Page 18 of Worth the Fight

I could scoff at that. I know she will be perfect, as usual, but I can hear the doubt filling her voice. “You’ll kill it, I know you will. I’m sure you’ve been pushing yourself at rehearsals. I’d be willing to bet when you’re lying in bed at night, you’re going over the moves in your head.” She used to do that back in the day. She’d be lying next to me, somewhat asleep, and her feet would be quietly shifting under the bed, half dancing while she dozed.

“Maybe.” I can hear her corresponding grin over the line.

There’s a comfortable silence then. The same kind that used to be there during our phone calls. There’s no need to fill the void, no rush. Sometimes, I just liked being on the phone with her while she got ready. I could hear the music in the background and her soft mumbles as she talked to herself. But my eyes are growing heavy, and I’ve learned this last month that if I have time to actually sleep when the baby sleeps, I need to take advantage of that.

“I better let you go then. Get your stretches in before class. But have a great day, Mags. Good luck tonight, and … well, I’m excited to see it, that’s all.”

“Thanks. Talk to you later sometime?”

I crawl in bed, not even bothering to get under the blankets. As soon as my cheek hits the pillow, I know it’ll be lights out in seconds. “Of course.”

Just as my mouth opens to say good night, Mags says, “And, Lukas?”

“Hmmm?”

“Thanks again. And … I’m glad you called.”

CHAPTER 13

Magnolia

There’s a nervous anticipation bubbling under my skin tonight.

It’s not a bad energy—not a trembling one like I used to get before my first few performances with a new company.

This one is more buzzing, humming. A raw energy, one that’s deep in my gut, oozing out to my limbs and lighting me up from within.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and even though my focus is on my hair and the bobby pins that are held between my teeth, I find myself smiling.

“Are you excited for tonight?” Jessie asks as she walks by, leaning down to squeeze my shoulders and rest her cheek against mine. “Magnolia Banks, prima ballerina!”

I smile so wide that the bobby pins fall from my mouth and land on the table in front of me. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing those words.”

Maybe that’s why my nerves are a little raw tonight.

Maybe it’s because the dream I’ve had since I was three years old is happening right now. I am the lead, the prima ballerina in one of my new favorite plays. I’ve been an understudy for months, hoping that I’d get the chance to dance center stage as more than a background dancer or soloist.

But I never would’ve expected that when I hung up with Lukas this morning and arrived at the company rehearsal that they’d announce to the class that I am the principal dancer in The Lady of the Cameillas for not only tonight, but over the next few weeks.

I snag one more bobby pin from the table and strategically stick it in my very tightly braided bun. With a heavy dose of hairspray, I shake my head, ensuring that nothing will come loose.

When I stand to inspect my dress, Jessie turns to look at me, and a smile spreads across her face.

“You look fantastic, Magnolia.”

I run my hands over the flowing deep violet skirt. It features a fitted bodice, ruched sleeves that expose my shoulders, and delicate lace details. The entire dress is violet, with the exception of a singular red camellia pinned to the neckline. The dress is one of the most iconic gowns Marguerite wears, and as I take in my fully finished form in the mirror, I can’t help but wonder … what will Lukas think of it?

I don’t know when the last time Lukas saw me dance in person was—when he was actually sitting in the audience, seeing it, and hearing the orchestra play along with us. Those performances were always my favorite, even when we were in high school. Knowing that he was somewhere out there, his eyes glued to me, watching my every move…

I love him seeing me do what I love.

He said he found recordings of my old performances, which surprised me. For the most part, he’s always been supportive of my career, but a part of me died when his words became cruel. The spark that I carried with me was snuffed out that night he called and criticized how hard I had worked.

I know that was a part of Lukas that he’s dealt with … or is dealing with. I know he’s sorry for what he said, but to hear someone you love so deeply mock the one passion in your life, well, it took me a long time to find that spark again.

There is a long road ahead of us, and I can’t say for certain if it’ll ever lead somewhere good. The better part of me is still surprised that I’m even considering this friendship with him, let alone going back to where we once were. But just like the spark I had to find for dance again, the spark I had to find for Lukas is there, too. Maybe not bright enough to be seen, but I know it. I feel it.

So, tonight, knowing he wants to watch my dances without me asking, begging, without me having to hold his hand to show him where or how to find them online, that reminds me of something the old Lukas would have done.