Grinding?
“Understandable, given what you’ve been through. We can make you a device to wear at night to prevent the clenching and grinding.”
“What kind of device?”
“Just something that fits over your teeth.”
“Suppose I don’t want a device?”
“Grinding can damage your teeth.”
Damage?
“We carry anxiety in different ways.”
Anxiety?
“Tell you what. We’ll recheck in a month to see how you’re doing. Okay with you, Miss Mirabelle?”
“Okay.”
“Good.” He smiled at her. “How come I haven’t seen you around our house lately?”
“I was there on the day of…on the day of…”
“Yes, I know.” He paused. “Well, I don’t want to spoil Natalie’s surprise. She’ll want to tell you herself. She’s in New York today, at dance class.”
“But I’ll see her tonight at bowling.”
“Since when does Nat bowl?”
“She’s our scorekeeper.” Natalie couldn’t take the chance of dropping a ball, or having someone else drop a ball on her foot.
“Ah, the scorekeeper,” Dr. O said.
—
AT THE BOWLING ALLEY that night, Mason was tender, making sure her shoes fit, squeezing to check for enough toe room, just like Mrs. Kolber, choosing exactly the right bowling ball for her weight. She’d always been hopeless at bowling but now, with a few pointers from Mason, she was improving. Robo was the best in their group, gliding to the line, right foot behind her left, with a follow-through every time. Miri was paying attention to Robo’s form, keeping a picture of Robo in her mind when it was her turn and it was starting to pay off. But soon Robo would be moving and Miri would have to find someone else to follow.
When Mason stopped by their station he ruffled Miri’s hair, making the other girls sigh. Mason called her new haircut “cute” but Miri knew he didn’t really like it. She assured him it would grow quickly, an inch a month, she’d heard, and just to be sure she’d already started to gently tug it, the way she did a pair of dungarees that had shrunk in the wash. She expected to be halfway there by summer, by the time of Henry and Leah’s wedding. She was waiting until invitations went out to ask if she could invite Mason to be her date.
Mason pointed to a barrel-chested man, bowling in the next lane. “Joey Politics,” he said. “He knows everybody and everything.”
The girls looked over for a minute but really, what did they care about somebody called Joey Politics.
She told Mason about meeting Polina at Dr. O’s office. “My mother’s going to ask Ben Sapphire if he can find her and Stash a place to live.”
“That’d be good.” And just like that, he leaned in and kissed her, the first time they’d kissed in public, in front of Suzanne, Eleanor, Robo and Natalie. Then he kissed her again, until his boss called, “Enough, lover boy. You got a line waiting for shoes and I need a pin boy in lane six.”
The girls teased her, humming the wedding march. “Have you set the date yet?” Robo asked.
“Stop!” Miri shouted, louder than she’d meant to, and they laughed, all but Natalie.
“It’s freezing in here,” Natalie said, wrapping a wool scarf around her neck. She was swathed in sweaters, and had her coat draped over her shoulders.
“If you bowled you’d be boiling,” Suzanne told her, stripping down to a cotton shirt with her name embroidered across the pocket, like the ladies who played in leagues.
Miri threw her first strike that night, which she took as a sign that every day something good can happen. And today was a bonanza—new shoes, Mason’s kisses and a strike.
Later, before Eleanor’s father picked them up, Natalie took her aside. “Come to my house tomorrow morning. I have something to show you.”
“Is it the surprise your father talked about?”
“He told you about the surprise?”
“Only that you have one. So what is it?”
“If I tell you it won’t be a surprise. And don’t say anything to the other girls, okay? I’m not ready to tell them yet.”
Miri remembered the last time she’d gone to Natalie’s, just her, and it turned out to be the worst day of her life.
—
THE SURPRISE WAS the finished basement. It had been transformed into a dance studio, with a mirrored wall, a barre and a wood floor. The jukebox still stood in the corner but instead of Nat King Cole and Patti Page, it held the kind of music you hear in movie musicals. Blue skies smilin’ at me…
“Isn’t it fabulous?” Natalie asked. “The floor is genuine maple, the best for tap.” She hummed and did a couple of warm-up steps, then stopped and looked at Miri. “Say something.”
