The Dance - Cover

The Dance

Copyright© 2021 by Rooftop Herald

Chapter 13

I rolled out of bed when my body demanded it – six in the morning. Dad’s door was still closed, forcing me to knock.

“Dad, get up.”

“Go away, I hurt.”

“Come on Dad, we have to get going.”

“Thirty more minutes.”

Time to bring out the big guns. “Mrs. Goddard is waiting for you.”

There was a thump as he hit the floor. Must have gotten the bad adrenaline flowing, you know, the stuff fueled by hostility. “You’re an evil child; I don’t know how your mom didn’t smother you in your sleep.”

He met me in the kitchen where we grabbed a cup of coffee before heading out to the truck. We’d pick up McDonald’s on the way over.


Grandpa hadn’t done any concrete work in a while, so we needed to hit the lumber yard to get 2x6’s we could use for forms. We also needed tools, although they could be rented. We made it to the Goddard residence by seven, to find Ms. Goddard waiting for us. We drove down to our work area after saying a polite good morning to her and warning her once again to keep everyone away.

Grandpa knew everyone in the construction business it seemed, and so we had a couple of loads of gravel within an hour. I ran the ‘cat into the pit, spreading the rock around and performing a preliminary compacting. By ten, it was as smooth as I could make it, and time to take out the portable plate compactor. This is a machine with a plate on the bottom and a motor on top, which vibrates and drives the rock under it into the cracks and crevices of the piece of gravel next to it. It has a handle which requires the operator to hang on lest they get pummeled to death. Dad and I planned to switch off so we didn’t kill ourselves. I removed my shirt, as it was my experience that the hem would vibrate up until it was caught under my arms – makes for a very unpleasant feeling. My first shift ran twenty minutes before I had to take a break.

Grandpa had stopped by and brought out a large cooler of water. As I was filling my water bottle a second time he casually remarked, “Don’t look now, but you two are under surveillance by some very pretty ladies.”

I nodded to let him know I had heard him, grabbed my shirt and draped it around my neck, walking back to where Dad was wrestling with the compactor.

He lasted another ten minutes before he needed a rest. I passed Grandpa’s counter surveillance message on to him as he turned the machine over to me. We alternated like that until shortly before noon when everything was compacted to his satisfaction. After that we positioned the reinforcing mesh.

The forms were in place, Grandpa had used the transit to verify level, everything was compacted, and we just needed an inspection so we could pour. Lunch was provided for us by Grandma while we waited for the inspection to be completed. Those guys really can be annoying sometimes. They show up, check your permits (which had been pulled for us by someone in anticipation of our being able to do the job), walk around for a bit looking at things, and then sign a piece of paper that allows you to continue making a living.

The cement truck was already on its way when the inspector left. It backed in, being careful to miss my flags, and got situated beside our pour. Grandpa had rubber boots for us, so we changed into them as the operator started the cement mixing. We had ordered seven and a half yards of a fairly dry mix, and when the operator matched it to our satisfaction, we began to walk the chute around, filling in the location with aggregate that would hopefully set up well enough for us to be able to get home for a late supper. Yeah, don’t ask me why, but it was beginning to feel like home here in wet, muggy, hot Georgia.

Grandpa helped all afternoon by sighting for us. We wanted the pad to crown in the middle so we’d get drainage off on all sides. It was back breaking, working with the reinforcing mesh in the middle of the cement, screeding, tamping and then floating the wet mud, as well as placing the anchors for the posts at exactly the right spots, angles and depths. We went home dirty and exhausted, with the satisfaction of a hard day’s work done well.

Grandma fed us again, forgiving us afterward for not helping with the cleanup. I was falling asleep on the couch when I caught a snippet of conversation between my grandparents.

“Well?”

“The girls watched those boys like hawks all day. I mentioned it to Tim around lunch, but neither of our guys did anything special.”

“How do we get them all together?”

“You can’t, Candace. James still needs to heal, and Evie stuck her foot in it for both of the girls when she went to Seattle and met Tim. You witnessed that yourself. Give it time and we’ll see what the good Lord has in store. In the meantime, get some Coppertone for those boys, they’re going to need it.”

Grandma tittered at that. “You think the girls are attracted to them?”

There was an obvious pain in Grandpa’s voice when he responded. “Candace, there was enough sizzle in the air yesterday when those two met up that I could smell the ozone cooking.” He was obviously talking about Dad and Mrs. Goddard. “I don’t know about Tim and her young ‘un, but if he’s like his dad and she’s like her mother, there will be something between the two of them.”

