The Dance - Cover

The Dance

Copyright© 2021 by Rooftop Herald

Chapter 39

Sunday was all that I could have hoped for, and then some. We had a quiet breakfast dressed in our church finery followed by devotions. I think this was the scene that Paige must have imagined when she asked me to take the lead on our daily walk with God. After prayer, I asked which vehicle we should use, both the Tahoe and the Audi being currently garaged. She informed me that when she thought of me, the image of me getting out of the big SUV always came to mind. We drove to church in that.

Sunday school hadn’t started for the year, so we got there in time for the service. Grandma and Grandpa were waiting for us in the foyer, giving both of us big hugs before we were issued our bulletins and then found a pew that could accommodate the four of us. Paige sang the hymns with her usual angelic voice, not daring to laugh at any of the lyrics. Afterward we were invited to Grandma’s new house for a brisket lunch. When we got there, we were put to work preparing the table while Grandpa basked.

“We missed you guys,” he told us as we all sat down to eat. After praying, we ate while catching up on how things had gone after we left them in Chicago. It turned out that Grandpa had been in demand as a pizza-oven builder, the Emersons having made good on their promise to have him put one in. Of course, in that income bracket, once one family had something, all of their friends had to have the same thing.

Grandpa opined that it was unlikely that more than three or four of the ten he had crafted would ever see use. It was all good to him, particularly because he had hired a mason to help, and he and his wife had become good friends with the McKenzies. The oven the two of them put in the local’s backyard definitely saw use, the description of which had us laughing at the fun that they had around hand-made pies.

I had packed my Surface in the Tahoe with us and now that we had caught up on the grandparents’ experiences, I showed them a slideshow of the houses we had built. Grandpa and I eventually ended up talking construction while Grandma corralled Paige to help her clean up, although I’m sure it was also to have some girl-talk time.

At three o’clock, Paige and I needed to leave so we could pick up the folks at the Atlanta airport. We made the hour-long drive and were just pulling onto the airport’s frontage roads when Paige got a text from Mom asking how close we were. That worked out really well for everyone as their plane had been a little early so they had grabbed their luggage and were waiting at the curb when I pulled up in the white zone. Three minutes of loading and we were once again on our way, the parents in the seats behind us.

I have no idea what women talk about all the time, but apparently there was a week’s worth of information that needed to be shared between mother and daughter. Dad left them to it, getting into mischief of his own while I drove us back home. His brand of hooliganry meant that he took out my Surface, booted it up, and found the spreadsheet that Paige had been keeping on the frequency of the copulation for the two of them. She had done a really nice job, charting out the “Oh Gods,” and the “Right there, yes,” along with legends for moaning.

Dad misinterpreted it, his voice going frosty.

“Just what exactly is this, Tim?”

He showed it to Evie and the temperature in the vehicle dropped precipitously. Since I was driving, he showed it to Paige and let her whisper to me.

“Oh ... I think maybe Paige can explain it. She was responsible for keeping track.”

“Paige?”

Dad cut that off. “I asked you, Tim. If this is what I think it is, I’m really disappointed in you. We trusted the two of you and you gave your promises. Care to explain?”

Evie had been studying it as Dad took me to task. She saw something about the week after Paige had left that he had missed, and tried futilely to get his attention.

“Not now, Honey. I want to know why Tim betrayed my trust.”

In the rearview mirror I saw the pinch and intense look she gave him.

“Paige, I’d really appreciate it if you’d jump in about now. I want us to get home in one piece,” I implored.

She didn’t say anything aloud but there was a whispered conversation with her mother followed by one that Evie had with Dad. The adults in the second row were flaming red by the time that little talk ended. Dad broke the silence.

“Sorry, Tim. I jumped to conclusions. The walls were that thin?”

Paige replied for us, “I don’t think so ... you guys were demonstrative.”

He really turned red at that. “But you two kept your promises?”

“We did.”

Paige nodded in confirmation. “We did, although I think there’s a little bit of Italian in Tim that he lets out when he sleeps. He has these ‘Rome’in hands.”

Evie let out a little blurb of laughter that let her daughter know that it was apparently an inherited trait.

“Oh, so Mom knows what I’m talking about. Well ... Gloria found out too.”

