Dancing for the Lord The Academy

Chapter Eleven

Somehow, Nicholas made it to the performance that night. He and Danni both know that he hadn’t been able to do nearly enough damage control on his shoulder; but she also understood the pride that wouldn’t allow him to step down.

He didn’t have an understudy, either. If he stepped down, whoever stepped into his place was going to have little idea of what they were doing, and absolutely no time to practice. There was no one else who had gone over the steps with Danni—no one save Josh and Logan who had even danced with her once, and both of them had integral roles in the ballet.

They would get him through this evening—one way or the other.

Danni waited in the wings throughout the entire first act of the ballet. She knew full well that there wasn’t room to clutter up the space back there, and she did her best to keep herself out of the way; but as she made herself inconspicuous and stayed where she could keep Nick in sight the entire time.

He went through the steps of the dance almost unconsciously, performing with the ease of someone who had been over that routine over and over again, until they no longer had to think about the movements. If nothing else, the morning’s practice had done that much for him, giving him the ability to tune out everything going on around him and simply dance.

He wasn’t dancing for the Lord tonight. He knew it—could feel it in the leaden nature of every step, the faint slowing with every twirl. When he gave it all over and danced for God, he felt as though he was light as air, with more energy than he knew what to do with.

Tonight, he was dancing just to get by.

His only saving grace was that Danni was there. Between scenes, whenever he was off-stage, she found a moment to squeeze his shoulder gently, or even just to look into his eyes for a moment. He used her for his spot with every turn, his eyes always coming back to her.

At the worst of it—as he whisked Allie as Clara through yet another swift swoop, feeling his shoulder shake with the effort—he looked up and met her steady, understanding gaze. Her lips were moving; and though he couldn’t make out the words, Nick knew that she was praying for him.

It surprised him just how much of a relief that was. Danni was praying—that meant that the hand of God was resting on him.

And that hand was there. He could feel God’s presence surrounding him, stronger arms than his holding Allie up when he was sure that he would fail. A gentle hand kept his in the air as he waited for her, stilled the trembling so that it wouldn’t be obvious even in the front row of the audience.

Danni saw it—he knew she did. She saw it, and prayed all the harder for him because of it—but she didn’t say a word. No one else, looking at her, would have realized that she was the least bit worried about anything.

Allie had to have felt his shaking. He was almost sure that she did—but she didn’t offer even as much as a reassuring squeeze of her fingers. She didn’t care enough about him to reassure him.

Nick barely noticed. Danni cared. Danni was praying.

At last, the first act was over. There was a flurry of movement backstage as the techs went to change the backgrounds, to make sure that the next set of props were in place for the next dance.

Danni was at his side the second he stepped into the wings, spiriting him away. Behind him, they both heard Allie say, “Nicholas—“

They ignored her, pretending that they didn’t hear above the rush of noise. “Come on,” Danni told him. “You can hide out in my dressing room for a little while.”

Nick took her up on the offer in spite of the fact that he knew full well that anyone who seriously wanted to find him would know exactly where to look. If he wasn’t in his own dressing room, he would have to be in Danni’s.

“Get some ice on that shoulder.” She bullied him into easing down on the floor, bracing his back and shoulder against the wall.

“I don’t exactly have an ice pack in here.” Nick knew full well that his face was dead white and didn’t care. At least it was just Danni back here—and Danni would understand. She wouldn’t dream of giving him a hard time about any of it. She was just here, giving him a few minutes’ peace before he had to take to the stage again.

“You—“ she began.

“If I go out there, I’m going to have to admit to Androv that I’m not holding up well.” He pointed this out grimly, as though he expected Danni to have missed it.

“You don’t have to go out there.” She unzipped her dance bag and pulled an ice pack out of the cooler she had sewn into it a long time before. “Here. Keep this on it, and don’t argue with me anymore.”

He laughed halfheartedly. “You weren’t kidding when you said that bag holds everything, huh?”

Danni shrugged, but he could tell that she was pleased with herself. “Just in case,” she said lightly. “I wasn’t sure you would need it, but if you had and it hadn’t been there….”

He just nodded, doing his best not to think too hard about how much it would have killed him to not be able to get to the ice.

There was nothing but silence between them for several minutes. Nick was doing his best to get his shoulder to relax; but all his efforts seemed to be doing was adding to the pain.

