Chapter 8

“OK then, where are we dancing today, Charles?” she asked.

“In the living room again, so we can play some music to help us learn the rhythms and the steps I am about to teach you,” I responded.

I took her hand and we went into the living room. When I stopped for a moment Claire leaned towards me, held my face in both of her hands and kissed me. It felt so fantastic. Whoa Nelly!

“All right now. Let’s focus and get warmed up. How about a little Waltz?”

“OK X.”

“Mom. Could you please play, “Sunrise, Sunset?”

“You play the piano, Annie?” Claire said sounding surprised.

“Yeah. Not nearly as much as I used to, but Charles asked me to play this when he knew you were coming over. Here we go, kids.”

The music started. I stepped up to Claire and we assumed the ‘position.’ Then, we danced the Waltz effortlessly gliding from one step to the next and back again like we danced it only yesterday.

The lyrics of this song talk about a woman who is recalling the births and lives of her children. She even says, ‘I don’t remember growing older, when did they?’

Our dance was becoming quite emotional as it went on. It takes the story to the point that her son meets and marries a girl as the days pass interminably by.

As the music nears its end, our dance steps slow as Antoinette played on.

When she was through, she left the room ... dabbing at her eyes.

Claire and I didn’t kiss, but we hugged, because, right then and there, we had realized that we would be dancing partners, and much more, forever.

At the appropriate moment, my mother stepped back into the room with her makeup all fixed. Claire and I hadn’t moved from the spot we stopped at when she was through playing.

“Ahem. I think you two absolutely nailed that. If there were a Waltz competition anywhere nearby, I would bet the mortgage on you two winning it. All right now, recap the Foxtrot.”

Mom put on the song “Night and Day” starting it and we went through all the steps of that dance. Feeling rather full of ourselves, we played “Putting on the Ritz,” and the Quickstep seemed in OK shape, although we still had a lot to learn.

When we were through with that, Mom came in with cookies and pink lemonade, saying, “Break time for the World Famous twelve-year-old dance couple of CC and X.”

Both her and CC giggled. I couldn’t even keep myself from laughing a little at her last remark.

We stopped long enough to each have a few cookies, and a full glass of my mothers’ tasty lemonade.

Claire asked, “OK Charles. What will we learn next? The Cha-Cha or the Tango?” She was giving me that smile that has burrowed its way forever into my heart.

“Of the two choices, CC, I think the Cha-Cha is the easier one to learn. The Tango is going to be tough,” I replied.

Annie spoke up, “The mighty Charles is afraid of the Tango? The Tango should be terrified of the mighty Charles!”

“Yes Annie. It should be scared spitless of Charles Xavier Newman,” Claire reiterated. They both laughed.

“OK you two. Stop already ... first, the Cha-Cha. Annie could you find and be ready to start the Santana version of ‘Oye Como Va,’ please?”

I took Claire and ran her through the fundamental rhythm of dancing the Cha-Cha, and then we went through the four Basic Movements. Once I thought we might be ready, I nodded to Mom to start the music.

She did and I said to Claire, “Listen to the beat — it’s easier to notice than some of the other dances we have learned. While we’d typically dance it in our usual ‘position,’ I found a style that could help us, if you are game?”

“Sure,” said Claire. “I will try anything with you, boyfriend” she blushed as she realized what she’d said, as she turned and looked at my mom.

Mom waived her off, laughing at Claire’s verbal miscue.

“OK ... Claire, put your hands on the side of my hips, Yeah. Right there. Great and I will do the same with you. Stop giggling, Dear! We should be able to do most of the basic steps in this position, and our hands will feel our hips rotating, if we’re doing it right.”

“CHARLES!” mom said, giving me the dirtiest look.

“What? Could you restart the song, please?” I asked giving her a wink.

“All right, but I am watching both of you very carefully while you try this ‘alternative’ position,” mom said with a little snicker in her voice.

The song started and it was really amazing how much more you felt the music this way, but I also understood my mom’s misgivings about this particular teaching method. Claire and I got through all four of the Basic Movements in this position.

Having to go through the song twice — We switched to the more traditional ‘Closed Position’ and it truly was, to re-coin the musical phrase, “Night and Day.” Time for another break — this time for lunch!

Mom made us some PB&J sandwiches, along with cold milk to wash it down. When we were through with lunch, Claire called home.

Her mother answered — they talked for a while and Claire asked if she could stay another hour or so, because we were making so much progress and we didn’t want to stop.

Annie got on the phone with Sarah and told her that it was really amazing how easily Claire and I have been learning these seemingly difficult dance steps. She OK’d Claire’s staying, as long as it was all right with Annie. They said goodbye to each other, and it was time for the ‘Dreaded Tango.’

I started by telling her a few key differences about the Tango, “There is NO rise and fall, you don’t slide from step to step — you pick up and place your feet and the walking steps are very staccato, very separated, and disconnected looking.”

We covered the Basic Walks and the Progressive Side Step and then did them in combination. Not having any good Tango music in the house, I had downloaded a few to my iPod, turned the volume up and put it in my pocket after starting the Johnny Ray version of “Hernando’s Hideaway.”

I asked Claire if she could hear it OK — she said ‘Yes,’ and we started to dance.

Amazingly, once again — we nailed it, although Mom was apparently stupefied over the fact that we had just learned the Basic Tango in only about ten minutes.

