The Dance - Cover

The Dance

Copyright© 2021 by Rooftop Herald

Chapter 21

Paige took off in time to get home before her curfew, leaving me and Dad sitting on the couch, talking.

“Dad, what kind of event is this open house going to be?”

“I don’t know, Black Tie I guess.”

“You guess, or it is going to be Black Tie? It makes a difference.”

“It should say on your invitation.”

“I didn’t get one. I suppose it was just assumed that I’d be there. I hope that’s all it was. You don’t think she excluded me on purpose, do you?”

Dad appeared ready to tell me that was ridiculous, stopping himself before he blurted that out. “I ... I don’t know.” He was troubled, “I hope it was an oversight. I’ll check on Sunday at church.”

Saturday passed with me doing Grandpa’s chores at home so that he could work with Dad. I guess they figured I was healthy enough to rake and till and weed. I played a bit on the skid-steer, cleaning up the family homestead and pushing stuff into burn piles until Grandma yelled at me. After that I was restricted to the inside of the house.

On Sunday, we got up early to go to church. Mrs. Emerson had finally sent a replacement jacket for the suit they had given to me, along with a handwritten note telling me that Mandy still had the original in her closet. I thought I might dress up a little today, taking the suit pants and jacket out only to find they didn’t fit. There was a fallback option of Dockers and button-down shirt, but now I really needed to find out what the dress code would be for the event. I was going to need new clothes, and there wasn’t much time to get them.

Dad drove us home after the service. We had sat with the Goddards again today, enjoying every moment of our time except when the pastor was sermonizing.

“I spoke to Evie.” He had that ominous tone that usually meant I wasn’t going to like his next words. “She forgot to put you on the list. In fact, she told me that if there was anyone you wanted to invite, friend, co-worker, subcontractor, you should let her know by Tuesday and she’d send them invitations too.”

“How many can I invite?”

“She said as many as you wanted. Oh, and it’s not Black Tie, it’s semi-formal. That means you’ll have to wear that suit you got this summer.”

“Bad news on that, Dad. I tried it on this morning and it doesn’t fit: waist, length, shoulders, everything. I think there’s something in Grandma’s cooking.”

Grandma looked like she was searching through her bag the whole time Dad and I were talking, not paying attention to a thing going on around her. That was clearly not the case.

“Lionel, you need a suit too, and I need a new dress. I’ll call Evie and we’ll take you and Tim into Atlanta this afternoon for clothes. James, you’re staying behind – you need to go to the new house and check on the radiant floor heating. Tim had that on his punch list and no one’s gotten to it yet. Do not go into either the master suite bathroom, or Tim’s. I’ve checked that out already with Evie, and everything is good there.”

We all just sat there stunned.

“Did you hear me, gentlemen? Say, ‘Yes, Ma’am,’ to let me know you heard and understood.”

There was a chorus of “Yes, Ma’am,” from around the vehicle. She was on the phone while that occurred, multitasking in a way I hadn’t seen from her yet.

“James, hurry up. You need to clean out the Tahoe yet before we leave. Tim, you’re driving. Make sure you and your grandfather eat something, and go put on a pair of dark socks, and wear your good shoes, the ones that go with the suit you can’t wear anymore. Same goes for you, Lionel, dark socks and good shoes.” She ran a hand through Grandpa’s silver-grey hair. “Have to get you boys in for a haircut, too.”

Dad pulled onto the yard.

“Well? What are you three waiting for? Move!”

The kitchen beckoned me, so I pulled some chicken off its bones, cut it up along with some celery, red onion and mayo, slathered four slices of bread with the mixture, covered them with tomato, lettuce, cheese and another four pieces of bread, and then ended up handing two of the sandwiches to Grandpa. No matter, I had the keys to the Tahoe, and there was more than one drive-through on the way.

Lunch temporarily over, I did as I had been bid, stopping first to brush and gargle before putting on the shoes and socks that had been commanded. Grandma was waiting for me by our ride.

“Took you long enough.”

Grandpa appeared. In the full daylight his good black shoes were one cut above thrift-store status.

“Oh no, that won’t do!” Her fingers started flying as she texted a message. “We’ll have to stop at a shoe store too.”

