Learning the movements reminded Wanda of dancing, and dancing was something she did very well. She'd spent her entire life learning dance and it was like second nature, a talent she'd continued to develop even after she'd officially quit playing piano. A talent she'd had rare occasion to use since she'd left Genosha the first time. Still, out of practice she was not inept, and even when she got frustrated with what Danny tried to teach her she retried and caught on quickly.
Repetitive movements, graceful, patient, slower, shift, slide, hand, arm, ankle, wrist, leg, rise, lower, twist, adjust, lift, pivot, just so. It was, indeed, like a ballet and it brought her back to her childhood and hours with Mme. Blanchard in the little mirrored dining room her father had converted into a "studio" just for her. Tap lessons later, a little jazz, some hip hop, too much ballroom- waltz, foxtrot, quickstep- east coast swing, belly dancing, and so much time on Latin dances; rumba, salsa, and-her favorite- the tango. This Tai Chi was just another dance to learn. She was thoroughly enjoying it, much more than the silent still meditation.
Wanda was almost disappointed when they stopped and she listened to him with a near frown, her eyebrows raising at the suggestion of a massage. She cracked a smile. He seemed flustered. "Sure, I'll go see her," she assured him in an effort to assuage his apparent defensiveness. She continued to nod, acquiescent, until he asked his final question. Her lips pursed and she shook her head slowly. "You're good," she commented, but offered nothing more by way of explanation. Let him make of that what he would.