by Anthology
* * *
“Are you just going to keep pushing that salad around in your plate?” Nancy asked.
“I’m not hungry.” Joanna sighed and gazed out the window of the downtown Westport bistro at a craggy mound of plowed snow. “It’s so dirty and gray out. It feels like spring’s never going to arrive.”
“I wish I could say I know what you’re going through,” Nancy said, munching a strip of grilled chicken. “But Sam and I are going to the grave together.”
“The curse of marrying the high school sweetheart,” Joanna drawled. “You can’t commiserate with the rest of us poor slobs who can’t seem to hang on to love.” She used her fork to slap an olive across her plate.
“Jo, are you sure there isn’t more to this story? Did she cheat on you or something?” Nancy brushed wispy, dyed-blonde bangs from her eyes as she awaited the answer.
“No. Well, I don’t think she did. I mean I have no proof.” Joanna suddenly got cranky at Nancy’s intimation. “And what do you mean by more? Isn’t what I told you enough?”
“I’m just asking.”
Joanna tapped her middle finger on the table cloth. “Well, she and her business partner run another club in South Beach. How do I know what she’s up to when she’s down there?”
“You think she fools around with the business partner?” Nancy asked.
“With Dawn?” Joanna grimaced. “You remember Ernest Borgnine?”
Nancy nodded.
“Dawn is the last person she’d fool around with, of that I’m certain.”
“I don’t picture Courtney as the philandering type anyway. And besides, why would anyone cheat on you? So you’ve got almost two decades on her. You’re a very well-preserved forty-eight.”
Joanna threw her cloth napkin on the table. “Is this supposed to be making me feel better?”
“It’s supposed to make me feel better. I’m a well-preserved fifty-two.”
“Nance, can we just drop this conversation? What difference does it make now? It’s over. And you did try to warn me about her. I guess I should’ve broken tradition and listened to you.”
“Hey, don’t go dragging me into this. Sure, at first I was more than a little wary of the age difference, but once I got to know Courtney, it wasn’t even an issue.” Nancy smiled in fond reminiscence. “I’m quite sad about it; I liked her. And you were so interesting with her, especially when you first started dating. I never knew you were such a horny devil.”
“Have yourself some incredible, earth-shaking sex and see if it doesn’t turn you into one,” Joanna replied.
“Thanks. Rub it in. You know that Sam is the only guy I ever…”
“I know,” Joanna interrupted with her hand. She moved the half-eaten salad to the edge of the table.
“Look, if you’re not going to eat a nutritive meal, order a gigantic hot fudge sundae. Might as well get all the mileage you can out of this calamity.”
Joanna nodded and glanced blankly out the window.
“Are you thinking it was a mistake leaving?” Nancy asked after a few moments.
Joanna glared at her. “No, of course not. Why would you even ask that?” She huffed as she returned her gaze to the winter landscape.
“You don’t have to bite my head off,” Nancy sniped. “It’s not an unreasonable question. And what do you keep staring at out there?”
Joanna faced her, determined to convince any doubters. “I had to get away from her. I hated who I was turning into. Believe me, Nancy. This was definitely the right decision.”
“If you say so,” Nancy replied and signaled for the waiter. “All I know is someone’s getting a sundae out of this.”
* * *
The Grind coffee house on Christopher Street bustled with its usual eclectic crowd.
An unkempt man in a linty pea coat jockeyed for position in line with what was either a drag queen fueling up for an early curtain or Reba McIntyre’s cousin from Flatbush.
Courtney studied a teenaged couple smooching and sharing secrets at a corner table. “Was love that easy for you, Julian?” she asked, still gawking at the teens.
“Why, of course,” he drawled, stirring Splenda into his coffee. “The entire Notre Dame High School football team fought over who’d get to take me to the prom.”
“I don’t mean then, I mean now. You’ve been with Ted for seven years, and you hardly ever complain about him. I’m just wondering why it’s never been that way for me. There was Maya and Lisa…”
“And a whole slew of others.”
“I really believed Joanna was the one. It felt so right, for most of the relationship. I mean we had our share of conflict, but we always managed to resolve it. And the make-up sex? I think that’s half the reason we fought.”
Julian rolled his eyes.
“God, Julian, if she isn’t the one, who is?”
He offered a sympathetic shrug. “I guess you just haven’t met her yet.”