I could hear the mirth when Grandma replied to him. “Lionel, I wanted to beat that boy within an inch of his life for what he did at the Kroger, but there was definitely chemistry there. He wouldn’t have been so infuriating to both of us if there hadn’t been.” There was a pause, “So, do you think the boys are interested?”

“Honey, all four had better watch out. The guys took their shirts off to tease the girls, and let me tell you, those boys have a better physique than I ever did and they’re well bronzed after a summer of lollygagging around the country. The Goddard women were drooling all afternoon ... but why am I telling you this? You probably already heard from Evie.”

There were mumbles as their voices moved away, and then I didn’t hear anything more until morning.


Saturday was a day of relative rest for us. We had another inspection to make sure all the anchors were correctly put in place – they were. We looked at the forms and decided to leave them one more day, meaning we’d have to clean them up on Sunday afternoon, along with backfilling around the base if we wanted to build the structure on Monday, finishing on Tuesday.

Grandpa had a great idea on Saturday afternoon. He suggested that we build the roof sections in the shop, getting everything ready so that they could be attached in place when the structure was completed. He and Dad discussed how to make that work to code, and we spent a nice afternoon getting all twenty-four segments that the plans called for, ready.

Dad and I sat down in his room that evening after supper. There were a few things we needed to talk about and he had some news for me. Bill Emerson had come through, sending Dad a link to the video of Mandy and me dancing the Tango. We agreed to wait until after our talk when all of us could sit down and watch it together.

He started, “Are you ready to head back to Seattle?”

I had been thinking about that since yesterday, “Yes and no.”

“Want to elaborate?”

“Well, I realized yesterday when we were finishing the pour that it would feel good to get home last night. I was thinking about here, with Grandma and Grandpa, and not Seattle.”

He nodded. “And how do you feel about the game that Mrs. Goddard is playing, and your GRANDMOTHER’S INTERFERENCE in our lives?”

There was a voice from the other side of the door, “It’s not interference when you do it out of love.”

“Don’t interrupt, Mom, or we’ll take a drive in the Tahoe for the rest of this conversation.” It got still.

“I don’t know, Dad. I wonder what game she’s playing, but she’s been okay the last couple of days.”

“Yeah, she has, even after both of us treated her poorly.” He sighed, “We both owe her apologies, and you still owe her daughter one as well. Maybe there’s another family member and you could go for the trifecta.”

Dad looked around the room, seeing Macon instead of four white-painted walls. “This feels like home to me too, Tim. But I still want to be able to design and build houses and not be tied to this area all the time. I think Bill showed me a way to do that, he and Professor Litton. With the magazine article, your Aunt June says she’s getting inundated with requests for McKenzie homes. I’ve left the website up and we’re getting so many hits it almost crashed the ISP’s servers. They’re charging me for all the traffic, but we’re coming out ahead because of all the advertising revenue we’re getting from high-end fixtures and appliances.”

“So,” he continued, “what if we built a house here, left our options open with McKenzie Construction, and tried to have a normal life otherwise?”

He gave me a moment to think about his suggestion. It made sense, particularly how he laid it out, and let’s face it, I had told him that where he wanted to live was the main consideration. For me, wherever Dad was would be home. “Yeah, I’d like that.” I finally agreed.

“Okay then,” Dad replied, although his face held a look of apprehension on it, “let’s go and tell your grandparents.

Grandma obviously hadn’t left since I heard, “Move, Lionel, they’re coming out.”


It was late when Dad and I finished our talk, but I still wanted to show him and the grandparents the video. It turned out that their flat screen TV was old enough that they couldn’t connect to the internet, or a phone or ... well, it was old.

“What are you trying to do, Tim?” Grandma asked as she saw me looking at the back of the TV, attempting to figure out how to hook up a newer electronic device to it.

“Just trying to figure out how to show you some video from the internet.”

“Won’t our TV do that? The salesman said it was top of the line.”

I laughed, “Grandma, how long ago was that?”

“Oh, I think you were probably two at that time, so that would have been ... almost fifteen years ago! Oh my goodness, we’ve had that TV for fifteen years? LIONEL, get over here!”

Grandpa came rumbling into the room, “What is it, Candace?”

“Did you know that Tim wants to show us some videos but he can’t because our TV won’t play them?”

“No, Grandma, it’ll play them, it just won’t connect to the internet.” I was trying to be helpful and not misstate the facts.

