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fifty-eight f

A Car, a Job, and a Home

I bought a 1974 silver Ford Galaxy. The purchase took a bite out of the $5,000 from Ben, but without a car, I was helpless. I took Tammy up on the offer to tend bar at Dream Girls in North Brunswick, where she was a regular dancer.

In the two years since I’d stopped dancing, clubs had become raunchier and costumes more revealing. Boundaries between customers and dancers were looser, the tips larger.

Tammy earned twice what I made tending bar. As more and more of her money went up her nose, her behavior became more and more erratic. She and Danny would crash and burn one day soon. I didn’t want to be around when that happened.

If I wanted to get my own place and reconnect with my kids, I’d need more money. I finally let Dave, the manager, talk me into two dancing nights a week.

I resurrected my dance costumes, which I’d stored at Ben’s place in Florida. Compared to the newer styles, they were laughable. I practiced my old routines in Tammy’s basement until I felt confident to take the stage.

I was a wreck until the music entered my soul, and I began to move. After the first song, I felt powerful and confident. Once again, I was hooked. I promised myself I’d only take a short detour from my goal of sobriety. But the more I danced, the more alcohol, pot, and coke coursed through my body.

By spring 1979, I’d returned to full-time dancing and had enough money to get my own place. In Plainsboro, I found a gorgeous second-floor apartment with a balcony overlooking a golf course. It was time to reconnect with Tommy and Lee.

I summoned the courage to call Tom’s parents.

“Hello, Mrs. Harrison,” I began. “It’s Ava.”

“Ava?”

“Your former daughter-in-law.”

“Whadda ya want?” She sounded old and drunk.

“I’ve been trying to reach Tom and my children. Their number in Charlotte is disconnected, and my letters came back.”

“They moved.”

“Can you tell me where?”

“Why should I?”

“I’m their mother.”

“That ain’t what Tom says.”

“Please?” I couldn’t keep the tremor out of my voice.

“Thas up to Tom.”

“Can you tell him to call me?” I rattled off my number. Was she capable of writing it down?

“Don’t bug me no more.” Mrs. Harrison slammed down the receiver.

I’d saved enough to send Tommy and Lee to summer camp. If I hired a private investigator, I’d have nothing to give them. I prayed for a miracle.

My miracle came two months later. By that time, I’d gotten on the circuit and booked gigs from Trenton to New Brunswick. One afternoon, I was dancing at the Rainbow Lounge in Piscataway when a familiar face smiled at me.

Kevin Harrison—Tom’s brother! I joined him on my break.

We spent a few minutes catching up before I summoned the courage to ask, “What happened to Tom and the boys?”

Kevin’s face darkened. “Tom and the kids are in Bridgeport, Connecticut. They left North Carolina maybe two years ago.”

“How are Tommy and Lee?”

Kevin looked away.

“What happened?”

“How much time d’you have?”

“Ten minutes before my next set.”

“I’m sorry, Ava.”

Panic seized my heart. Were my kids dead? Injured?

“Tom started drinking again and getting violent,” Kevin began. “He started slapping Elaine around and making life miserable for Tommy, Lee, and Elaine’s kids. Elaine filed for divorce. She tried getting custody of the boys, but because she’s the stepmom, the court left them with Tom.”

I stared numbly at Kevin, tuning out the sounds and sights of the club. Why hadn’t I been there for my children?

Wait a minute! It was Tom who locked me out of their lives. He told me I wasn’t wanted. Tom was the consummate father who’d taken a vow of sobriety. How could I have known?

“What about Tommy and Lee?”

“Surviving,” Kevin said. “Not the happiest kids on the planet, but they’re smart and ambitious, especially Lee.”

His words eased some of my anxiety.

“What should I do?”

“I’ll give you Tom’s number and address. From there you’re on your own.”

It was time for my next set. I downed two shots of tequila and pushed Kevin’s news to the back of my mind.