She stubbornly folded her arms and shrunk into the wrought iron chair. “Impossible. She has to be the one.”
Julian tore a piece from his whole wheat bagel with organic vegetable and goat cheese spread. “You have to start consuming something other than coffee,” he said as he nibbled. “I suggested this place because I know how you love their sun-dried tomato bagels.”
She grimaced. “I can’t even think about food. I just feel so… dismantled.”
“Yeah, I can tell. I’m getting worried about you. You really look…” he seemed to struggle for a sensitive word, “bad.”
She took a sip of her dark roast blend. “What should I do, insert a feeding tube? It’s been five weeks, and it’s only gotten worse. Whoever the fucker was that said time heals all wounds should be shot.”
He handed her a piece of his bagel. “Here, gnaw on this for a while.”
She took the bagel and held it between her fingers as her knees rocked their round table. “Do you know what my new favorite pass time is, Julian? I pick up my cell phone, key in her initial; look at her number and then press Send, just long enough to watch the little dots attempt the connection. Then I press End just before it goes through. This is what I do every day.”
“You want some of my Xanax?”
Courtney sighed and glanced around the coffee shop, listening to the plaintive cries in Elvis’ “Suspicious Minds” and shook her head. “Who picks the music in this joint?” she called out to no one.
“Maybe you should let the little dots connect tomorrow.”
“What would be the point of that? You think I didn’t already beg and plead before she left? There isn’t any new fight we can have about this. She wants to move on, so if meeting some old bag to shack up with will make her feel more secure about herself, then I say have at it.”
After devouring the rest of his bagel, Julian snatched the piece he’d given Courtney and popped it in his mouth. “So are we ready to head to the club?”
They got up, gathered their trash and hit the exit.
“Are you sure you’re feeling up to this?” Julian asked.
“Are you kidding, Jules? I’m on top of the fucking world.”
“This oughtta be a night to remember,” Julian muttered as they left.
* * *
Joanna hugged herself tightly in the February night air as she stood outside Tango and watched the door swing shut. What had possessed her to jump in a cab outside the midtown Marriott and ride all the way down to the Village just to freeze out on the sidewalk? She didn’t even know for sure if Courtney was in there, although it really wasn’t much of a gamble.
She entered the club, her feet stepping in slow motion, ready to hand Debra the cover charge.
“Oh… hi, Joanna,” Debra said, waving Joanna’s money away. “Nice to see you again.”
Joanna produced a smile and knew by Debra’s broadsided expression that the word was out. She milled through the crowd, unsure what to expect. Would she be stoned by an angry mob for dumping Her Royal Hotness, or would
she be lauded for freeing her up for someone else? Like she cared. Edging just close enough to the main bar to see without being seen, she spotted Courtney serving customers beside Lucy. What am I doing here, she wondered when Courtney tossed her head back in laughter before a captive audience. She looked spectacularly sexy in a too-tight Tango shirt, a V cut to reveal a hint of cleavage, and clearly wasn’t all that broken up by the turn of events. The spectacle confirmed what Joanna had suspected about her all along.
Joanna had washed her hands of the club months ago and now the smell of sweat and cologne, the driving beat of house music vibrating her ear drums shot her into schizophrenia – the reason they’d met, the place that cracked and splintered them until nothing but little pieces remained.
The tremor in her hands spread to the rest of her. “This was a mistake,” she mumbled.
* * *
At the bar, as Lucy took a crisp twenty from a customer’s hand, she craned her neck to follow Joanna’s shape as it headed toward the entrance.
“Hey, Court,” Lucy said. “I could swear I just saw Joanna turn around and leave.”
Courtney was off like a shot, charging through the crowd, spraying “Sorries” over everyone she bumped and slammed on her trek to the door.
* * *
“Joanna.”
The voice in the frigid night air jerked Joanna’s Blahnik boots to a halt. How the hell did she… oh, never mind.
She stopped but didn’t turn around, listening to the thump of Courtney’s Timberlands trot toward her.
“What are you doing here?” Courtney asked with a semi-smile.
God, she’s beautiful. “I, uh, I don’t know, to be perfectly honest. I’m supposed to be asleep at the Marriott in the room next to my sister, niece, and great-nephew.”
“The Lion King,” Courtney said with a knowing smile. “How did Nicky like it?”
“He loved it. Chrissy and Nancy are probably still trying to get him to sleep.”