“Hush, Tim.” She turned her attention on Grandpa, “Now, you take your grandson tomorrow and go down to that blue store with all the electronics and HiFi’s, and you get the TV he picks out and bring it back here.”

Grandpa scratched his head, “Blue store?”

“You know, Blue Boy, or Best Price or whatever it’s called.”

He put it together, “You mean Best Buy.”

“Yes. Take Tim tomorrow and get the TV he tells you to.”

“Candace, I can’t. They’re going to be working over at the Goddard’s after church. You take care of it if you think we need it.” He left muttering about blue stores and wacky old women.

I tried to explain, “Grandma, we just need a device that we can hook up to your TV, like a new Blu-Ray player that has internet capability and installed apps.”

She looked at me seriously, “Tim, I know that, and you know that, but I just gave myself permission to buy a new TV for the living room. That way I can move this one into the sewing room and the old goat won’t be able to say anything about it. I think I’ll also get a couple of Blu-Ray players. Your dad says you two have quite the movie library, and I’ll just borrow them from you guys.”

She looked thoughtful, “Do you think this room is too small for a 7.1 Surround system?”

I’m going to have to watch out for her, she’s quite the schemer.


Sunday morning found us getting ready for church. Since the only dress clothes I had were the suit pants and white dress shirt the Black family bought me in Chicago, I was going to have to wear that. We decided to take two cars, so I volunteered to ride with Grandpa. Sunday School started at ten, and around here, you attended that before you had the actual service. We were on the road at nine-thirty.

“Grandpa, I wanted to apologize for making you get a new TV.”

“Tim, nothing to apologize for. Your grandmother has wanted a new one for a long time so she could put the old one in her sewing room. This way neither of us feels bad about spending the money, and it keeps things playful between us.”

He drove for a little bit, “Shoot, who do you think set up the router and all the computer equipment in my shop? She’s more tech savvy than half of the salespeople at Best Buy. I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’m going to get her a 5.1 Surround system for that front room for Christmas. She loves all those new Captain America movies and likes the way the subwoofer makes you feel the explosions.”

“Uh, Grandpa, better make it a 7.1 system. That’s what she really wants.”

He looked surprised, “Really? Okay, but you’re helping me run the cabling.”


Sunday School is really awkward the first time you’re in a church where you don’t know anyone. I had a decision to make, and I decided to be in the moment. Grandpa pointed out to me the CE building where the classes were held, sending me on my way. I sort of wandered around, introducing myself to people I bumped into, and looking for the High School group.

I got lucky when I turned a corner and saw a group of girls sitting at a picnic table near where Grandpa had directed me; I recognized one of them. Well, no time like the present to apologize to Paige. I walked over, noticing that as soon as I began to approach them, I became the center of attention for every teenager there.

“Hi, Paige. You’re looking nice today.”

“Tim.” She sounded like I must have the other day.

“I wondered if I could talk to you for a moment.”

“Sure, go ahead.” The chill was still there.

Her girlfriends didn’t move.

“Alone?”

“Talk, McKenzie.”

Okay, that’s how it would be. I guess I owed her – I had embarrassed her in a public setting, so I needed to make it up to her in a public setting.

I took a deep breath. “Paige, I apologize for my behavior at Kroger. I was out of line, and I embarrassed you and my grandmother. You didn’t deserve to have me act that way, and I’m sorry.”

I waited a moment, but there was no reaction, so I shrugged and turned to leave. I had taken a couple of steps when my path was blocked by a guy about my size. He stepped up and into my personal space, trying to get me to back down, but I wasn’t in the mood.

“My sister tells me you’re not a very nice guy.”

“And you are?”

“Trent. Trent Foster.”

I managed to get my arm between us, pushing him backwards to make some room so I could extend it for a handshake. To everyone else I’m sure it looked like he had backed off, but he and I knew better.

“Well, Trent, I’m Tim McKenzie, good to meet you.”

He shook my hand, going for the dominance grip. Wuss! His hand wasn’t one that had held a hammer almost every day for the last three years. I let him think he was doing well for a moment and then applied pressure until I saw him wince. We let go.

“So, what were you trying to tell me about your sister?”

He had to think back to what he had been saying before the conversation got derailed, “Uh, she said you weren’t very nice.”

“Well, that’s interesting since the only person I’ve met here is Paige. I’d love to meet your sister though so she has a chance to revise her opinion of me. Which one is she? Go ahead, just point her out and I’ll take it from there.”

The guy actually pointed out the beautiful, buxom, raven-haired girl to the right of Paige.

“Thanks.”

