The Labors of Love: Short Stories

30th Anniversary

Genevieve sits alone in her private theater angrily scarfing down pop corn. The only light in the room is coming from the projector. She sits watching footage of every performance she's ever had recorded. She's been here for hours. How many? She isn't sure but she can feel it in her bones.

The lights flick on abruptly and her eyes feel like they're burning. Prince walks over and has a seat beside her, resting his cane on the other side.

"Why're you in here torturing yourself? You hate combing over old footage, why now?" He leans forward trying to look at her face but her eyes are glazed over and she cannot see him.

"I was talking to Janet this morning. She was talking to me about how much she misses Michael... It made me think about a conversation we'd had."

"About?"

"Remember his 30 year anniversary and how everyone came out to celebrate and dance and sing?"

"How could I forget? You cried for an hour because you felt terrible for missing the first night because Lyra had a choir concert." Genevieve gives him a look and he raises his hands. "Sorry, right memory wrong emotion."

"I sent," she starts assertively bringing the focus back, "Michael flowers maybe a week afterwards, you know, just to congratulate him and tell him I'm sorry again and he sent me flowers back. Here's the note that was attached."

"Genevieve,

Thank you for your well wishes and kind words. You and Prince's presence was greatly appreciated and your dance was beautiful as always. I can't wait to join you on stage for your 30th anniversary.

Your Dear Friend,

Michael"

Prince reads the note and his heart sinks into his chest. He and Michael were professional rivals but private acquaintances. They did not see each other often but Prince knows in his heart if their schedules would have allowed it, they would've been great friends. If not for their love of music and the arts and practical jokes, for their love of the woman sitting beside him. Michael loved Genevieve. He loved her the way he loved Janet. Like a little sister. He knew how much that relationship meant to Genevieve as an oldest sibling. She didn't have to have all the answers, she finally had someone to call.

Michael gave her great advice in her career. He was the one who combed over her footage and looked for ways she could improve. As artists sharing more than one art form they pushed each other to new heights often. It's fair to say Genevieve has lost a bit of that drive, since his passing but sitting here holding that scrap of paper she's held onto for 10 years she's beginning to find it again.

"What are you thinking?" Her eyes have returned to the screen blank as the images of her body move across her eyes.

"He isn't here. He won't join me. He won't even be here... to tell me if it's good enough." With that final word, she breaks. Hours of tears begin to fall but she doesn't sob or moan. She simply sits as the waterfall of tears flows from her eyes. She anxiously rotates her wedding ring on her finger. Her eyes scan the screen nervously as she tries to find a new focus but she can feel herself only becoming frantic. He takes her hand gently and places it on his chest. Her demeanor softens as she feels the warmth of his skin on her palm. She focuses on his heartbeat and leans closer to him as if bringing their hearts closer together will calm the violent beating in her chest. Their foreheads touch and together they take a few deep breaths.

"I don't know if I should do it. It feels unfair." Genevieve says softly once she's calmed down a little.

"Mama, you've worked so hard to get here. No one would be upset with you for celebrating that, especially not Michael. He was always celebrating your success."

"You think I should do it?"

"And make it the best show you've ever done. Call every dancer and choreographer you know. Call everyone you've ever worked with. Tell everyone to clear their calendars and make time in their rehearsal schedules. Give yourself the spotlight one last time. We can honor Michael and anyone else you want that night. He will be there in spirit and in our hearts."

"Thank you, husband." She says with a deep sigh.

"Anytime, baby."