Of course that statement required an explanation, and the talk got far more personal than I ever thought I’d have with my dad. Maybe, maybe ... one day after I was married. For now we were all living under the same roof. Paige told them of our realization last night and our solution for the near future, at least until we got hitched. That satisfied the folks, although they kept laughing at the shock it must have been to Gloria.

Dad just had to ask me. “And you were completely unaware you were doing this?”

“Oblivious, Dad.”

The next question went to Paige. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

Evie saved her from answering. “James, you’re nobody’s fool.” Her voice had that sniping quality about it. “Figure it out for yourself.”

Mother and daughter shared a moment. “Men!”

In response, Dad extended his fist up between the front row seats and I gave him a bump. He turned to Evie. “That’s my boy!”


School started on Monday with Paige and me needing to decide whether we were going to keep lifting in the weight room on Monday, Wednesday and Fridays. It wouldn’t be as easy to access during the fall as the football players would all be in there. We decided not to, opting for our home gym instead and the quality equipment we had installed there. On the first day of school, we got acquainted with our classes. This year Paige and I had five together, the difference being in our P.E. periods. Since I wasn’t in any sport, I took P.E. earlier than she did – hers was the last class of the day and sort of merged with volleyball practice.

This meant that when my school day was done, she still had another hour to go. I decided to hang around and wait for her – it would give me an opportunity to do homework while she practiced. Since I didn’t have any commitments to build anything, I was free for the afternoons and evenings. It was actually kind of a weird feeling to have all that free time, particularly after the summer we had just finished.

When practice was over, Paige came out of the gym freshly showered and looked around for me. I bundled up my Surface which contained all of my textbooks in electronic format and stood up, making it easier for her to locate me. We came together to walk to my pickup and then go home. I asked about her day and she about mine. It was nice!

At home, Paige had a surprise for me. “I thought that we could sit down and discuss colleges while our workload was still light.” She motioned for me to bring my Surface, she had her MacBook, and she led me to the dining room table where we could spread out. “Now tell me, Mr. Tim McKenzie, just what kind of degree are you interested in?”

The summer I spent supervising the two builds in Minnesota had led me to think about Construction Management but I was also interested in the architecture side of it as well. I mentioned my thoughts to Paige and she pursed her lips carefully before breaking into a smile.

“I thought that might be the case. I did some research while you weren’t here last week.”

Paige opened her laptop and showed me the schools she had found that offered either a degree or multiple degrees in that area. High on the list was University of Washington.

“See anything you might like in there?”

She had done her homework.

“I do. But that’s me. What about you?”

“Well, I want to go where you go, so I looked at schools with a good reputation in your field and in mine. Guess what?”

She showed me the matrix of rankings and University of Washington came out as the best school when both majors were considered. Sure there were others like Northwestern that had better rankings for business but didn’t have the construction side to them. I decided to defer to her judgment.

“To how many do you want to apply?”

Paige looked happy. “Top five on the matrix.”

I looked at her lists again and didn’t see anything that would be objectionable. “Okay. Where do I sign?”

We spent the rest of the afternoon and evening filling out applications and making sure we had the appropriate references available. The one thing I was short on was the external and civic activities that colleges like to see. Aside from that, both Paige and I had scored very well on the SATs and the other college entrance exams we had taken, so we weren’t worried about academic eligibility. Paige had an answer for me when I expressed concern over my application.

“I thought about that, Babe, and I think I have the answer.” She waited until I met her eyes. “You know those picnic tables you built for the party and then donated to our local Parks and Recreation Department? Put that down for now. Later this week, head on down to city hall and see if they need more work like that. Volunteer with them.”

That was perfect, and I loved her all the more for thinking ahead like that.

“I like it. I’ll see what I can do.”

By the end of the evening, we had filled out several online applications and had some paper versions of others nearly complete. Mom and Dad left us alone for the most part, only jumping in when we needed information, such as income levels for financial aid. I was pretty sure neither of us would qualify for anything but the most basic aid, although with our academic standings we might get scholarships, and with Paige’s athletic ability there may be some money there, too. I’m pretty sure that Dad was proud to see his alma mater listed high on our choices.


After spending a few minutes on our walkie-talkies, both Paige and I called it a night. Morning came quickly, and school beckoned to both of us whether we were ready or not. We quickly settled into our routine as established in the spring. We’d exercise in the morning before school – Dad and I were still at the ‘Y’ for boxing classes on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, at least when he was home, and the off days were workouts in the home gym.

