The Ballroom

Concept: 07/10/14 | Final Revision: 03/20/21

This short story is dedicated to the memory of Dr. Keri D. Barber. A wonderful college professor and the very first person to help me with what would become my first short story. I am forever grateful and fortunate to have been one of her students.

* * *

Jimmy was coming home in three days. Erin could hardly believe it. After five long years separated by oceans and continents, her best friend was returning home at last. The greatly-anticipated homecoming was all she could think about that April evening and the chamomile tea that she’d been sipping for the last ten minutes had done very little to calm her excited jitters. But Erin didn’t mind. Jimmy would be back on American soil in a matter of days and soon, all would be well. The wait was nearly over.

Five years had been a long time. What had been agonizing weren’t the months apart but rather the seemingly endless waiting period in between. Without the comforting affirmation of an endpoint, waiting was easily far longer than eternity. And the past five years had been exactly that.

Quite frankly, it felt longer than a lifetime since Erin first heard about her friend’s deployment. It wasn’t the unseasonably rainy November day which she remembered so vividly but the bursting excitement with which Jimmy explained his new assignment. He’d only just completed boot camp and was now recruited into a tactical operations team that specialized in the search and rescue of children across the world. “Just like PopPop used to do back in the day,” Jimmy remarked, proud to be following in his late grandfather’s footsteps. Erin was truly happy for her best friend but she was also scared of what he would face. It had been hard then to muster up a sincere congratulations without showing any signs of worry. But she did her best to recover from the surprise of Jimmy’s news and he didn’t appear to notice her masked concern.

More quickly than she would have liked, Jimmy and his fellow recruits were airplaned overseas. Because Jimmy’s unit was singularly tasked with sensitive situations, Erin had never known exactly where he was stationed at any given moment or many details about his assignments. She understood the reason for this obscurity, of course, but the secrecy didn’t make the separation any easier or the time apart any shorter. Had it really been only five years ago? Surly, it was much longer than that. How inconstant time can feel, mused Erin as she gazed absentmindedly out onto her garden. A day can drag on forever. A year can sometimes be as long as a century. But it’s the not knowing that can lengthen time exponentially, and she was no stranger to this unwelcomed phenomena.

With all the advancements of modern communication, the practice of writing letters proved, rather ironically, to be a great consolation. From the beginning of Jimmy’s deployment, what began as a fun exchange reminiscent of their childhood pastime quickly proved to be an invaluable means for two friends to remain intimately connected. It was an old fashioned method of communication to be sure, but one which Erin and Jimmy liked the best. Emails were efficient but letters were tangible. Electronic messages with generic fonts could never replace the smell and feel of paper or the satisfaction that comes from reading the familiar curves of the author’s handwriting. Texting can also suffice in a pinch, but it’s nothing compared to the private gratification of reading a well-thought out message that’s bursting with personality. For Erin and Jimmy, letters were like having a small piece of their friend with them and, in most cases, that was enough to get them through their time apart.

There were however, a handful of occasions during the deployment where handwritten messages were simply not enough. It was in these times that Erin ached for the science-fictional ability to step right through the creased pages and be instantly transported to wherever her friend was in the world. But there was one in particular which gave her chills. Although it had been mailed nearly two years ago, the harrowing words in that heartbreaking letter lingered in her mind as a haunted memory. Erin would never forget the day the message arrived: it was a vibrant autumn afternoon accented with a cloudless blue sky. Dozens of ruby, orange, and amber-colored leaves floated quietly to the ground with the aid of a gentle, chilly breeze. Erin was nestled contently on her bed and eagerly opened Jimmy’s letter, having no idea of the devastating words that she was about to read:

"Dear Erin,

I lost my men. Dean, Michael, Justin, Lane – they’re all gone. It happened so fast: the explosion, the firefight - the death that followed. We were ambushed. I thought I was losing my mind. No matter what I did, it didn’t stop. And now they’re gone - my team and two dozen children. All that time planning and nothing to show for it.

What kind of monsters attack children? It hadn’t even been an hour after we rescued them that everything fell apart. Those mercenaries came out of nowhere, without warning or conscience. And I couldn’t stop them. It wasn’t supposed to go like that. All of us were coming home. No matter what, my boys would be coming home with me. The kids were going back to their families. But I’m here and they’re gone.

I knew when I enlisted that there’d be tough days, and there have been. But this…this is the hardest I’ve ever known. I’d willingly give my life to protect my country, my team, and those who can’t defend themselves. You know that. What good am I if I can’t protect the ones I swore to keep safe?