I walked back over, capturing both his sibling’s hands in mine. “Hi, Trent’s sister. My name is Tim McKenzie. I understand you’d like the opportunity to get to know me better so that you can develop a more positive opinion of me.”

Her eyes were wide, darting between Paige and Trent, as if asking both what she should do. I helped her out by pulling her off the table and rotating her so that we were standing side by side facing away from the group. I released her, placing my right hand at the small of her back, effectively guiding her where I wanted her to go. She looked back at Paige, completely out of her element.

We walked over to another picnic spot and I lifted her up to sit on the table itself, elevating her in stature. I learned her name, Gloria Foster, that she was in eleventh grade, what a coincidence, so was I, and that she had two brothers, Trent, who was a year older than she, and Jake, two years younger. She was good friends with Paige and really sorry that she had said I wasn’t nice. I charmed her all throughout the Sunday School hour, which apparently didn’t apply to the High School group today.

We talked about her interests and what she wanted to do after High School. I made her feel special, looking into her eyes and listening to what she had to say. I reinforced her feelings of friendship with all those subtle things you do to say you like the other person. By the time the younger classes were dismissed, unofficially announcing the need to head into the sanctuary for the service, Gloria was half-way to being in love with me.

I helped her off her perch, lifting her up by the waist again and swinging her down to her feet.

“I guess it’s time for me to catch up to my family. I was happy to meet you, Gloria. It’s nice to know I made at least one friend today.”

I escorted her back to the group, leaving her with them. “Paige ... Trent.”

Dad was watching me from the hallway, waiting for me to find him. “What was that all about?”

“Oh, just making new friends.”

“Really? From the death stares, it looked more like making new friend, singular, and at least one enemy.”

I looked back, “Oh, that’s just Trent Foster. He told me his sister said I wasn’t very nice, so I changed her opinion of me.”

Dad groaned, “Please tell me she won’t start stalking you, or knocking on your grandparents’ door in the middle of the night.”

“Hmm, it’s possible, but not likely. She doesn’t have their address, does she?”

“How would I know?” Dad hung his head. “Let’s get in there.”


I was concentrating on the announcements in the bulletin when something buzzed in my ear.

“What did you do to Gloria?”

My hand rose to swat the fly away, and only Paige’s quick reflexes kept her from leaving church with a bloody nose.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?”

She leaned in, whispering more normally, “Gloria thinks you’re the sweetest guy she’s ever met. What did you do to her?”

I bent my head toward her ear in order to whisper back, “Nothing, we just talked about her for a while. I can’t help it if she’s a good judge of people.”

Her lips creased in an involuntary smile, “She’s almost to the point of writing Gloria McKenzie in all her notebooks.”

“I thought you girls only did that when you were eleven. What was your name then? Paige Foster?”

That earned me a punch on my arm and an emphatically hissed “No!”

She got a stern look from the people on the other side of her, while Dad glared at me. The service was starting, meaning we needed to shut up and pay attention. The pastor really wasn’t that charismatic or interesting, so I zoned out for a while. I was brought back to reality by the clear mezzo-soprano voice of an angel beside me when we sang one of the congregational songs. I have a decent baritone sound, but I am nowhere in the league of songstresses like Paige.

The melody finished and I couldn’t help it, my lips found themselves again by her ear, “I don’t think I could ever get tired of your voice.” I was surprised to see a blush cross her cheeks. Wait, what did I say? Too late, it’s out there. Now I was blushing.

I tried to concentrate on the sermon, but this pastor was useless. All I could think of was my faux pas. Maybe Dad and I could get out of here right after the service and I wouldn’t have to face her. Never mind that I’d be at her house this afternoon. Wednesday and the open road couldn’t come soon enough. The service ended shortly after that giving us the chance to head home to change and grab a bite to eat before driving over to the Goddard’s.


Grandpa was wearing mirrored sunglasses and teasing me, “Take off your shirt, Tim. Give them a show.” He had made me aware that the twosome of Goddard women was now a threesome, the new addition having long black hair and being about my age. He wouldn’t leave it alone either, “Looks like they have binoculars. Come on, boy, take off your shirt.”

What the heck, it was hot, I was hot! I had gotten off the ‘cat to grab a shovel and backfill a spot that refused to accept a scoop-full from the front end loader. I handed the shovel handle to him to hold, purposefully looking off about thirty degrees to the side of where the ladies were arrayed on lawn chairs, ostensibly laying out for an even tan as they watched us, while trying not to make it look like they were watching us.

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