In The Shoes Of A Ballerina

Chapter 4

                 After Dea sent Gabby to school, she went straight to the Eleganté for her rehearsal for Carmen Suite as the principal dancer. She danced ever so gracefully to the intense tune played by her favorite pianist. The scene she practiced was a combination of arabesques, pirouettes and pointe work.

 

                She danced nonstop until her cellphone rang. She paused in an arabesque before she decided to take a look at her phone. The screen showed a reminder. It read: Fetch Gabby in an hour.

 

                She smiled then called to her pianist, “Mike, let’s call this a day. Thank you.”

 

                Mike returned her smile, and packed his score sheets in his messenger bag before leaving.

 

                “It’s Gabby, isn’t it?” said Professor Natalie as Dea removed her pointe shoes.

 

                Professor Natalie was her eighth grade teacher on classical ballet at Novestilo. She remembered how the fifty-year old woman smiling at her right now pushed her to the ends of her abilities. That one she owed greatly to this woman.

 

                She pulled her lips into a smile in response to the professor’s question. “I’ve got to go. Thanks, Professor.” She waved before walking out of the room.

 

                “Mommy!” Gabby ran toward his mother’s direction once he saw her standing by the lobby of his school.

 

                Dea stood there with her arms welcoming and waiting to squeeze her son into a tight hug. “How’s school, honey?” She then kissed his cheek.

 

                While they walked where Dea parked her Chevy, Gabby replied in a nonchalant tone, “Just fine. I’m tired, Mom. Are we going home or am I gonna wait till you finish your rehearsals?”

 

                Dea felt bad about having Gabby stay with her until dark every time her schedule was tight. She thought he was already used to that kind of setup since it was the routine since he was four. Now, he was seven yet it turned out he wasn’t, and would never get used to it.

 

                She keyed in the ignition, looked at him and caressed his face. “We’ll be staying home today. What is more to that is Mommy’s gonna cook little Gabby’s favorite dish!”

 

               With that announcement, Dea’s drained energy from the rehearsals was regenerated. Her source of strength, his smile – it erased any negative energy inside of her every time she would see his bright face.

 

 

                Gabby clapped in delight, and his voice became jolly when he talked about his day at school. “You know what, Mommy, there’s this girl in the lower grade who’s being bullied.”

 

                Dea kept her eyes focused on the road while her attention was on her son’s news. No parent would want his child being bullied.