“All the furniture is gone.” Miri knew that wasn’t what Natalie wanted to hear but she couldn’t hide her disappointment.
“That’s it?” Natalie asked, annoyed.
“No…I mean, it’s great. But…”
“But what?”
“I’ll miss the parties.” This is where she and Mason met and danced for the first time. She’d been hoping Natalie would host another get-together soon. Maybe for Valentine’s Day.
“We can still have parties,” Natalie said. “The furniture is in the garage. Daddy and Steve can bring it back in anytime. Not that I have time for parties these days.” Natalie pulled off one sweater, then another, and tossed them across the room. She stepped out of her dungarees and kicked them to the corner. Then she stood in front of the mirrored wall, in her long-sleeved black leotard, black tights, white little-girl socks trimmed in lace and black tap shoes with small heels and a Mary Jane strap. It had been ages since Miri had seen her without layers of clothing. The size of her took Miri’s breath away.
“Why are you staring that way?” Natalie asked.
“What way?”
“Like you’re in shock.”
“Well, I am, sort of. You’re so thin.”
“I know. Isn’t it great? Ruby’s been coaching me. I eat green grapes and drink a ton of water. Dancers have to stay hydrated.” Natalie posed. First position, second position, fifth position. “You know what I see when I look in the mirror?”
Miri was almost afraid to hear her say it.
“I see Ruby.” She didn’t wait for Miri’s reaction. “I’m never alone now. She’s given me the greatest gift a person can give. She’s given me her life.”
Miri felt something roiling inside her. She looked away, angry at Natalie for not eating, angry for acting crazy, angry for throwing away their friendship. But she was scared, too. Scared there was something really wrong with her. Scared that she and Natalie would never be friends again. That they’d never know what the other was thinking, that Natalie would never rest her head in Miri’s lap while they watched television. Inseparable. That’s what everyone said about them back in seventh grade. Come back! she wanted to shout. Come back and be my friend.
Natalie misunderstood Miri’s expression. “You’re jealous of Ruby?”
“Why would I be jealous of Ruby? She’s dead.”
“She’s not dead,” Natalie said. “Why can’t you understand? Why won’t you even try?”
“I don’t like the way she’s changed you.”
“You’ve changed, too, since Mason. And just so you know, you’re not the only one in love. I’m in love with this, with dance. Dance is my life. There is nothing else.”
“Yes, there is. There’s school and friends and your family. Some people would give anything for your family.”
Natalie shook her head. “You don’t know anything.”
Miri didn’t like the way Natalie said that, as if maybe there was something Natalie knew that she didn’t. It hurt to think she had a secret she couldn’t share with Miri. Not that Miri had shared her secret about Mike Monsky, but there was a difference between having a secret no one suspected and having one you dropped hints about, wasn’t there?
“Maybe you should tell your parents about Ruby,” Miri said. “Maybe they can help.”
“Help? I don’t need help. I’ve never been happier.” She pressed the play button and the jukebox came to life. She snapped her fingers a few times and began to tap as Judy Garland’s voice sang, “Forget your troubles, come on, get happy.” She tapped across the room and back, then paused, looked at Miri and smiled a smile Miri didn’t recognize, a hard smile—maybe it was Ruby’s, maybe not, but it sent shivers down Miri’s spine. She took a couple of slow turns around the floor, then began to turn faster and faster until she was spinning, spinning like some kind of whirling dervish right out of their social studies book.
“Stop…” Miri called. “Stop!” But Natalie didn’t stop. Her eyes glazed over, as she twirled faster and faster, until her face turned almost purple.
Miri ran upstairs, found Dr. O and Corinne in the kitchen eating bagels. “What is it?” Corinne asked, reading Miri’s face.