agent? You can post some of your dance video on social media. Recycle some of your old audition tapes. I’ve scanned your friend and follower lists. You’re connected to a lot of directors and producers.”
My fork clattered on my plate. “I’m not reposting anything old.”
“Then we’ll have to choreograph something new. Something spectacular and share-worthy.”
Slim chance of that with my foot still tender.
I picked up my fork and stuffed a bite of potato in my mouth.
“Let the girl take a break and stay here for Christmas,” Dad said, frowning. “Allie hasn’t been home for the holidays in years. Wouldn’t it be nice if she danced in the Christmas Extravaganza?”
“No,” Mom and I said at the same time, although for different reasons, I’d bet.
“Allison is destined for greater things,” Mom said in a voice that brooked no argument.
I resented that voice because it marked a line I’d never successfully crossed. This was her proclamation. She’d made her decision and that was that. Discussion over.
“Let Allie stay, Mom. I hardly know my big sister anymore. We need this time together.” Tim sounded sincere, which was surprising. He was more than a decade younger than me, an oopsie-baby, and had been given all the things I’d been denied – like a lackadaisical upbringing and the most expensive, up-to-date electronics.
Why was he waxing sentimental about me?
“We should think about the west coast,” Mom said between tiny bites of her pot roast. “Lots of TV shows in Hollywood are using back-up dancers.”
“Shouldn’t you argue with her?” Tim was looking at me as if he’d just noticed I’d grown a second nose, one that needed blowing. “This is your life.”
I shook my head. We’d reached the point of no return. As of a few minutes ago, arguments about my dance career would fall upon deaf ears. My mom was giving a monologue. If I stayed silent and nodded my head if she looked my way, she’d consider her lecture effective. Any sign of disagreement and I’d be hounded for hours. Or days. Or worse, the entire drive to the bus station where she’d buy me a one-way ticket to wherever she thought I needed to go.
This was exactly why I hadn’t come home in five years. And now, I could see the flaw in my returning with a career decision ahead of me.
“I bet somebody needs a pretty girl to turn letters on a game show.” Mom had a faraway look in her eyes. “You could use some highlights in your hair. I’ll need to help you choose some music and help evaluate your choreography.” She sighed as if carrying a heavy burden. “Allison’s career is priority one. I need to put my plans to open the shop on hold until she’s back on track.”
The table fell silent.
Dad and Tim turned to me.
There was something going on here that I didn’t understand. Dad and Tim were giving me looks I couldn’t begin to translate, other than they didn’t want me to stand in the way of Mom’s boutique opening.
“You don’t have to do that, Mom,” I said dutifully, earning relieved looks from Dad and Tim. “If your dream is to open a boutique, you need to focus on that. I know where my career is headed.”