Page 86

The second week, they arrived separately. Helen wore her LAPD uniform, her hair pulled back, her shiny badge on display. Everyoneoohedandahhed. There was something commanding about her, and it was interesting to Annie that everyone else had the same reaction, especially since police officers still weren’t particularly popular in Los Angeles. Even without her uniform, though, Helen was beautiful and commanding.

Annie hung around after class instead of fleeing as if the place was on fire, like she had the week before. She watched Helen toss things into her tote bag. “I have to figure out how to be in two places at once,” Helen said when she looked up and saw Annie.

“What happened?”

“Work ran late, obviously.” Helen indicated her uniform. “I still have to go pick up Zach, and I was supposed to get Ash from ballet class ten minutes ago.”

“I can go get Ashley,” Annie offered, then glanced behind her. Two guys were packing up their books, and one woman stared unabashedly.

“Could you?” Helen asked. “She’s going to be so pissed. She hates when I’m late.”

“I’ll go right now.”

“Okay,” Helen said. “I’ll get Zach and then pick up something for dinner…”

“Just get the baby and go home, Helen. You leave dinner to me.”

Helen looked like she wanted to reach out and touch Annie, but she didn’t. “Thank you.”

They walked out together, ushering the other woman out with them so Helen could lock the classroom door.

At the parking lot, they went to their separate cars. Annie hustled to get going. Ashley was usually pissed anyway, so shecould only imagine the cloud of joy she was going to find at being picked up late.

The ballet studio was not too far from the house. Annie had been there once before to watch the fall recital. She didn’t really understand tiny girls in tutus, bouncing around on stage to extravagant music, but the parents all seemed to eat it up. Ashley was at the stage where she was about to outgrow this studio and would soon have to decide if ballet was just a hobby or if she was going to make it her life.

She was waiting when Annie pulled up. An older girl was sitting on the concrete steps with her. Annie put the car in park and pulled up on the emergency brake, then opened the car door and called out, “Ashley!” Ashley looked up with a squint and seemed to deflate a little.

“That’s my ride,” Annie heard her say.

“That’s not your mom,” the other girl said.

“It’s the lady that lives in my garage,” Ashley said, shouldering her backpack. “Bye, Cecile.”

Ashley got in the car, dropped her backpack down by her feet, and slammed the door shut. She still wore her leotard and tights under her jacket, though she’d taken off her ballet slippers and put on sneakers. Her cheeks were red. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

“Where’s Mom?”

“She was running late, so I offered to come get you. Hope that’s okay,” Annie said.

“Not like I have a choice.”

“I guess I could make you walk,” Annie offered. Ashley rolled her eyes. “Well, I also told her we’d get dinner, so what do you think? Pizza?”

“Whatever.”

“We could do Chinese or hot dogs or pasta.”

“Pizza is fine.”

“Pizza it is,” Annie declared and pulled out of the parking lot.

At the Pizza Hut, in an effort to shake Ashley from her mood, Annie offered her a quarter to play one of the arcade games while they waited, but she declined.

Annie persisted. “Come on. Something good must’ve happened to you today.”

“Well,” she said, “my ballet teacher told me she wants to start meen pointe.”

“That’s awesome! That must mean she thinks you’re really good.”