When the song was over, Annie tapped me on the shoulder and asked if she could try it. Claire stepped away and re-started the number. She and I were dancing the Tango, with Claire observing us.

We finished and my mom quietly turned to me and said, “I think Claire’s a little jealous of me. You need to reassure her that I am just your mother, while she’s your girlfriend.”

I laughed at that and responded, “Good idea, A.”

“What are you two talking about — me — I suppose?” Claire asked mockingly.

“I was telling Annie that she’s just my mom. You are my girlfriend — forever.”

“Forever? Really?” The shrieker just got replaced by the crier. Big Time!

I next started the song, “My Cup Runneth Over,” the Ed Ames version, and said to her, “Let’s dance some waltz, Beautiful.”

Claire had never heard this song before and was quietly crying while we danced to it. I did something I hadn’t done before; I pulled her tight up against me, and we danced with new-found emotion. It felt different, a good different. Our bodies were in contact, our chest, our waist and hips. It felt amazing, but I knew that because of all that, it was wrong!

Annie, out of the corner of my eye, was also crying. I held it together as well as I could, but while still dancing with Claire in my arms, we kissed. We separated our lips — and I said to her, “Forever!”

We took a break — Mom pulled me aside and read me the riot act about dancing so close to Claire. I apologized to both her and Claire, about how my emotions just sort of bubbled over. Annie said that she understood, but I ... we must show proper decorum. Whether we are practicing at the house and especially on Tuesday nights at our Cotillion.

We still had a few more Tango steps to cover, so we moved on to the Progressive Link and the Closed Promenade. Tricky, but not impossible. We then went through all the Tango variations we learned and decided to call it a day.

We thought we might schedule another day before the next Cotillion, to hammer out the Cha-Cha and Tango steps and maybe work on the Quickstep — Might even look at the Viennese Waltz a little more.

We piled into the car, with Claire and me in the back seat. Mom was glancing suspiciously back to us more than usual. All we did was hold each other’s hands and looked very deep into each other’s eyes. We talked about the upcoming school dance and next week’s Cotillion.

We waved to IJHS as we drove by it, and when we got to Claire’s, I got out of my side of the car and quickly ran around to open the door for Claire.

“My little gentleman,” she said adding, “You are going to spoil me, you know?”

“That’s all part of my long-term plan, Beautiful Girl!”

After waiting for her to get inside, I got back in the front seat with my mom, who had looked at me with a very odd expression. She started the car and we turned around and headed home.

It was quiet — much too quiet.

“Charles!”

The way she said it — made me jump outta my seat.

“Yes, mother, what is it?”

“Do we need to discuss what happened earlier today?”

“NO!” I may have said too abruptly. “You have made it quite clear, what I should and shouldn’t do while dancing with Claire.”

“Not just when you are dancing, young man.”

Oh crap! She used ‘young man’ which is almost as bad as using the entire name.

“Mom — I’m sorry! I don’t want you to be disappointed in me. I will be stronger; I must be stronger — I care so much for her.”

“I know, honey — it seems she feels the same way towards you, but you two aren’t even teenagers. You, being the boy, must keep the higher standard. Show her how much you care by dancing your very best, not by any other means, all right?”

“All right, Mom. Again, thank you for keeping me on track. I don’t want to blow apart the best thing that ever happened to me. Both of my girls mean the world to me.”

“Both. Oh, How sweet.”

“Yeah — Claire and Kalista mean so much to me.”

“Ooh, If I had a pillow to throw at you right now,” she said, laughing out loud.

We arrived home. As we walked into the house, I turned to my mother and said, “Antoinette, would you care to dance?”

“You know Charles. I have spoken to your father about you and Claire and you know what he said to me?”

Uh-oh. I hope that this is a rhetorical question, or I am about to step into a big pile of warm shi...

“Charles. I am talking to you! Wipe that silly grin off your face. I need your attention, please? Do you have any idea what your father said to me?”

Coming out of my mini-stupor, I said, “No, mother. What did he say?”

Doing a pretty dead-on impression of Dad, “He said, ‘Honey, the boy has Mommy issues. Look at that girl Claire that he spends all his time with. She’s your spitting image when you were that age. Freud would say that he’s really got a crush on his mother.’”

She got herself rather worked up while giving this speech.

Then she follows that with, “Is this all about me? Have I not given you enough love and... ?”

“MOM — I love you, but I am not ‘in love’ with you.”

“I love Claire and not because she looks like you did, but because you and dad taught me the way to care and to love people. You are the best Mom I have ever had.”

She chuckled.

I went on to say, “I have actually read a bit about Sigmund Freud. A lot of it, was way over my head. However, he was a cocaine user; I am not. He loved his mother ... so do I — Lastly, I do see the beauty in life, while all he ever saw was the darkness.”

“When did you get to be so damn smart, Charles?”

“I was born that way because you treated everyone around you with respect and that, along with my rugged good looks, is why I treat everyone around me with respect, even those dill wads at school who didn’t deserve it.”

“That’s why I care so much about you, and especially Claire. If she turns out to be one-tenth as astonishing as you are, I am going to be a really lucky kid because, remember — I am still only twelve years old.” I felt tears going down my face and I quickly rubbed my eyes clear.

Mom put her hands on my shoulder and said, “Go clean up and get ready for dinner. For the record, buster, that was a quite remarkable speech — you had me at ‘Best Mom.’”