I feel like I’m trapped in a loop. My ears are still ringing. I still smell the fumes. I still feel the heat from the burning debris. And I can still hear the screaming - the kind that makes your blood run cold. Whether I’m awake or asleep, I’m stuck in the ambush. I wish it would all end. I wish I hadn’t been spared. I wish you were here.”

Reading Jimmy’s unfiltered anguish as she sat helplessly on her quilted mattress was one of the most agonizing realities Erin had ever known. Her best friend was alone and hurting, and she was miles away. There was no doubt he’d blame himself and Erin hated that (though she couldn’t argue that she wouldn't have done the same). Even though he’d been spared and would recover from his physical injuries, Jimmy wouldn’t be immune to survivor’s guilt. His team had spent the better part of a year carefully analyzing and planning their mission, although what that was exactly Erin could only guess. But the horrid truth she knew now was that Lane’s boys would never see their father again and Justin would never make it to the altar to marry Kara that spring. All those innocent souls who Jimmy vowed to protect would never be reunited with their families, and he’d blame it all on himself. He was the sole remnant of a horrific day and there was nothing Erin could do to change it.

Truthfully, she was scared she’d lose her best friend. He’d lost his team and was suffering alone. Erin’s fear grew exponentially into panic with each passing hour. And even though she managed to get a brief call through to Jimmy in the days that followed, neither said much. This wasn’t a time for words.

It was a jarring experience that lingered unwelcomely with Erin as a poignant memory. Jimmy recovered physically, but he was changed. It took some months for a letter to arrive after the ambush, and while there were still hints of the ‘old’ Jimmy tucked into his words, Erin couldn’t help but feel the altered state of her friend. The next few letters that followed were unusually short, like synopses on the back of books or instructions meant to help with assembling furniture. It wasn’t a mystery to Erin as to why, and that broke her heart. But soon, Jimmy would be home, and this haunting crisis of the past would be quelled by the long conversations that were sure to come with the return of her childhood friend. And she sincerely hoped he’d be able to find some kind of healing in the familiar confines of home.

"I’m on my way home,” wrote Jimmy in his most recent letter. “I don’t know how long it will take this letter to reach you, but tomorrow I leave for home. The work my unit and I began is now in the capable hands of a new team, and can I depart with confidence knowing they’ll build upon the foundations of what we started. I know in my heart that I’m still meant to help people, and I will. But my time away from home is at an end. Looks like this is my last letter to you from across the Atlantic. I can hardly wait to see you and my family again! See you Thursday.”

Despite the hundreds of letters the two friends shared with each other over the past five years, there was no doubt in Erin’s mind that she and Jimmy would need several days to catch up. And that was perfectly fine with her. They’d been close friends since they were little, and spent nearly every day together before going off to college and then out into the world. Five years might as well have been five decades, and the seventy-two hours left to wait seemed like an eternity. Erin could think about nothing else. So, to distract herself from the excited anticipation of her friend’s return, she decided to have a little fun with another quiet evening on her own: she’d enjoy a private twilight tour of her garden which had just started to bloom.

***

The spring’s evening air was clear and warm. The last beams of sunset cast enchanting streaks of lavender and rose across the lingering clouds in the sky. Together with the sweet fragrance of lilac and lavender from the flower garden and the last chirps of robins settling in for the night, the atmosphere was nearly dream-like. It was perfect for a secret escapade to her greenhouse. Just for tonight, it would be her fairytale ballroom and she’d stroll quietly among the colorful landscape in the blue gown she’d spent years restoring. It was rather childish to indulge herself in this fantasy, Erin thought as she opened the bedroom closet. She was almost thirty, after all. The last time she’d participated in any kind of make-believe was well before the start of high school. Erin was an adult now with her own home and a comfortable career in horticulture. But she decided that there was nothing wrong with a bit of imaginative play, especially when she had the evening all to herself. Her property was surrounded by hardy arborvitaes that concealed her garden from passersby, and the magic that seemed to linger in the amber twilight was too perfect not to take advantage of, even if she was all grown up.

Erin removed the floor-length, blue gown from its stand and stepped gently into the tastefully laced garment.

“You should buy it,” Erin remembered Jimmy telling her nearly a decade ago.

“What?” she had replied, snapping out of her daydream.

“That dress. You stare at it every time we come into this thrift shop.”

“I don’t know,” Erin responded hesitantly. “It’s frayed and faded…more of a sad clump of fabric than dress at this point.”

