The girl buries her head in her aunt’s side.
“I’m sorry, Violet takes a while to warm up to new people,” Claire says apologetically.
I straighten and turn my smile to her. “Not a problem. I’m sure we’ll be friends soon.”
The door opens and some more students walk in. After taking a minute to greet everyone, I head to the front of the studio and clap my hands lightly.
“Okay dancers, let’s make a big circle in the middle, please, we’re going to start with a song!”
Teaching two- and three-year-old kids is definitely not easy. It’s more like herding cats most of the time. But damn, they sure are cute. We play with colourful scarves, sing songs, and spin around on our toes. I can’t stop my eyes from finding Violet constantly. She’s adorable but so shy. I notice how reluctant she is to join in, no matter how much her aunt encourages her. But then, the song that haunts parents everywhere comes on, and she lights up.
“Okay everyone, time to pretend we’re all baby sharks!” I start to weave my way around the room, one hand up on my forehead for my shark fin. “Wiggle your body like you’re swimming! Now we’re mommy sharks! Who’s going to sing with me? Doo doo doo doo doo doo!” I look over at Violet, and finally, she’s smiling, even if she is still clutching Claire’s hand tightly.
Before I know it, my playlist starts the song that I always end each little kid class with, and I mentally sigh in relief. I made it through, emotions intact.
I’m in the middle of cleaning up and shifting to setting up for my next class when I hear a soft voice. “Thank you, Miss Serena, Violet and I had a lot of fun, didn’t we?”
I turn just in time to see Violet give me the smallest of nods.
“You are so welcome. Violet, you are a wonderful dancer. I hope to see you again at the next class.”
“Oh, you will,” Claire answers, giving me a warm smile. “I think this is exactly what Violet needs.”
“Will her parents be bringing her or just yourself?” I ask cautiously, hoping like hell Claire doesn’t know why I’m asking. Her face turns down in a frown as her gaze drops quickly to Violet and then back to me.
“It’ll mostly be me. Vi just moved here with her dad; he’s the new deputy police chief, so he’ll be working a lot. But I know he wants to come whenever he can." She looks down indulgently at the little girl, squeezing her hand.
He did it. Leo did it.
Hearing his aunt say he’s the new deputy police chief fills me with pride. His dream of following in his father’s footsteps came true, and even though I am so happy for him, I’m also incredibly sad that I wasn’t there to see him achieve his goals. But it’s strange Claire didn’t mention the little girl’s mom.
“Well, it’s wonderful that you can bring her,” I say brightly. “I’ll see you next week.”
We wave goodbye, and when the studio is finally empty, I let my head fall forward with a loud sigh. I’ve got twelve preschoolers arriving any minute, so any emotional break down will have to wait until later.
But later, when I push open the door to Camille’s, the café Mila opened in honour of her mom, any hope I had of grabbing lunch and going next door to Paige’s bookstore, which funny enough is called Pages, to freak out with my best friend is overshadowed by what I find.
My eyes greedily drink in the sight of Leo in uniform. I never got to see this, him living his career dream of being a cop. He fills it out perfectly, and since he hasn’t noticed me, I take my time, my gaze traveling over broad shoulders that fill out the crisp blue shirt of his uniform, down the tapered line of his back to that ass. Damn. He still has his baseball butt. Leo played all through high school, and it’s true what they say — ball players have the best butts.
Suddenly, he turns, and my eyes flash up to meet his. Crap, he caught me ogling, evident by the tiniest smirk he’s wearing.
“We keep running into each other.” His voice is low, smooth, and still does something to my insides despite all the time between us.
“It’s a small town. Bound to happen,” I reply, the words coming out all breathless and weird sounding. I clear my throat and straighten my spine. I can’t run away again, not like I did the other night at the store. No, it’s time to default to my usual mode. Facing problems head on. “I just finished teaching your daughter’s dance class.”
The play of emotions across his face is fascinating. I see everything from love, to concern, to guilt.
“I wondered if it was you teaching. What happened to becoming a professional dancer?”
The familiar pang of sadness at the loss of my dance career hits me. Of course, Leo doesn’t know how my life fell apart for the second time. Adopting an unaffected tone, I give the explanation that, over the years, I’ve found leads to the least amount of pity and questions.
“I was with the Winnipeg Ballet for a couple of years after finishing up my degree. But a wrong landing led to ankle surgery, which kind of ended my career unless I wanted to go from soloist to corps de ballet. So, yeah, here I am teaching instead.”
His eyes, those deep green eyes that used to look at me with nothing but adoration, melt into pity. God, I hate that.
“I’m sorry, Serena. That fucking sucks.”
I lift one shoulder and try to pass it off as anything but the life-altering injury that it was. But his sympathy is genuine and touching. “No big deal, I’m happy now.” Emphasis on thenow…but he doesn’t need to know that.