Chapter 30

Thirty

SARA

Out of all thevirulent comments those two barnacles had vomited out of their mouths, it was Alexei’s barb about my mother’s disappointment that tightened its noxious vice around my heart. I sat on my swivel chair and sullenly stared out at Manhattan through the tall windows, my ego licking those broken-dancer wounds Alexei had aggravated with his acid-dripping words.

I sighed. It seemed so long ago since I’d danced on any stage. The memory struck a ping of regret in my soul. The ache throbbing in my chest made me wonder if I had made the right choice. After all of the sacrifices my mom made to get me into the best dance schools and to push me to always be better than the last version of myself, I had chosen to toss it all away.

But how could I go on dancing without her? She’d been my rock, my biggest fan. Without my mother, I was no one. If she was out there somewhere, watching over me, she had to understand.

Right?

I breathed heavily again, still reminiscing about a future I never had.

If only…

I pushed up off my chair and paced. If only what? If only the accident hadn’t happened? If only there hadn’t been a storm? If only there hadn’t been an audition? If only we hadn’t gone up to visit Nana? If only. If only. Life was a series of regrets and questions without answers. The more I thought about it, the more frustrated I became—the hotter the rage inside me flared. Anger boiled inside me like an infected cut, spreading toxic gunk throughout my body. It depleted me of my inner peace, stealing away the courage I needed to get back on that stage.

It even lied to me about being able to find love again.

It needed to stop. Allowing rancor to rule my life was vacuuming my drive to live.

As I plopped my ass back down on my chair, I sucked in a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to summon the strength to finally drag myself out of the pit of despair. Something deep inside me roared, a primal need to survive. Thoughts about my childhood, my family, and my years as a dancer, all clawed their way back to the surface, forcing me to see things differently—for the very first time since the accident.

With trembling anxiety, I reached for my last memory of my mother; the one I had buried so long ago and wished to never relive.

It happened four years ago. We’d been having dinner at grams—Nana’s famous pot roast and homemade mash potatoes—the family recipe she’d sworn to only share with the Hart sisters once we were married. My mom knew the recipe, but she was a terrible cook, and she’d misplaced it anyway. Gram said she would only share it once, after that, we were shit out of luck if we lost it.

We sat at her dining table, right off the kitchen, with unobstructed views of the New England seas, watching the snow coat the sandy shore off Gram’s backyard.

“Sara, honey, I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to drive in this weather,” my mom said.

“Your mother is right, Sara,” Gram called out from the kitchen as she prepared to bring out her also famous key lime pie. “No need to put your life at risk for an audition.”

“—or that of others,” Megan chimed in from across the dining table.

I raised an eyebrow at my sister. As if she’d never done stupid things before. “It really doesn’t look that bad out there, guys,” I assured them. “Plus, I have four-wheel drive. I’ll be fine.”

Mom stood up and reached for the TV remote resting on top of the kitchen counter. She aimed it at the flat screen in the living room and tuned it to the news channel then hiked up the volume.

…Governor of Massachusetts has deemed it a state of emergency. All civilians are advised to stay off the roads. Only emergency responders are permitted to be out…eighteen to twenty-four inches expected to blanket the area by dawn. This could be the first big storm of the season…

“That’s just for Massachusetts, Mom. If I leave now, I’ll make it to New York before it starts to get bad. The city is not expected to get as much snow as here.”

My mother shut her eyes in frustration before she looked back at me, her eyes flashing with dread. She knew I was being difficult, and no matter what she said, I was going to do what I wanted. But that wasn’t going to stop her from trying to dissuade me from going. “Sara, didn’t you just hear? It’s a state of emergency. Dangerous conditions out there.”

I looked away from her, not wanting her to notice the glint of apprehension probably shining in my own eyes. She was right; it was stupid and dangerous. But did I really have a choice? This audition was potentially the most important one of my career. It was an opportunity to become part of the most highly regarded company in New York.

“Mom, you know I can’t miss this audition. This is what I’ve trained for all my life.”

“Just wait ’til the morning. The roads will be cleared by then.”

“I can’t take that chance. The audition is at noon. What if we get snowed in? It’s better if I leave now, while it’s just starting to come down.”

Megan took a bite of Gram’s pie. “White-out conditions are going to make visibility impossible on the interstate. You really should stay.”

The table trembled; I bounced my knee so hard it made everything vibrate. Fierce anxiety raked through me at the thought of missing this audition. They didn’t get it. This was a lifetime opportunity for me. I was at my prime and God only knew when this company would have another audition. By then, there might be a younger, more beautiful, and maybe even more talented dancer than me.

No. I couldn’t take that chance.

I pushed my uneaten pie away and headed for the stairs to my guest room.

“Sara, where are you going?” Gram called out after me.

“I’m getting my things before it gets worse out there.”

“My God, she’s really leaving…” I heard my mom mutter in disbelief.

Curious to hear what they were going to say about me, I stood at the top of the stairs and listened.

“This is your fault, you know,” Gram said in a whisper.

“Why would you say that, Mother?”

“She’s always been excessively competitive, and that’s what you’ve nurtured—an entitled brat.”

“Her talent is a gift, Mother. Why shouldn’t she be competitive? How else could she be where she is now? She’s a strong, young woman and I couldn’t be prouder.”

She’d always told me how proud she was, but that was the first time I’d heard her defend me. Gram appreciated my dancing, but she never shied from sharing her true feelings, telling me I should get a real education and job. She resented my mother for supporting my dream.

“If being strong-willed and determined makes you a brat, then so be it. I have a beautiful daughter who dances like an angel, and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to help her spread her wings and share her gift with the world.”

“Where are you going?” Gram asked.

“To pack. You think I’m going to let her drive to New York by herself?”

She’d never once missed any of my competitions or auditions. She’d been my lucky charm. I couldn’t deny that a huge part of me hated the thought of doing my first big audition by myself, but I wasn’t about to ask her to come. I knew the risks. When she came tromping up the stairs, I held her back by the shoulders. I told her she didn’t have to, but she cupped my cheek with her palm, and said, “Baby, I would never miss this for the world. Now come on, we need to go.”

Gram grumbled while Megan sulked and fretted about poor visibility. During the entire time Mom and I dragged our suitcases to the car, she complained and argued about our decision. There were at least five to six inches on the ground, and from the look of things, the roads hadn’t been plowed much. My hands trembled as I held onto the wheel. Looking over at my mom, the dreary clouds in her eyes didn’t aide in my trepidation.

As we skidded around the local streets, I questioned my decision and prayed the highways had been cleaned better, but as we pulled off the ramp and entered the interstate, my heart sank.

Then, my world was obliterated.