He turned around so that he was in the lady’s position and I was in the man’s. I took him into dance position and he arched back, as perfectly as any woman. I looked at him in the mirror and his position was flawless. It should have looked ridiculous, but on Julian, it didn’t.

“I don’t know any steps,” I said.

“Steps are a crutch,” he said, without breaking his line. “Learn to move. That’s what takes years of training. Lead me, Charlie.”

I took a step closer to him so that our bodies were touching as before. I stepped forward with my left leg and he didn’t budge. Julian broke position and looked down at me.

“You were moving with your leg. You need to propel yourself with your center. When our centers connect, then we have dance. Breathe into your middle.” He slid his hand in between our bodies and laid it on my stomach. How strange to be touched so intimately by a man I hardly knew. Pa would be shocked—or would he? He’d watched Ma perform too. Maybe he’d understand more of my life than I thought he would, if I only gave him the chance.

I clenched my teeth and stood still. This seemed impossible. Julian settled himself into lady’s part again. I forced my body to relax. I thought about how, in tai chi, I told the students we had to move from our centers, keeping our minds and bodies in balance by creating a healthy circulation of qi, the vital life force, within us. I closed my eyes and allowed my body to go forward. I didn’t feel any resistance at all.

In surprise, I opened my eyes and Julian was directly in front of me. He’d flowed with me. I did it again, simply propelling us forward but with no awareness of my feet or legs, just thinking about my center connected to his, gliding forward. He moved as if he were a part of me, weightless and effortless. I took a step backward and he stayed with me. I went to the side, he followed. It was like he was an attachment. I laughed with joy.

Julian deliberately turned his head to wink at me. Then he arched backward again. We stepped forward and I decided to try some of the pivot turns he’d just done with me. We spun around and around. I stopped and we broke apart.

He had a broad smile on his face. “You understand. Do you know what I like about you? Not your talent, because although you are gifted, so are we all. Because you have the desire that makes the difference between success and failure. Those who succeed are the ones who are willing to follow their talent into all of the unknown places it will take them.”

—

It was the monthly studio party and I was wearing a dark red dress Adrienne had given me. It fit me closely, with a soft skirt that swung when I moved. Like all of the other dancers, I was wearing a Santa hat. I was grateful the theme this time was simply Christmas, instead of cowgirl or Grecian goddess.

The studio was dimly lit, with platters of cheese, crackers and fruit laid out on the tables. Bottles of wine stood open. We all knew better than to drink. It looked like a party, but it wasn’t for us since we were working. The students started to arrive. First came the regulars like Keith, but I also recognized two female students who had been in my beginners’ class. They waved at me as soon as they entered. Close behind them came Evelyn, her fiancé Trevor and Ryan, dressed in a crisp white shirt and tan pants.

“Mr. Sexy can come to Mama,” Mateo whispered in my ear, keeping his eyes on Ryan.

“Is Mama me or you?” I asked.

He looked at me in some surprise. “I’m Mama, of course.” Then he waltzed off.

Like the other teachers, I went to greet the students I knew. While Evelyn and Trevor were chatting with Nina, Ryan approached me, his shoulders backlit by the spotlights.

“So you do exist after all,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Evelyn’s really set on my doing the father-daughter dance with her at her wedding but I wouldn’t come back unless you were my teacher. They told us you weren’t available then.” He looked sheepish. “Guess I’m not that brave.”

I couldn’t help smiling. “It’s intimidating to learn how to dance, but every teacher here is very nice.”

“That’s what they all say.”

I laughed. “So how come you’re here tonight?”

“It’s a part of that introductory package, along with the beginners’ lesson.”

The lights flickered, signaling that the dancing demonstration was about to begin, and we all gathered around Simone and Mateo. Much as I disliked Simone, she was beautiful on the floor. They went into a series of bolero moves that ended with her arched backward in a dip, to applause.

When the general dancing started, I found it wasn’t as hard to ask the men to dance as I’d thought, since they seemed pleased to be approached. This wasn’t personal; it was simply my job. Many of them were beginners and they were excited if we could move around the floor without crashing into someone. I left the more advanced students to the others. Keith and Simone swirled around to a complex Viennese waltz, and I found myself enjoying dancing with the students until one student said to me, mid-foxtrot, “Have you seen the new Gauguin exhibit at the MoMA?”

I stumbled. It was like he was speaking another language. “No.”

“It’s fantastic. I love all of the postimpressionist painters, don’t you?”

“Shall we try a box step with turn?” I knew he wouldn’t be able to do it, and instead of all his art talk, he started apologizing for not doing the step properly.

Then Ryan was standing in front of me with his hand extended. When the swing music started, he began to move right in time to the music.

“I see you’re not wearing your boots tonight,” I said.

“Having enough trouble not getting tied into a pretzel as it is.”

I grinned. “Do you remember the underarm turn?”

In response, he led me right into it. I sang a bit under my breath as I did a triple step underneath his arm. He even remembered the variation I’d taught as a challenge, where the man scooted underneath the arm as the lady was turning back. His steps were still too big and he wound up so far away from me that we were only touching by our fingertips.

“I’m impressed,” I said as he took me back into dance position. “Are you sure you’re only a gardener? No secret ballet lessons as a boy?”

He barked out a laugh. “Definitely not. But I used to box competitively.”

I thought about my tai chi background. “That would help explain it.”

“And I might have taken some yoga lessons.” At my surprised look, he continued, “Lots of boxers do, although we don’t tend to advertise it. Not manly, you know. But yoga helps us avoid injuries by building up flexibility and stamina.”

I noticed he still considered himself a boxer. “You don’t box anymore?”

He started doing a series of basic steps, probably so he could manage to talk to me at the same time. “I left the competition scene years ago. But I still coach kids every weekend. Keeps them off the streets, gives them a place to put all that aggression.”

“Why did you stop?”

He was quiet for a moment. “My dad was a cop and got shot in the line of duty. Didn’t have time for a lot of things after that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I thought about Ma. “My mother died when I was fourteen. Things were never the same afterward.”

The music faded away. Ryan held on to my hand. “So, are you teaching students now?”

“I’m still being trained.” Although I really liked him, I had to be honest. “You might want someone more experienced.”

“No, you’ll do. You’ll be saving my girlfriend’s toes too.”

Of course he had a girlfriend. I wasn’t disappointed, why should I be? I swallowed. “You should bring her with you to the lessons.”

“She’s studying in California, but she’ll be back for the wedding.”

“All right, then. I’ll get you ready for her.”

—

Zan was sprawled on Mo Li’s bare floor, while I had my legs curled up on her bed. Mo Li was back for Christmas vacation. She always wanted Zan and me to e-mail her when she was away, but neither of us had easy access to a computer. Whenever she came home, Zan and I rushed to see her and catch up on all that we had missed. Her parents weren’t home again, since they were usually working on Saturday evenings.