Grandpa started to complain.

“Did I say that was optional? Get in the Tahoe. Tim, take us to Evie’s. No, you old goat, you’re sitting in the back.”

Grandma was scary.

“Does she get like this often?” I asked Grandpa while we strode toward our assigned seating.

“I’ve only seen it twice before. Once at our wedding and once when your dad was born. Do what she says, don’t look her in the eyes and we should make it out intact.”

That was the best advice I got all day. We pulled off the yard and onto the road, making our way to the Goddard’s. When we got there, I found that I was to be the ward of Evie and Paige, while Grandpa was the ward of his wife. I remembered Grandpa’s advice, kept my eyes averted, loaded everyone up and set out for Atlanta.

We were halfway to the city when I saw the sign indicating food at the next exit. The Tahoe obediently made the shift into the right-hand lane in preparation for leaving the highway. There was an immediate objection.

“What do you think you’re doing, Tim?” came Grandma’s strident query.

“Nothing, Grandma.” I made sure not to make eye contact, easy enough since she was in the front passenger seat.

“Stay on this highway!”

“Yes, Grandma,” even as the big Tahoe turned down the exit ramp.

“You had better not be heading for that McDonald’s!”

“No, Grandma.” The Tahoe maneuvered into the drive-through.

“Don’t you dare order anything! We’re late enough already.”

“Of course not, Grandma. Yes, I’ll have six hamburgers, large fries, chocolate shake, hey, do any of you want anything? Oh, sure, twenty piece McNuggets with BBQ sauce, another large fry. Grandpa? One Quarter Pounder with cheese, yeah, make it a number two with coke. Grandma? And a number three, with diet coke. Oh, also two more large diet cokes. Did you say thirty-nine thirty-five? Okay, thank you.”

She was laughing as we got to the window to pay. “What am I going to do with you, Tim?”

We got our food. Like every teen, I was proficient at driving and eating at the same time. I was on the highway again before my food was passed up to me from the next row. Apparently Paige had been put in charge of keeping me fed. I found she responded well to a hand passed back over my shoulder, and a request of, “Burger me.”

The Tahoe was a much more jovial place when we got to our first stop. I realized that Grandma’s sewing club connections were being utilized when we walked into the suit place. This was no ready-to-wear joint – these people measured you and made your suit to order. I was concerned over the price, even more so when Grandma patted me on the arm and told me, “You have money, Tim.”

Grandpa and I got measured, double checked, measured again, and then told to rejoin our party. The ladies were examining fabrics. As we came through the curtain, they started holding them up next to us, consulting with Grandma’s people.

No, not that one, it washes him out. That’s too dark, pinstripes are too wide. That’s not something he could wear to church, and so on. It was very similar to Chicago in the sense that I had no say, I was simply along for the ride, the women enjoyed playing dress up, and in the end I didn’t pay for it.

“We’ll have it ready for you by Saturday,” we were told. Grandma took care of everything at the front counter.

Grandpa leaned over to me, “Are you feeling like a piece of meat right now?”

“It gets better, Grandpa.”

“Oh? How?”

“When you’re in your new suit and Grandma’s in her new dress all evening at the open house, how long do you think those clothes will stay on after you get home?”

“You make a good point. Too bad that doesn’t apply to you.”

“Oh, I get some immediate benefits.”

“How so?”

“See those two beautiful ladies over there?” I gestured with my head to indicate Evie and Paige. “They’re going to be fitting shirts on me later this afternoon.”

I left the rest to his imagination.


It was after dark when we finally started making our way home from Atlanta. I would have had as much fun cleaning out porta-potties all day as I did shopping for clothes. The ladies on the other hand were brimming with energy. The last stop we had made was to an upscale fashion house where the three of them got gowns, or dresses, or whatever they were shopping for. Grandpa and I were told we would need to wait off-premises, and they didn’t know how long they’d be. I solved that issue by telling Grandma and Paige to text Grandpa and me respectively when they were done – we’d be back to pick them up. When they agreed to that plan, we took off for pizza.