“I don’t think I can do it, Danni.” He leaned back against the wall, letting the bag of ice fall away. It wasn’t doing him any good anyway. Mostly, it was just making the pain that much worse—and that much harder to bear. “I’m not going to make our pas de deux.“

“Sure you are,” she said, so fiercely that he actually opened his eyes to look at her.

“I know it’s going to be hard for you.” He grimaced, clearly believing that she was angry with him, that her sharp words were in response to his admission of guilt. “Maybe Androv—“

“You’re not listening,” Danni said simply. “We’re partners. We’ll take care of each other out there.”

“There’s no way.” He wasn’t even moving his shoulder, she noticed sympathetically—wasn’t moving much at all unless he absolutely had to. “I might make a lift or two if the ice will just start working, but if I try to run the full routine out there—“ He grimaced and forced himself to put the ice back in place. No matter how much it hurt now, it was going to help later…he hoped.

“Then we won’t do it. Listen.” Hurriedly, Danni reached for a pencil and sketched out a few lines of choreography, grateful that Carolyn had taught her how to write out her ideas a long time ago. “We’ll just make a few changes. Here…and here….” Within a matter of moments, she had outlined the entire pas de deux, removing a lift here, changing it there so that it was his left arm bearing all of her weight. “We can do this.” They had to do this. She knew that it probably would have been better for Nick if he just bowed out, but she wasn’t about to give Katarina the pleasure. The other girl was not going to win—not like this.

Nicholas stared at her as though he had never seen her before. “Are you sure this will work?” he demanded, his eyes roving over the page as he struggled to absorb it all.

“Positive.” She shrugged lightly. “It’s not perfect, but it’ll keep your shoulder from having to bear any more weight tonight.” She frowned suddenly. “Except…don’t you have to carry Clara back to the sleigh? Maybe….” There wasn’t much she could do about that one, she realized bitterly. Allie was still refusing to admit that Nicholas might actually have a problem with his shoulder; and as hard as she had been on him earlier that day, there was no way he was going to be able to convince her of the need to shift the routine now.

“I can manage that much. She’s mostly resting on the left anyway.” Though as snotty as Allie had been earlier, it wouldn’t surprise him if she reversed the movement. No—she was the stickler for detail. If she suddenly reversed the movement now, everyone would know that she was trying to set him off-balance.

And in his fairer moments, Nick had to admit that she probably wasn’t trying to hurt him. The truth was, if he went to Allie right now and seriously told her that he was hurting, she would be as understanding as anyone else out there. She might be annoyed enough to suggest that he just bow out and let someone else have the role for the night, but she wouldn’t go out of her way to hurt him more, either.

He studied Danni’s new choreography again—thankfully, he, too, had been through a few lessons in basic choreography and knew how to write it down—and considered it. It might just work.

The certainty washed over him all at once, a gentle reassurance straight from the Lord. He could do this. It would be enough. “Danni, you’re a life-saver!” He bounded to his feet and hugged her tightly, the ice pack falling away. “I was dreading going out there and telling Androv that I couldn’t dance, but with this….” He stopped suddenly, despair breaking in again. “It’s going to get us in a lot of trouble, isn’t it? Fooling around with Androv’s choreography. He’ll never agree, and there’s not even time to practice it….”

“Just make sure you remember your cues,” she informed him. “And keep in mind that this is more a recital than anything else. It’s our families out there, not some reviewer.”

“Right.” The reviewer would be tomorrow night—and Nicholas already planned to make sure that Allie couldn’t find him all morning. He sighed. “Can you do this?” It was a serious question. The moves she’d sketched out for herself were a little bit more strenuous than the original, pulling the attention of the audience to her instead of keeping it torn between the two of them. For him, it was nothing shy of a blessing. For Danni….

“No problem.” She pulled him back, hugging him again, then let him go. “Now, get that shoulder iced so that you can do what you need to do out there.”

He obeyed, resting his head against the wall again as he settled the ice pack back on his shoulder. “You going to tell Androv?” she wanted to know.

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding me? Far better to ask forgiveness than permission, in this case.”

Nicholas nodded. “I agree,” he said firmly. “What he doesn’t know about beforehand, he can’t use as a reason to pull me and leave you without a partner.” He eyed her. “You do realize that this is going way beyond the call of duty, right? I mean, you could dance it with somebody else. At this point, Androv would toss on a costume and get out there with you.”

