A MOTHER’S DAY SPECIAL TO DANCE AGAIN

PEARL was her birthstone, yet she loved red.
Alex smiled, pleased as he took out the gift bag from between his clothes in the wardrobe. Today was mother’s day and he had bought a special gift for his mother two days ago.
It was something he knew she would love, something that would have been beyond him, hadn’t he won the logo competition by the Ministry of Culture, Youth and Sport.
He had spent long hours on the design and won something for the first time in his life, a win that was for her. But she did not take the money, telling him he had earned it, for his time and dedication in his artwork.

Photo courtesy of Katie Rodgers

He had hugged her for being such an understanding mother and for everything else. The gift, though beautiful, was nothing compared to her worth, for as a young mother who had gone through so many struggles in her life, but stood strong and dedicated to her three children, she deserved all of the gifts and flowers in the world.
Alex was only 11, yet he understood as her oldest child, the struggles in her life since his father left. How many nights from seven years old hadn’t he heard her crying softly, but in the morning there was always a smile for her children, a smile to tell them, everything would be fine.
Alex opened his bedroom door quietly and went to the kitchen to start breakfast, for today was her special day; a day she could get a little extra sleep because she was a teacher, so on working days she always had to be up early.

He prepared tuna and toast, a little burnt, as quietly as he could and laid the small table in the kitchen, hoping it could be a good start to the day for her.
She smiled when she came to the kitchen, pleased at the surprise breakfast and hugged him, “Thank you, son.”
After breakfast, to which she added scrambled eggs and bacon, he brought the gift bag, and smiling, he said, “Happy Mother’s Day.”
“Oh,” she exclaimed, surprised again, “This is so nice!”

She unwrapped the gift slowly and for a long moment, she did not say anything, then she looked at her son, tears in her eyes.
“This is so beautiful.”
It was a pair of red shoes.
“Do you like it?” he asked, a little anxiously.

“You know I do,” she said, “But why the shoes?”
“So you can dance again.”
She looked at him, a flicker of pain flashing across her face and she said quietly,
“You know I have no one to dance with now.”

“Someone can come along,” he said, a positive note in his voice, but the flicker of pain in his expression, she saw.
She hugged him, and mother and son stood there for a moment in each other’s embrace, pain in their hearts from the absence of a husband and father. He had walked out on them, his priorities in life having changed and never looked back, breaking his promises and vows. Times had become hard for her, but she did not give up, battling on with a little help from family and the church.

Today, she could afford to rent a comfortable, two-bedroom bottom flat as she awaited the processing of her application for a house lot that would give her a chance to own her own house. She still had a long way to go as she continued working and striving to lay a solid foundation for her children.

Alex had known she would be happy with the gift, because she loved to dance but since his father left, she had stopped dancing. Red was her favourite colour and knowing she had a red dress she hadn’t worn yet that her sister had given her for Christmas, he had looked around until he saw the perfect pair in the showcase of an exclusive boutique.
It cost more than the money he had and two days later, after borrowing some money from his grandmother, he went to the boutique but almost lost the shoes.
A tall gentleman was about to buy it, “For my sister’s birthday,” he was telling the salesgirl.

“Sorry, sir,” Alex had said without hesitation, “But that’s my mother’s shoes.”
The man had looked at him curiously, “Really, son? I thought these shoes were for sale.”
He looked at the sales girl, puzzled, “Are they not?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered.
“No,” Alex had said almost frantically, “I entered a logo competition and worked long hours on the design, so I could win the first prize money to buy these shoes for my mother, so she can dance again.”

The man had looked at the boy for a long moment, at the slight tremor on his lips, the money in his trembling hands and shaking his head resignedly, he had handed him the shoes saying, “Your mother is a lucky woman, to have a son like you.”
As Alex rode to school that morning, he wondered, “Now who can I get to dance with her?”
Since his father had walked away, she had shown no special interest in anyone.
“Not everyone wants a woman with three kids,” he had overheard her telling his grandmother one day.
“There must be someone,” Alex thought to himself, “Who is loving and kind.”

The days that followed were a little out of the norm from school, basketball practice and church for the young boy, for every good-looking gentleman he saw, he wondered if they were single and if they could be someone his mother would like.
One afternoon as he was shooting hoops, he paused and chided himself, “This is crazy, what am I thinking?”
He tried to push the thought at the back of his mind, as his mother continued to work to provide for her family.

It was almost four months since Mother’s Day and one afternoon on the basketball court, Alex fell and hurt his ankle. She rushed him to the hospital, praying in her mind, “Oh please God, don’t let this be bad.”
The x-ray showed it was just a hairline fracture and she sighed deeply in relief, “Thank you, dear Lord.”
She was walking back from the hospital’s dispensary after collecting some medication for Alex, when someone called her name.
“Jennifer.”

She turned around and saw it was one of the young doctors, not someone she knew, but he knew her name.
“Yes?”
“Don’t you remember me?” he asked, a courteous smile on his face.
She looked at him, tall with casual good looks, not sure she knew him, after he hinted, ‘high school.’
She gasped, “Oh my god, Dylan it’s you!”

He nodded, laughing a little at the surprised look on her face, “It’s been some time.”
“I know,” she said, pleased at meeting an old school friend.
“When you went away to Cuba to study, we lost contact.”
“It’s great seeing you again,” he said, and looking at Alex he asked, “Your son?”
“Yes,” she answered with pride, touching her son’s shoulder.
Alex could hardly believe it.

It was the gentleman from the store where he bought the shoes.
“Is she dancing now?” he asked Alex.
Jennifer looked puzzled as Alex shook his head and Dylan explained.
“I was at the store when he bought the red shoes for you so you can dance again.”
“Oh,” Jennifer exclaimed softly, looking a little uncomfortable.

“She stopped dancing since my father left,” Alex said, trying to make something happen here.
Jennifer looked at her son, surprised, “Alex you don’t have to–”
“What happened?” Dylan asked.
Jennifer shook her head a little, not wanting to talk about her failed marriage,
“It’s a long story, you really wouldn’t want to–.”

“I’d love to,” he interrupted her, “We were once best friends.”
She smiled wryly, “I have to go.”
She assisted Alex to his feet and as she turned to leave, Dylan asked, “Over dinner, maybe, Saturday night?”
She hesitated and Alex pinched her arm whispering, “Say yes, mom.”

She couldn’t help smiling at her son’s request and after a short moment, she nodded, “Okay.”
“Great,” Dylan said.
The wish in the boy’s heart was that the young doctor was the right one for his mother, the one thing that was missing from her life.
Now she would wear the red shoes and dance if there was music and a song in her heart.

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