Livora Gracely

A little silver in her hair. A whole dance in her laughter.

The Best Chair

“We’ve saved you the best chair,” Rosa said.

“Lovely,” said her mother. “Where can I change my shoes?”

Rosa looked down at the small bag beside the turquoise skirt.

“Oh. You brought those.”

“Was I meant to bring something else?”

“No, Mamá. I just thought you’d want to sit near the front.”

Carmen glanced towards the chair. Her granddaughter had put a cushion on it, and someone had arranged a little table within reach.

“That will be very nice afterwards.”

Rosa smiled, then took the bag from her hand.

“Come through here.”

In the hallway, Carmen sat to change. From the other room came greetings, the scrape of chairs, and her grandson asking whether anyone had seen the cable for the speaker.

Her Own Plans

Rosa knelt to move Carmen’s outdoor shoes beneath the bench.

“Would you like to dance before the children?”

“After. I’d like to see them.”

“And which music?”

Carmen named her choice. Rosa repeated it, making sure she had heard correctly, then went to tell her son.

Carmen fastened the strap of her second shoe. She had tried the passage at home that morning, moving the rug aside first. The turn she wanted was a little smaller now than the one she remembered doing years ago. She liked how the skirt followed it.

Her granddaughter Eva appeared at the door.

“Are you dancing too?”

“Yes.”

“Have you practised?”

“This morning.”

Eva considered that, then offered Carmen the flower she had been carrying.

“For your hair.”

Carmen bent her head so the girl could help put it in. A silver curl escaped beside her ear.

“Is it straight?”

Eva stepped back.

“It is now.”

A Whole Dance

Carmen watched the children from her excellent chair. Eva missed a step, glanced at her brother, and found her place again. Carmen clapped at the end, while Eva bowed much lower than anyone expected.

Then Rosa looked towards her mother.

“Ready?”

Carmen set her glass on the little table and stood.

The first notes reached her before she reached the open floor. She let them pass, settled her feet, and lifted one arm.

The room grew quiet.

Her shoe sounded against the boards. She moved into the passage she had chosen, drawing the turquoise fabric out to one side. Pale folds lifted beneath it, then swept round her legs as she turned.

Someone gave a delighted little shout. Carmen recognised her sister’s voice and laughed, almost answering aloud.

Instead, she finished the next movement.

Her earrings brushed her neck. She could feel warmth beneath the lace at her shoulders, and the familiar pull of the skirt in her hand.

At the ending, she held her arm out for a moment, smiling towards her sister.

The clapping began.

Carmen lowered her hand, took a breath, and made a small bow of her own.

“Now,” she said to Rosa, “I’ll have that chair.”

Show Me That

Eva arrived before Carmen had finished her water.

“How did you do this?”

She raised her hand and twisted it, watching her fingers with a frown.

“Sit beside me.”

Carmen moved her bag from the neighbouring chair. Eva sat, her shoes swinging above the floor.

“Slowly,” Carmen said, showing the movement again.

Eva tried. Her little finger stuck out as though it had somewhere else to go.

Carmen touched it gently. Eva tried once more, then lifted her chin and turned her head with a splendid, knowing smile.

Carmen stopped watching the hand.

“Where did you get that face?”

“From you.”

“Did I look like that?”

Eva demonstrated again, adding a tiny laugh.

Across the room, Carmen’s sister saw them and began laughing too.

Carmen set down her glass. She lifted her chin, held out her hand, and gave Eva the smile properly.

Eva answered with one of her own.