“I’m not dancing with anyone but you tonight.” She brushed a hand lightly over his hair, a gesture that was intended to be soothing. “Besides, who else knows to cue me a third of the way through the dance when I lose track, huh?”

Nicholas laughed, and if the sound came out a little husky, they both pretended not to notice. “I owe you, Danni,” he said seriously. She didn’t really need his cue; he knew that. No, she was doing this just for him, with a gentleness and compassion that he certainly didn’t deserve.

“You don’t owe me anything.” She grinned. “Though if you insist, I might take a partnership deal when The Nutcracker is over.” The longer she danced with him, the surer she was of this. Nicholas was a good man, a good partner—and he was the one she wanted at her side. He was the one she wanted to dance with for just as long as possible.

“You’d be willing to put up with me again?” He sounded a little bit incredulous.

“I think so.” Danni stood, albeit reluctantly. “We need to go,” she told him. “Allie’s going to be missing you.”

Nicholas made a face, easing the ice off of his shoulder. “It would be really cruel to hold this for a few more seconds, then have hands of ice when I escort her, wouldn’t it?” he muttered.

Danni giggled—but she did take it away from him. “You have to dance with me, too,” she pointed out. “And I don’t need cold hands on top of compensating for your lack of balance.”

He stuck his tongue out at her—but he didn’t disagree. He knew full well that he was off-balance on all of their lifts, and adding in new ones was just going to make things worse.

“In the wings!” someone yelled.

They exchanged a look; and then, as one, they set everything else aside. It was time to dance.

For the next little while, Danni was barely aware of anything but Nicholas. The audience was there, but in a vague way. Their fellow dancers were there; but again, she acknowledged them with only a passing familiarity. She just danced her heart out—danced for an audience of exactly two.

She danced for Nicholas…and she danced, as always, for God.

Suddenly—too fast, it seemed—it was over, and Nicholas was leading her forward for that final bow. The two of them linked hands. His, she noted with amusement, were cool in spite of the fact that she’d taken his ice pack away.

His smile was stunningly brilliant.

They’d managed every step of the dance perfectly, pulling off her changes as though they had done them a hundred times. Never once had they missed so much as a step; and while Nicholas’s weaker arm might have trembled as he carried Clara back to the sleigh, Danni was sure that only she had been able to see.

“We did it,” he whispered, relieved.

“That we did.” She squeezed his hand, realizing as she did that he’d instinctively given her the right, putting her on his bad side rather than allowing someone else access. “Are you okay?”

“Hurting.” He grimaced. “But I’ll be okay tomorrow. It’s not nearly as bad as it could have been.”

“Good. I was worried about you.” Danni tugged him a little bit closer as the curtain closed for a final time. “What do you say we make our appearance at this little after party short?”

Nicholas looked deeply relieved. “I’d say that sounds like a plan.” He slipped an arm around her shoulders, ignoring the chatter of the other dancers around them. “You sure you don’t mind? I’ll stay if you’d rather.”

“My family’s not coming up anyway,” Danni reminded him. “Dad didn’t have time to get the time off, and Mom didn’t want to make the drive without him.”

“Rough,” he said lightly, draping his arm around her shoulders. “If I admit to a heavy dose of relief, are you going to hold it against me?” She let him. It would take some of the pressure off of his shoulder—something that Nicholas tended to need desperately when he had pushed too hard.

“To be fair, you could leave without me,” she pointed out.

He looked surprised. “Do you know, I didn’t even think about it?” He looked down at her. “I’d rather have you with me,” he informed her. “I could use the distraction tonight.”

How could she turn him down, especially with that plaintive look in his eyes? Danni nodded, her mouth dry. “Your place or mine?” she asked calmly.

“Kat should be here for awhile—we can go back to your place for a change,” he offered.

She was about to agree with him—had even opened her mouth to do it—when a single bellow silenced them.

“Danielle! Nicholas!” Mme Renault’s voice cut through the chatter backstage as if she had pushed an unseen mute button.

They jumped to attention, Nick removing his arm from her shoulder as if they had been caught doing something illicit.

“Androv wants to see you as soon as you are changed.” Her voice was ominous.

They exchanged a long look. In the elation of knowing that they had managed to pull it off, they had both forgotten about the inevitable confrontation.

“You’re going to get it,” someone whispered. Danni turned her head just in time to look into Allie’s vindictive eyes.

She and Nicholas exchanged a glance, immediately of one accord. They might be about to get chewed up one side and down the other, but they were going to do it with grace. They weren’t going to slink in there like a couple of children.