Once on the highway on the way back, the ladies started making comments about food, but never came right out and said they were hungry. I had seen Mom play this game with Dad and me. It works best when you have a famished male in the car, and the females start to drop hints about favorite meals, which fast food chain has the best burger, that kind of thing. When the driver isn’t ravenous, that tactic falls flat.

I learned this about that game: the ladies are hungry but they don’t want to admit it and look like pigs. They’d rather have the guy they’re with stop, and then they can make the excuse that since we’re here anyway, they’ll have the half pound greaseburger with a side of onion rings, fries, and the deep fried zucchini, ‘cause those are healthy of course. Oh, with ranch dip for everything.

We just kept driving along, passing restaurant after restaurant. Grandma twigged to it first. She was still in the front passenger seat, having appropriated it for the duration I suppose. I think she caught me licking at the corner of my mouth where there must have been some sauce lodged. No offense to Grandma, but she was on me like a ferret sniffing around its favorite food source.

“You two had pizza.”

I pled the fifth. Actually, I just shut up. As the saying goes, it’s better to be thought a glutton than to let your stomach gurgle and prove it. It’s not an exact quote, but close enough.

“Lionel, did you two stop for pizza?”

Don’t answer her, Grandpa, don’t answer her or I swear on the next job, I will affix your foot through your boot to the flooring with a sixteen penny nail. I guess I still have a lot to learn about marriage – he was aware of the consequences for a non-answer.

That rat-bastard sold me out. “Tim made me do it.”

The women couldn’t stop laughing.

“Okay ladies, it’s our turn now. Where do we want to go?” Grandma was back in charge. There was a brief discussion full of falsehoods such as salad, cottage cheese, watching my weight and so on.

“Tim, it’s decided. Next Cracker Barrel you see, pull in.”

Hmm, I could eat again.


Monday we were back at school, and for once, I didn’t have the house hanging over me. I was able to pay attention in class and no longer had to step out to deal with the small things that Grandpa pushed on me. I enjoyed the day.

Lunch was good, too. Now that Paige was aware of the reason I had been distant, she was back at my side. Gloria was still hanging around as well, having never abandoned me – that kind of loyalty should be rewarded.

“Gloria, weren’t you saying something about a big open house coming up soon?” I held my finger to my lips to signal Paige not to ruin the surprise. Gloria was rooting around in her bag for something, missing the gesture.

“Yeah, Mom says there’s a new builder in the area that is nationally known for their high-end offerings and it’s going to be at a house they just finished. She wants to go to rub shoulders with the rich and powerful. I just think it would be neat to see the details of the house. I’ve always been interested in architecture.” She finally looked up, having found what she was searching for. “Why do you ask?”

Oh, this was going to be too easy. “Do you really want to go, or are you just saying that because of your mom?”

“No, I’d like to go. Again, why do you ask?”

“Do you have a nice dress? Like a cocktail type of dress that would be appropriate at a semi-formal party?”

Gloria was starting to look suspicious. “What’s going on here?”

Paige was hitting me on the arm, trying to get me to come to the point and stop torturing her friend. I had thought about how to do this. “Well, you know I work for my grandpa sometimes, right?”

“Yeah.”

“He knows some people through his business who are invited to the party, and he told me he might be able to wrangle an invitation for me and a guest if I wanted it. I’m thinking of attending if he can get me the invite. Would you like to go?”

Gloria gave me a cross look, “Don’t you dare pull my leg on this, Tim McKenzie. I’d love to be there. Just how do you think you and your grandpa can pull this off?”

“Well,” I said, looking at Paige, “Grandpa says that he and the designer’s principal have some mutual friends, and the woman has essentially been a mother to one of them. He thinks there’s a high likelihood that he can do this for me.”

Yeah, I bent the truth a little, but I really wanted to surprise Gloria. “Do you think you’d like to go? And don’t forget that you would need a cocktail dress. Maybe you could go shopping with Paige. I hear she likes dressing up other people.”

“Tim, you better not be promising more than you can deliver. Yes, I’d like to go.”

“Good, if you give me your home address, I’ll see that you get an invitation.” She made me write down her information. “Oh, and one other thing, Gloria. This is for you, not your mother. There will be security, and they’ll be checking names against the invitation list at the door.”

