I'm looking at ninety empty seats right in the center. I'd been told there was a waiting list of several hundred for tonight's event. We wait for the children. But only a handful show up. We ask for those in the tops rows to come down and fill up the best seats in the house.
People are reluctant to move.
But hey, it's a lot better than Miami. I show her a photo of me at nine, in toe slippers. We laugh a lot. She asks me if I've ever considered writing about an anorexic ballerina. I tell her I probably won't.