after the applause

There is a whirlwind in her little eyes as she looks past me.  I can't tell if she is looking forlornly at the piano for the last time on the way out the door to gym or at her father who is on the phone closing the deal: the piano is finally sold.  The night I listed it For Sale she cried and begged us not to. I explained the reasons; 

we don't use it, 

we need the room, 

we need the money for you....

The money will cover (hopefully) the cost of the choreographer for her floor routine. The sale is timely, as this week the choreographers have taken the girls one by one to learn their new routines.  Each girls gets her own, her own music, her own moves, her own price tag.  It looks like Beach will be one of the last to get.  She has her music, her choreographer is lined up, and her price tag set firm: one dream of being a gymnast and a pianist.

She knows what she is doing when from under her seatbelt and over her glasses  she asks, "So does everyone have to sale a piano to buy a choreographer?"

And I know what I am doing when I answer, "No, not everyone is lucky enough to have a piano to sale.  Or lucky enough to have gymnastics in the first place.  Besides you are not actually buying Rick- you don't get to keep him.  Anyway we can't afford to feed him and we don't have anywhere to put him." Rick is her choreographer and saying this makes her laugh.~