Chapter 2

Gerard took Vivienne's hand as if the room had been waiting for it. She gave him one small nod, and the violin carried them into the opening turn.

I kept my feet flat against the floor. The cold climbed through my stockings while my old shoes sat beneath the chair, left beside right, their buckles still open.

They moved cleanly past the first table. Gerard watched Vivienne's shoulders, careful with every step, and she matched the pressure of his palm without looking down. Around them, guests began breathing again.

Colette lowered herself into the chair beside mine. Her wedding skirt spread over my ankle, hiding my bare feet from the room.

"Is it only this dance?" I asked.

She followed my gaze toward her father. Gerard had already guided Vivienne through the turn Colette used to rush when she was thirteen.

"It's the long arrangement, Mama."

"I know which arrangement it is."

Colette rubbed one thumb across the beading on her skirt. She had done that as a child whenever she wanted time before answering.

"Tonight," she said. "I meant tonight."

The answer left a space larger than the dance floor. I bent and reached beneath my chair, but Gerard saw the movement as he passed the edge of the platform.

He missed half a beat. Vivienne corrected without pulling him, her hand shifting lightly against his shoulder. Nobody else seemed to notice.

Gerard released her at the end of the phrase and crossed to me before the applause had settled. His face held no triumph. Sweat shone above his collar, though the room was cool.

"Leave them there, Lise."

My fingers closed around the left shoe. The worn sole fitted my palm, thin at the outer edge from twenty-one years of standing in the same demonstration position.

"You thought I'd fall."

He glanced toward Colette, then crouched until his body blocked my feet from the tables. His voice stayed low.

"I thought you'd go down in front of everyone."

There was no disgust in his face. That would have been easier. He looked frightened in the old, practical way he had looked when I missed the bottom stair last winter and pretended the banister had slipped.

I had expected him to defend Vivienne. Instead, his eyes remained fixed on my right knee beneath the folds of Colette's skirt.

"So you gave her my place."

His jaw tightened. Behind him, Vivienne waited near the brass marker with both arms lowered. She did not call him back or claim the room.

"I couldn't watch you collapse at our daughter's wedding."

Colette turned her face away. Her hand stayed over mine, but she did not deny him.

I set the left shoe on my lap and reached for the right. Gerard caught it first. For one second we each held an end, my fingers around the satin heel and his around the worn toe.

The musicians began the next passage softly, giving us time we had not asked for. Gerard pulled once. I let go.

He slid both shoes away from the platform, past the hem of my dress, until they disappeared beneath my chair.