My hands glided over the brick wall in our new rehearsal space, which Dear d**k had rented for us. I liked this place. No! I loved the space. The refurbished warehouse had survived the ongoing reconstruction of Seaport. The red bricks vibrated a homely warmth, the four-foot windows streamed bright light into the barn-size hall, and the real wood parquet warmed my heart.
Dick leaned against the wall-hugging mirror that we had installed so that I could learn to practice without looking directly at my hands. The old man’s eyes drank in all our actions. I blocked him out of my consciousness while I followed each step of our carefully choreographed show.
“Well done, you two.” I swelled with pride after hearing d**k’s words. I had practiced every single day before school, after school, after d