“So, why don’t you fix it up?” Erin let out an amused laugh at the notion. She knew how to repair small holes in sweaters and pants, but that was the extent of her seamstressing knowledge. But seeing that Jimmy was serious, she explained: “Sewing up tears or making doll’s clothes is one thing. Restoring an entire gown is a completely different skill set that’s beyond me.”

“You didn’t know how to refinish old furniture, but you still managed to teach yourself how to refurbish your old, wooden bureau anyway.”

“Yes, but - ”

“Come on,” Jimmy coaxed. “This is right up your alley! You could even fix it up in time for senior prom.”

“That’s two weeks away. There’s no way I could have it ready in time.”

“Okay…well, it could at least be a creative project that’ll help distract you from the divor–.” Jimmy caught himself. The whole point of their afternoon trip was to get Erin’s mind off of her parents’ divorce. As is the case with so many divorces, the separation process that Erin and her family were now involved in was messy and riddled with anxiety, and Jimmy felt horribly for bringing that painful reality back into focus.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Erin said softly. “It’s just a word – a word that describes half the people in the world. It’s a simple word, really...but it represents so much pain. My life’s falling apart and if it ever ends, I’ll be left branded with that small, stupid word forever.”

Tears had welled in her eyes and she fought to keep them from cascading down her cheeks. Jimmy instinctively brought Erin in close for a consoling embrace, desperately wishing he could do more to comfort his best friend. But sometimes, reflected Erin as she carefully guided the gown’s zipper into place, a hug was all that was needed. Jimmy had been her rock during that awful time and she was glad he’d convinced her to mend the dress rather than abandon it in that quaint thrift shop years ago. It had taken her almost a decade of slow, meticulous needlework to fully restore the gown, but the painstaking endeavor had been worthwhile. Now it was finally time to enjoy her creation. Erin let down her long, chestnut-brown hair and slipped on a modest pair of comfortable white flats. Content with the small equestrian necklace she’d worn since she was thirteen, Erin headed downstairs and out into the warm evening air.

Stars were already emerging faintly across the waning sunset sky as she descended moss-covered stone steps through her flower forest towards the greenhouse. It was a spacious, rectangular structure built almost entirely out of glass windows. To anyone else, it was just an ordinary greenhouse; but to Erin, it was vastly more. For a nostalgic history was embedded in this greenhouse: it had been a secret fortress where she and Jimmy shared countless adventures in fantastical worlds as imaginative children. Even though it had been overrun with twisting vines and tall vegetation, to Erin, it had always looked like a ballroom. The property on which the greenhouse stood had been abandoned for as long as she could remember and just like the once tattered gown, she had always dreamed about restoring this special place to its former glory…if not into something far grander. And when it was finally hers, the first person she told was Jimmy.

“I bought our hidden fortress. I couldn’t stay at home now that mom’s gone. I thought I could and I really did try my best to hold onto the memories we all made in that house. But melancholy lingered in every room and I just couldn’t bear it, especially since I’m the only one here now. Lauren got her own place up at college and Connor moved back with dad. Truthfully, I’m glad they were able to leave. Mom’s death was hard on all of us and I’ll miss having them around. But I think that starting their lives away from all the reminders of her will help them both heal. So, I decided to sell the house and use my portion of the money to build my own home. I’ll be starting in the spring. Anyway, hope you enjoy the buttercream icing and pretzels in this package. It’s not much but it’s a little piece of home. As always, stay safe wherever you are in the world. Merry Christmas, Jimmy.”

Erin had written that holiday card nearly fourteen months ago, and in just a few days, she would finally be able to share her proud accomplishment with Jimmy.

***

Exterior lanterns of the greenhouse cast an ethereal glow on the climbing wisteria that framed the building, making it appear all the more like an enchanted hall from the fairy tales of old. Inside there were young tropical fruit trees outlining the perimeter of the stone floor and a multitude of various flowering plants tucked neatly in between. Newly sprouted vegetable seedlings sat comfortably in watered trays on Erin’s corner work table. The moisture in the air pulled together welcomed smells of gardening soil, citrus, herbs, and aromatic flowers. Against the back wall were an array of trellises that supported climbing vines like sweet pea, clematis, morning glory, and moonflower. Erin switched on the tear-shaped bulbs hanging in rows above then carefully lighted her homemade candles which were scattered among the plants. It was already an inviting place in the daytime; but with the amber haze from the lights overhead, the warm glow from the flicking candles, and the accent of moonlight beginning to pour in through the windows, the greenhouse had transformed into a spellbinding ballroom. It was similar to when Christmas lights are illuminated at the beginning of the greatly anticipated holiday season. But the ballroom was so much more alive. If only Jimmy could see this right now, Erin thought wistfully.

