Partners In Crime (I)

Shiny gym floors became the backdrop of scattered teenagers distracted from the goal of learning choreographed steps that one Saturday afternoon. Teachers had separated from the students, the teaching-learning process now scarce. Ren and I had been dancing, drilling our routine, perfecting the rough patches. During a pause of focused work, Ren turns to me and between uneven breaths he comments, "I haven't seen Jane in a while. Do you know where she is?"
His face bore the features of endearing worry. Worst case scenarios flashed through my mind like a nightmare. The first idea of her hiding place took me straight to the mother's room on the east side.
Ren was waiting when I came out empty handed. "Not in there?"
I shook my head.
From east to west, we searched every room, peering into dark rooms and checking behind furniture. Ren's face was quiet and serious, a calm facade during the storm. On our way off the pitch black stage, he tripped down the few carpeted stairs to break my concentration with a smile. I helped him up, laughing without restraint. Then again in silence, we shared a grin against dark surroundings.
We found her on the west side, huddled on the floor next to Kerrie. Once we had gotten close, we heard her quiet sobbing through the door. Harsh afternoon light came through the multiple windows in the room, casting rectangles of golden warmth across the floor. Thank goodness she wasn't alone. Ren and I went to her, shifting her head into my lap, Ren draped his arm over her side to hold her hand, and Kerri sat cross legged on my right. As she cried, my heart ached and my eyes stung. I loved her so much. To my left, I saw a mirrored look of pained anguish, because of this girl laid across our laps. Silence was gratefully interrupted by Kerrie's cheerful topic of rings and gay uncles. Conversation continued mainly between her and Jane, occasionally I would attribute a phrase more than the smile that cut across my sorrow. Ren's face stayed stoically solemn, almost removed, but I knew his thoughts stayed within that room.
In hopes of lifting her spirits, we took her to the neighboring duck pond. Chasing the ducks was good for her smile and the fresh air dried her tears.
Back in the gym, a family tree was crafted, from me to grandchild. Each branch bore scandal, dramatics, and almost always multiple marriages and illegitimate children. Jane was my daughter, divorced once, now married to Ren--"the loving husband" he claimed proudly, taking her hip--after an affair with his brother, Peter, which beget Kerrie. From that stemmed many other composed relations with playful stories to back them. In her face the unfortunate affair was temporarily forgotten and I was glad that our fake family take away that pain, if only for a moment.