School took up most of the rest of my day, and then Paige had either practice or a match in late afternoon or evening. Since I wasn’t working right now, I attended every one of the girl’s games and waited for Paige after each practice. I also took her suggestion and ran with it. The Parks Department was happy to have volunteers, although most of what I ended up doing on Saturdays was deferred maintenance on some of their more neglected buildings. Still, I engaged some of my friends from school and we enjoyed many of the Saturdays in the fall.

Coach Saunders had followed through on her promise and had contacted her former Olympic teammate in Atlanta. Coach Eliot’s schedule allowed her to drive to Macon once a week on Wednesday afternoons and spend the practices putting on mini clinics for the Jefferson High School team. As a result, the girls had begun to dominate their matches, with Paige leading in kills and blocks for our region.

It was interesting at home, hearing Evie’s phone ringing in the evenings, as Paige had made her the point of contact for the recruiting from Colleges that was picking up steam. She, and by extension we, were disappointed that we hadn’t heard from University of Washington. Evie would get the information from the recruiters and later relay it to Paige. UGA wanted her, so did Florida, and that set the tone for most of the recruitment; they were essentially Southern, East-Coast schools. When Evie caught the growing sense of frustration from her daughter she made a suggestion.

“You’re serious about Washington?”

Paige nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Then give them a call. They may not be recruiting because they’re West Coast and you’re not. Just check with them, maybe send them a highlight clip – I’m sure Tim has already made more than one of those for you.”

That was all it took for Paige to get the ball rolling. The following afternoon she contacted the University of Washington’s Athletic Department and dropped names like Saunders and Eliot into the ear of the Athletic Director’s staff. Two days later she got the phone call she had wanted.

“This is Paige.” She listened for a bit. “You talked to Coach Saunders and Eliot? Oh, I didn’t know that ... Yes, I applied already ... Well, my boyfriend is from the Seattle area originally and UW is one of the best schools in both his and my fields of study ... Yes, we both want to go there ... Tim McKenzie ... He applied at the same time I did ... Oh, we’ve both been accepted? That’s good ... No, we hadn’t heard yet ... Well, I called because I love playing volleyball and was wondering if there would be a chance for me to do that at UW.”

She listened intently and then put her hand over the phone, “They say they hadn’t recruited me because of my region and the fact that they thought they didn’t stand a chance.” Her attention returned to what the AD was saying.

“Yes, I’ll send you the link to the clips my boyfriend made. Everything on them is from this year ... Thank you ... Actually I play golf too, but I don’t know if I’m good enough for that team ... Why don’t we start there and maybe I can walk on in the spring ... Okay, I’ll look forward to hearing from you. Thank you again. Goodbye.”

She was jumping up and down when the call ended.

“The AD said they thought they could swing a scholarship for me if I turned out to be the real deal. I have to send them the links to YouTube and then we wait, but I found out that my coaches had already spoken to their staff and recommended me.”

Her happiness was contagious and I found myself congratulating her. “That’s great, Sweet Pea. By the way, did I hear you say we were accepted already?”

“Yes, that’s the other thing.” She was almost giddy. “The Athletic Department had Admissions look it up while we were on the phone and our letters have already been sent. They should be here by tomorrow.”

I didn’t realize how anxious I had been to get into UW. As soon as I heard that, it felt as if a huge weight had been lifted, and it must have shown on my face.

“You were worried for both of us, weren’t you?” Paige’s hand came up to caress my cheek. “That only makes me love you more. Come on, let’s go tell Mom and Dad.”

We found them and the news was spread. It was very likely that we’d be attending UW next year.

Pillow walkie-talkie talk that night gave me a chance to open up about my fears to Paige. I told her that I worried about things like that. I worried about her safety when we weren’t together. I worried that she could get hurt on the volleyball court.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was, to hear that she worried about me too: getting injured on the job, my wellbeing given the pressures that Dad sometimes put me under and that I had a tendency to push myself too hard at times. That was the kind of talk that built intimacy around the vulnerabilities that we shared with each other.


The next day, Saturday, dawned like most days, only I had a plan for this Saturday. Due to the schedules of school and sports, we hadn’t been able to have a proper date lately. So, earlier in the week, I had told Dad he was mowing the lawn this weekend and asked Evie if she would take Paige’s chores so that we could have a day free from responsibilities. Dad laughed at the way I had gone about it but congratulated me on not talking to Evie the way I did to him. I told him that he hadn’t raised a stupid kid which made him laugh again.