She activated the small speaker that she’d left on the workbench earlier in the day, and soon a gentle melody filled the interior. With a pleasing ambiance, and knowing no one was around, Erin began to dance. Gracefully, she floated around the room, letting her beautiful gown swirl gently about her with each passing step. As Erin continued, she couldn’t help but smile quietly at her private serenity.

Little did she know he was watching, blissfully amazed at her secret delight.

***

Jimmy Clarke had intentionally arrived home early in order to surprise his parents. But finding the family house vacant, he ventured to Erin’s new home instead. It had been quite a while since he last sauntered down the familiar road that led to the overgrown hideout. He and Erin had embarked along the winding trail thousands of times as children, and both of them could easily navigate the path in their sleep. Erin had described her recent renovation endeavor in dozens of letters and he could hardly wait to see the completed project.

Turning the corner by the massive oak with the crooked trunk, Jimmy halted abruptly, astonished at the sight that greeted him. In place of a rickety old house with branches and ferns poking out through the broken windows, there stood a modest home with a comely porch that was guarded elegantly by blue and purple irises. The grass was neatly trimmed and newly planted magnolia trees were in blossom. A wooden bird feeder sat high on a sturdy metal pole in front of a cement path which connected the porch and driveway. The ground below the feeder was blanketed with hundreds of empty sunflower seed casings that had been discarded haphazardly by hungry birds during the day. Could this really be the same place where he and Erin spent so many of their childhood days? Jimmy could scarcely believe his eyes.

“Just a small fixer-upper project,” Jimmy laughed to himself, recalling Erin’s modest words in her letter updating him on her progress. “A little more than a year since you started and you’ve managed to transform this place into an incredible, livable home. You’ve really outdone yourself this time, Erin.”

Jimmy followed the gravel path to the porch, but even though the outside house lights shone brightly, she didn’t answer the door when he knocked. Her silver Chevy was parked in the driveway, so where was Erin? Coming back down the porch steps, Jimmy caught sight of a faint glimmer of yellow light peeking over the hedges which concealed the backyard. Stepping through the wooden gate, he began his investigation, mindful not to make any noise in order to keep his arrival a surprise.

Even in the dim evening light the artistically arranged landscape was even more stunning than the front yard. But that’s not what made Jimmy stop dead in his tracks. It was the greenhouse, the very place in which he’d spent countless playing days now completely transformed into a magnificent enclosure only she could create. And there she was: Erin, the person he’d waited so long to see, all grown up. Through the large glass windows, he watched as the friend with whom he shared many treasured secrets and spectacular adventures danced happily to her heart’s content. There was a quiet tranquility and delight which resonated within her too. Erin was the same person he’d known as a boy but somehow beautifully different all the same.

Jimmy had never seen her like this - his friend so at ease and free. His affectionate gaze was interrupted by the faint sound of a familiar melody – it was Clair de Lune, Erin’s favorite. Timing his step carefully, Jimmy softly entered the ballroom to join Erin in her waltz. Startled, Erin’s alarm instantly melted into ecstatic joy. A sudden wave of a million emotions rushed through Erin as she stared up into the beaming face she hadn’t seen in person for five years. And without missing a beat, they continued their quiet dance across the ballroom floor, which was now like the purest glass, glimmering in the cool moonlight.

They didn’t stop when the music concluded. Neither uttered a sound as they swirled about the room. Five years apart seemed like a lifetime of separation, and there would be plenty of time to catch up. This tender moment they now shared was far too precious to be disturbed with lost words. Serene sounds of chirping crickets and peeping callers were now an ambient orchestra that accompanied the two friends as they glided gracefully around the glowing room. Time seemed to stand still, and neither Erin nor Jimmy had any desire to cease their rhythmic steps.

But excitement eventually got the better of Erin and she could wait no longer. With happy tears welling in her brown eyes, she threw her arms tightly around Jimmy for a long-overdue hug. He wrapped his arms around her waist and spun her around, and they held each other closely. In that embrace, all the anxiety, sorrow, and adversity each had endured on their own over the last five years melted effortlessly away into distant memory.

“You said you’d be here on Thursday,” said Erin, breaking the silence. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“Me neither,” he replied. “I wanted to surprise you and my folks, but they must’ve gone out because no one’s home. So I came to see you.”

“Looks like it’s just you and me then.”

“That’s fine with me,” Erin said, beaming.

And it was.