Gloria left our table, excited for the chance to see the architecture, and practically bursting at the seams to tell the rest of her friends. I was content, sitting with Paige and enjoying the last few minutes of lunch.

“There’s going to be security? How do you know? Mom hasn’t said anything about that.”

“I have no idea, but I’ll bet there will be. It only makes sense with the list of attendees she’s compiled. I just said that so Gloria can tell her mother when the invitation arrives. I want her to come, not her relatives.”

Something else occurred to Paige, “You dog! You know that you just asked out another girl in front of the one you’re back to dating?”

Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. This was a new problem that I hadn’t ever dealt with before. “Uh, sorry?” I rambled on for a while, trying to explain myself and offering different scenarios for correcting things. It wasn’t going well for me, and Paige’s expression kept growing darker by the minute. It finally came to me what she wanted.

“Help me?”

“Better. Next time tell me what you’re planning before you go and get in over your head. I’ll talk to her and smooth this out.” I got a slap to the back of my noggin. “That was for asking out another girl in front of me. Now, let’s get to class.”


The rest of the week went smoothly. I could tell when Gloria’s invitation came in the mail, as she was giddy and squealing with Paige and her girlfriends the next day. I just braved the assault on my ears and went to class.

Saturday arrived, which meant we were only a week away from the big reveal. Dad and Mrs. Goddard had been working on the details together all week, sometimes at Grandma and Grandpa’s and sometimes elsewhere. I finally asked the question that had been bugging me ever since I got a look at the guest list.

“Dad, where is everyone going to park?”

He was distracted by something else, “What, Tim?”

“I presume that you don’t want to have everyone just drive up and park on the front lawn, do you? So where are we going to put all the cars?” The landscapers had just finished putting in sod, and I didn’t want my new front lawn trashed.

His attention was completely on me now, panic on his face. “I don’t think anyone has considered that.”

“What about the cleared area for the heavy equipment storage by the new shop and shed? Would that be big enough to accommodate everyone?”

“Let’s check with your grandfather, he’s been managing that project. I’ll call Evie to see if she’s considered parking.”

It was a quick walk out to Grandpa’s shop where he was working on something this morning. “Pop,” my father asked, “where are you on the shed area? Do we have gravel back there, or is it all dirt still?”

Grandpa raised his head from his project, “Right now we have the pads poured for both buildings. I was going to have the steel delivered and frames erected this week. Aside from that, it’s still all dirt and ruts. Why, what’s going on?”

Dad held up a finger to forestall him. “Evie,” he said into his phone, “what were you thinking of for parking on Friday night? Oh ... no, that won’t work ... Yeah, we’re talking about that right now ... We’re wondering if we can use the equipment yard behind the hill to park all the cars ... No, it’s just dirt right now ... I’ll see if Dad can take care of that ... We can put in a gravel path from the house over to the yard and shuttle everyone back and forth to their cars ... Valet parking, that should do it ... We’ll take care of things and I’ll talk to you later.”

The phone was put back in his pocket, “Pop, we’re going to need to get that equipment lot leveled, packed and graveled all this week. Do you think you can take care of that?”

Grandpa must have eaten something that didn’t agree with him. “I can’t, James. Evie’s got me working on all sorts of niggling details at the house.”

He glanced over to me. “Tim, I have no idea how you juggled all this and still had time for school – that woman is running me ragged.”

A little laugh escaped me. It was always like that when we were finishing a project with tight timeframes.

Grandpa turned his attention back to Dad. “Can’t you take care of it, James?”

“No, I’m flying back to Chicago for a couple of days this week, and then I have to go to Minneapolis. I leave Monday morning and won’t be back until late Thursday.” He had an idea. “How are you feeling, Tim? Think you can handle this one?”

I could probably do this in my sleep, but that wasn’t what Dad was asking. He wanted to know if I had recovered from nearly working myself into a coma to be able to take this on. “Yeah, I can do this. I’ll use the same paving guys that did our driveway. They do good work but they’ll want a premium since this is going to be a rush job.”

Dad didn’t bat an eye. “No problem. Talk to them about what we plan to store on the lot after all this is done. Make sure they put the right size stone down and get good drainage in. I want this done once, and done right.”

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