It wasn’t easy to follow Mme Renault with their shoulders back, their faces empty of all emotion. Both of them really wanted to shake with the fear; but they’d long since learned to repress that particular emotion. They had to be able to act as well as dance, and that meant not showing fear when it struck.

Androv was waiting in his office, pacing behind his desk. He gestured them around to the front; the two of them obeyed, standing shoulder to shoulder as though a united stance might somehow save them.

“Which of you decided to mess with my choreography?” he bellowed.

Nicholas winced, but stepped forward immediately. “It’s my fault, sir,” he said firmly, his voice ringing in the sudden silence. “I’ve been having some trouble with my shoulder, and Allie grabbed me to practice this morning—she pushed me past what I could deal with.”

“But the changes were mine,” Danni said quickly, as soon as he stopped to take a breath. She had made her decisions for herself; she wasn’t going to let him take all of the blame.

“I pushed her to it,” Nicholas protested. “I told her I wasn’t going to be able to dance—“

“And I decided I didn’t want to do it without him.” Danni’s expression was obstinate. “I’m sorry if it was a problem, sir; but they teach us in partners’ class that we’re supposed to take care of each other out there. If one of us gets hurt….”

“If one of you gets hurt, you are to take care of each other.” Androv turned, and for the first time, Danni realized that there was a hint of a smile on his face. “That was very quick thinking, Miss Wilkerson. I’m suitably impressed.”

Her jaw dropped.

“Not only did it flow so seamlessly that you might as well have practiced it that way, but it was close enough to the original choreography that there wasn’t even a chance that you would set someone else off—or worse, miss a cue in the music. And you’re telling me that you came up with this on the fly?”

“At intermission, sir.” Nicholas found his voice first.

“Your partner told you at intermission that he wasn’t feeling up to dancing, and in that twenty minutes, you managed to completely re-choreograph your entire dance.” Androv shook his head. “And this from the girl who hadn’t even seen the steps until two weeks ago.”

“I—“ Danni couldn’t think of anything to say.

“I am suitably impressed, Miss Wilkerson,” he repeated, smiling faintly at her evident confusion. “In fact, I would like for you to report to me during your study hours on Fridays for a choreography class.”

“I—“ Her voice was barely working.

“That would be…nine fifteen, would it not?” he suggested. “And twelve thirty….”

He’d checked her schedule. He knew when she was free. Androv knew when she was free.

“Let’s do nine fifteen the first week after break,” Androv continued. “We’ll see about the other later. I wouldn’t mind some help with the spring ballet.”

Danni nodded in all the appropriate places, but she wasn’t sure she really heard him. Every word he said was just increasing her excitement. Androv was the best choreographer in the school—maybe one of the best in the world. Companies came from everywhere to ask him to write their ballets—and he wanted to work with her.

Nicholas slid his arm around her shoulders again, grinning. “Tell the nice man you’ll see him in a couple of weeks,” he suggested quietly.

Danni managed to get the words out, though her voice was very soft. She’d thought that dancing with the man was amazing. Having the opportunity to work with him….

It was beyond anything she would have imagined for herself.

You always know, don’t you, Lord? She prayed silently as Nicholas escorted her back to the party. You always know what I most need…and exactly when I most need it.

There was no way she could have been more overjoyed—until she rounded the corner and ran smack into her family.

“Mom! Dad!” Danni was aware that she had shouted the words. She stepped out from under Nicholas’s arm and bounded for them, hugging first one, then the other, in rapid succession.

“Hey, baby!” Her mother returned her hug with interest. Her father was more stilted, but he warmed quickly under the force of her evident joy.

“We got the news at the last minute,” her mother told her excitedly. “Your father didn’t think he was going to be able to get off, but then he did—we decided to surprise you.”

“It’s so good to see you!” Danni went back for another hug. Had it really only been a month and a half since she’d left home? It seemed like so much longer. “And you saw me dance? Really?”

“Really.” Her father smiled. “The Sugar Plum Fairy, Danni-girl—I’m proud of you. You looked amazing out there.” He looked back. “And this is Prince Charming, huh?”

“Daddy!” Danni still had her heavy stage makeup on—good. It would conceal her blush admirably. “Prince Charming is for fairy tales! This is The Nutcracker!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. My mistake.” But her father’s warm brown eyes twinkled as he looked over at Nick.

Nick grinned back. “Danni?” he prompted.