They ventured out into the garden together under a starry sky towards a weathered stone bench by the lily pond. Golden rays from the ballroom radiated placidly over the flowering landscape, the way candles enchant a small room. A gentle breeze rustled through the cascading branches of the weeping willow sending loose leaves trickling onto the water.

“This place is incredible, Erin. The greenhouse alone is impressive, but the fact that you managed to create a haven out of an overgrown, swampy area is beyond amazing.”

“Thanks, Jimmy.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen some of these plants. Where’d you find them?”

“They were my mom’s. Most of them are hers, actually. I transplanted them all from her house so that I’ll always have part of her here with me.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when she passed, Erin,” Jimmy said after a quiet moment.

“You would have if you could,” she reassured him. I’m not saying that it wouldn’t have been nice to have you here to lean on, but the children you were protecting needed you more. The message you left me was enough to get me through the worst of it.”

“Still, I wish I could’ve been there,” answered Jimmy, sincerely.

“I know. But you’re here now.”

They talked long into the night. The last five years had not been uneventful, and both Erin and Jimmy had endured their own challenges. But the one thing that remained unchanged during their time apart was their unwavering friendship. Erin had lost her mother to cancer and Jimmy had seen too many friends fall during his perilous tours abroad. But the letters which they wrote to each other kept them tethered to hope. These seemingly insignificant correspondences became an anchor, a tangible link to a shared, sentimental past.

“This is so strange,” said Erin, almost whispering.

“What is?”

“This,” replied Erin, gesturing to nowhere in particular. “The two of us back here together after so long…”

“…practically picking up right where we left off,” finished Jimmy.

“And in here of all places,” added Erin.

They were now back inside the warmer confines of the greenhouse. The candles had long been extinguished, and only the hanging lights and moonlight remained. Erin led Jimmy towards the back wall by the trellises and gently pulled aside a strand of pale pink and lavender-colored sweet peas which concealed special markings in the old stone wall.

“Our initials,” Jimmy observed fondly as memories came flooding back.

“Feels like a lifetime ago that we were kids playing here,” Erin remarked as she affectionately traced her fingers over the initials they’d carved when they were twelve. Jimmy followed suit, stopping when his hand met hers.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” said Erin softly. “I can’t imagine the horrors you saw over there, and it breaks my heart knowing you lived it. But what you and your team were able to accomplish, the children you saved - you helped make the world a little safer, and I am so very proud of you.”

Her candor was humbling and he loved her for it. There had indeed been truly awful events during the five years of his deployment. But there were good ones too, and those small victories should never be forgotten.

“I don’t regret my time away,” Jimmy answered thoughtfully. “It was a calling and a task I know I was meant for. A part of me will always be with my boys and I’ll never stop missing them. But it was time for me to come home. The years seeing the absolute horrors of humanity were starting to take a toll; like I was being pulled into a dark void that would have taken me completely if I stayed.”

“I know,” whispered Erin.

The subtle changes in her childhood friend, evident both in his posture and behind his eyes, had begun to shift. She could see, ever so slightly, the rejuvenating effects home’s healing air was having on Jimmy. He was back, and the sorrow in his tanned face was mellowing. Although the painful memories from his service years would never fully fade, there was hope that the melancholic ones could be softened, if only a little, with time.

“I need to be among good people again. I’m going to continue what I know I was meant to do here, state side, near my family, and close to you.” Jimmy took both of Erin’s hands into his and continued:

“We’ve been friends for as long as I can remember, but I felt that I’ve become closer to you through our letters. I don’t know how that’s possible, but I don’t want to be apart from you again, Erin Atwel.”

She could see the earnestness in his caring green eyes, and it warmed her heart. She too had seen their friendship mature over the last five years and wanted nothing more fervently than to have him in her life once again.

“So you’re going to be sticking around then,” Erin said with a spark of joy in her eye.

“Yes,” replied Jimmy, “if you’ll have me.”

“Always.”

Jimmy drew Erin in close and kissed her. They knew what they had together was rare, and this precious gift was not lost on either of them. Erin and Jimmy had forged a trust and regard beyond what words can describe, and amid the chaos of life, they managed to hold onto the constancy that was their friendship. They were finally reunited after five long years apart and knew that they belonged permanently in each other’s life.

For the first time in Erin’s life she was truly happy. For the first time in a long while, she felt safe, secure, and at peace. In that moment Erin began to trust happiness again and allow it to tenderly replace the sorrow in her soul which had lingered since her mother’s passing. And it was in that embrace that she decided she would give hope and happiness another chance, knowing her best friend would be by her side for the rest of her life.

* * *