The receptionist told her that the dance studio was on the fourth floor. When she entered the building, she saw cracked and yellowing linoleum tile and a glass placard with the white letters. Under "N" she found The Next Step and saw "Suite 412" listed after it. She pressed the button for the elevator, waited for it, then entered, shocked to see her reflection staring back at her.
After riding the elevator up to the fourth floor, with her back against her reflection, she expected to see another linoleum floor and drab office appointments when the door opened. Instead, only two doors awaited her there: the door for The Next Step and the door for a restroom. Up here the carpet was a lush garnet and a Grecian plaster archway framed the door for the dance studio. This surprised her. Would she find a palatial marble ballroom on the other side?
The door opened to a reception area with potted plants and simple, plush couches.
Straight ahead a young woman with shining, smooth blond hair smiled and greeted her: "You must be Linda!" she said, with unaffected enthusiasm. "Thank you for coming early! We like punctual people!" She introduced herself as Sharon and lifted a clipboard over her counter and gave it to her.
When Linda sat down to fill out the paperwork, it first struck her that it was stiff and card-like. It reminded her of the chart papers she filled out day in/day out at work. She realized that they must keep a file of all the dance students, so that the teachers could refer to it and make notes. On the first page, most of the questions and spaces were demographic: her name, address, and telephone numbers.
Part two of the application got much more personal. What dances would she like to learn? She fought back the urge to jot down "All of them" and wrote Waltz, Swing, and West Coast Swing instead. The next section asked about her employment and she wrote "Jewish Hospital," no problem there. Immediately after that came the salary question. Then they asked about her assets. It came into her mind to write "None of your business," but instead she wrote the word "personal" in the blank.
The final section asked for emergency contacts. Okay, she thought, if she keeled over of a heart attack, they would need to know who to call. She entered Ruth Ann's name and phone number in that space, with Seth as a backup. Seth. Linda handed the clipboard back to Sharon.