Saturday was my chance to spend the day with Paige, and I pulled a play from Dad’s book, setting up a full outing in Savannah. In the morning I woke her, asking her to get showered and dressed, as I had a surprise for her. While she was attending to that, I prepared her favorite breakfast meal, sneaking some fresh Georgia peaches into her yogurt and granola. Her coffee was made to the strength she enjoyed and doctored as she liked it. When she came downstairs to meet me, I handed her the small bunch of flowers I had cut from our various planter beds.

“To what do I owe this effusive display?” she wanted to know.

My head dipped in acknowledgment. “Nice use of vocabulary by the way.” I led her over to the table set for her. “Today is a day to let you know how I feel about you. We’ve both been busy and haven’t had a real date in almost a month, so I rearranged our schedules in order to give us the day off. Dad’s taking my chores, and Mom has yours.”

Her eyes sparkled at me. “And what do you propose we do with all of our free time?”

“Well I thought maybe we could spend the day in Savannah. It was a better idea earlier in the week when the weather was clear, but I’ll tell you a lesson I learned from Dad over a year ago. Sometimes it’s about the destination, but more often it’s the journey that makes it worthwhile. I’m sure that whatever we do today I’m going to have fun even in the middle of a thundering deluge simply because I’m with you. What do you say?”

That bowl of breakfast got emptied faster than I had ever seen it disappear before. “I say, yes!”

I was ready to go at that, but Paige waited at the table for something else. It finally dawned on me that she wanted for us to start with devotions – a very good place to start. I was tempted to rush, but ended up pacing myself as we read the portions for that day and then prayed together.

That was step one of the journey.


We grabbed our rain gear from the front closet before making our way to the garage. For today’s trip I had packed a cooler full of each of our favorite snack foods and drinks – some healthy, others less so. There was coffee in travel mugs already placed in the cup holders of the Tahoe, that I steered my girl toward. In addition, I had also loaded our entire music library onto the Surface and brought it with me. That was now synched to the SUV’s audio system and the control over it was handed off to Paige.

“Ready?”

She nodded, smiling. “I have this feeling of anticipation. I can hardly keep still.”

I was laughing as I pulled the vehicle from the garage and into the slow drizzle that the weatherman had forecast. I felt so close to Paige at that moment, and she didn’t even know why, so as we transitioned from our driveway onto the first of the roads we’d take that day, I shared with her the beginnings of Dad’s and my adventure, leaving Seattle and ending up in Macon. We were underway perhaps fifteen minutes already before I finished my tale, the little silence at the end of my sharing like an exclamation point on the beginning of our trip.

Eventually the drone of the tires, the splattering of raindrops and the rhythmic whap of the wipers registered. Paige asked about music.

“In your hands, Sweet Pea, you hold the entire combined music library of the joint Mercer-McKenzie household. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to play a set-list of travelling tunes for us. You are the official DJ for this quest.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Quest? And what exactly are we questing for?”

I had no idea. The word had popped into my mind and out of my mouth, so in that spirit, I stayed in the moment. “We’ll know it when we find it.”

She liked that, fingers flying over the tablet, teeth showing in a killer smile, and it wasn’t long before the first strains of the theme from the movie 2001 began softly playing through the cab of the Tahoe.

“Perfect choice! Now, do that again and again, and again...”

The ride was three hours in the wet, maybe more, and that woman kept the music rolling amidst our conversations. It was another way for us to learn about each other and grow together. Every so often, she’d play a selection that made her close her eyes and sit back in the bucket seat, serenity suffusing her. I was surprised to see her do that more than once to the music that I knew Dad and I had brought into the mix. She asked me about my choices, playing some of them – for each of my favorites there was a likable counterpart from the Mercer collection.

I learned that my girl had a lot of depth to her. I had already known that but she opened herself up and showed me more. There were themes to her selections – classical, country, pop and others, pieces from the various genres grouped in little bursts like peas from a pod, shelled into a bowl. She didn’t stop there, dispensing sound by decade, by artist, by matching soul to weather. Those three hours of highway vanished behind us borne off by musical notes into the background of our day. Paige was exhilarated when we arrived at our first destination and I was right there with her.

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