“Oh—sorry.” She bounded back to his side—displaying considerably more energy than he felt, after the amount of time they’d spent on stage that night. “Nick, my mom, Sandra; my little sister, Lizzie; and my dad, Jeffrey. Guys—this is my partner, Nicholas.”

“It’s nice to meet you all.” Nicholas didn’t extend his right hand, Danni noticed, concerned. With his usually impeccable manners, that was a warning sign.

“Nick?” she murmured, under the cover of conversation.

He met her gaze and let his lips curl into a faint smile. “You didn’t write them all out, Danni,” he pointed out softly. “But I’ve got time for dinner.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed.

“I’m sure.” He took her hand, squeezed it. “We have to eat, right?” And with all of the dancers either in the production or in the audience, none of the house mothers would have put dinner on the table.

“Let me know, okay?”

Neither of her parents—used to these quiet exchanges, since she and Michael had had them all the time—seemed to notice anything. Lizzie, on the other hand, stared down at their linked hands, a strange expression on her face.

“Michael was really upset that he couldn’t come,” she informed them both. “He was desperate to see you, Danni.”

Nicholas’s grip on her hand tightened. “It’s a shame he didn’t,” he said lightly. “I’d really like to meet him—congratulate him on training her right.”

Danni laughed. If she hadn’t been on his right, she probably would have shoved into him; but she had the feeling that his shoulder was aching enough already, and she didn’t want to hurt him. “Oh, please. After your last partner, you would’ve taken anyone,” she informed him.

“Didn’t your last partner get hurt?” Lizzie demanded.

Nicholas shrugged. “I wasn’t trying to get rid of her,” he joked, “but I’ve got to say, the new model is a serious improvement.”

Danni relaxed. It looked like Nick wasn’t going to take Lizzie too seriously—good. It would be less painful for all of them in the long run.

“So, what about your family?” Danni’s mother asked as they moved toward the reception area. “Are they here?”

“My mom will be,” Nicholas agreed. There was an odd tension in his face as he said it. Danni wasn’t surprised. She knew men often had issues with their sons being dancers, particularly ballet dancers. Michael’s dad had had his fair share of issues with it; he’d just gotten over them over time. “I’m hoping she’ll be able to find me.” He grimaced. “Though in this crowd, I suppose I probably ought to go hunting.”

“Want me to come with?” Danni offered. It was crowded backstage; the search would go easier with two—not to mention the fact that Nick would be a lot better off with her there to keep people off of his right side.

“Do you mind?” Nick’s naked gratitude surprised her. “It’s just—well—thanks, Danni.”

She tossed a smile back at her family. “Grab six seats in the dining room,” she told them. “We’ll meet you there.”

“You don’t have your own special table?” her father demanded. “Stars of the show and everything?”

“Nope.” Nick grinned. “We have a special bedtime, though, with another performance tomorrow night.” He was preparing the way for them to leave early, Danni noticed—and doing it effortlessly.

He turned apologetic as soon as they were away, however. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “They’re probably just in for the one night—you’ll want to spend time with them. I—“

“Need someone to make sure you ice that shoulder before you fall into bed,” Danni cut in before he could say anything. “And in the meantime, why don’t you take a couple of Advil? It should at least help with the swelling.”

He grimaced. “I finished my bottle off this morning,” he admitted.

She stared at him. “You’ve been hitting it hard,” she realized.

“I’m hurting, Danni.” Nick’s voice was low. “Honestly, I don’t want to do this tonight. I want to go home, curl up on that stack of pillows, and ice my shoulder until it stops screaming at me—and I can’t do that until they’re out of here, because there isn’t a single person in this room who will understand it if I cut out early.”

She squeezed his hand firmly. “We’ll leave early,” she promised. “Make whatever excuse you need to.”

He stopped abruptly and groaned. “I’m not going to have to make an excuse,” he said grimly.

Danni turned to stare at him, concerned. Was his shoulder really bothering him that much? But no—the expression on his face was from more than physical pain. “What’s the matter?” she asked cautiously.

Nick grimaced, gesturing with his head without moving any part of his body. “Well…remember how I told you that my mom would probably be here tonight?”

“Yes….”

“And I probably implied in the process—though I didn’t actually come out and say it—that my dad wouldn’t be joining her.”

She nodded.

“Well…that’s my mom.” He shifted so that she could follow his gaze. “And the man beside her…is my dad.”