“Why did you leave so soon?” Courtney asked. She rubbed her bare arms to stave off hypothermia.
“Because.” Joanna grasped for words. “I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”
“I’m not sure how to react either, but we don’t have to stand out here. I mean you’re welcome to come in.”
“I think I should just go.”
“Why?”
“Because I shouldn’t have come here in the first place.” Joanna withered at the pained look on Courtney’s face.
“But you did,” Courtney said.
“I know, but I can’t stay.” She started walking down the street toward the subway entrance.
“Jo, wait. You’re not going to take the subway this time of night,” Courtney shouted as she ran toward her.
“I’ll hail a cab.”
“There are no cabs around here. Let me zip you up Seventh. My car is in the lot right across the street.”
Joanna sighed, weakening from the lure of Courtney’s magnetism and sweet, pleading eyes. She tried to be tough. “I’ll call a cab from my cell. Will that make you feel better?”
“Let me drive you back to your hotel. That’ll make me feel better.” Courtney’s gaze was unnerving.
Joanna sighed, her eyes aimed at the sidewalk, and finally nodded.
“Let me get my coat and keys. Don’t disappear,” Courtney demanded as she jogged back to the bar.
The heat blasting in the car made Joanna’s cheeks flush, or was it Courtney? She loosened the seatbelt rubbing across her neck and then re-clasped her fingers in her lap.
“Mind if I put on the radio?” Courtney asked.
Joanna puzzled at her asking. Since when did Courtney ask to do anything? “Sure, that’s fine.”
Courtney pressed power and the CD came on. Toni Braxton’s “You Mean the World to Me,” their song, blared. She quickly fumbled for the FM button.
“There’s a nice, uncomfortable coincidence,” Joanna said.
“Or is it irony? I always get those two confused.”
They both laughed. “I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t want to be quizzed on it,” Joanna replied.
The release felt good. Joanna unclasped her fingers and wiggled the blood back into them. “So, how are you? Seeing anyone?” She cringed the moment it came out. Just her luck the light turned red.
Courtney’s head whipped toward her. “Seeing anyone? No, Joanna. No, I’m not seeing anyone. Are you?”
“No.” Joanna kept looking forward. She recognized that tone. It meant pissed with a capital pissed. But wait, why wasn’t Courtney veering the car to the curb so they could launch into another screaming match? Maybe she’d changed, evolved from the incendiary personality that kept things between them as volatile as they were passionate. Or maybe she just didn’t care anymore. So much for releasing the tension.
The next few blocks were even more excruciating as traffic crawled along. Joanna concentrated so hard on the tail lights of the cab ahead of them, her vision blurred.
“Why did you ask me that?” Courtney finally asked.
“Ask you what?” Joanna deflected, glancing out the passenger window.
“If I’m seeing anyone,” Courtney replied impatiently.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m just wondering if you’ve moved on.”
“Oh, I see. Can’t stand the guilt.” Courtney’s voice began overtaking the din of the radio, her knuckles whitening on the wheel. “Look, I don’t know what exactly you expect of me, but I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you. I haven’t moved on, okay? I’m still stuck here simmering in my own shit, so it’s really hard for me to offer you any absolution right now.”
“The reason I asked wasn’t to absolve any guilt,” Joanna said, managing a calm tone. “I asked because I still care about you.”
Courtney laughed and shook her head. “That’s brilliant, Jo.”
The passing streetlights flashed intermittently across Courtney’s profile. She was agitated. A twitching bottom lip signaled her fight to suppress her emotions. Joanna glanced out the window, away from the sting of her actions. What have I done? Knowing it was the right thing didn’t seem to matter at that moment.
Luckily, by that time, Courtney was pulling up to the hotel lobby entrance. She pressed the unlock button, but Joanna didn’t move.
In her folly, Joanna had assumed an overnight stay in the city with Nancy and the kids would boost her spirits. But arriving that afternoon had only sprung Courtney into the forefront of her mind. Throughout dinner, and the lavish musical, and later as they scoured the theatre district for a cappuccino, Courtney stalked Joanna’s consciousness. At Sardi’s, Joanna had preached to Nancy that she wouldn’t see Courtney until a reasonable period had passed, yet there she was, only hours later, seated next to her in the discomforting proximity of Courtney’s leather seats.
“Thanks for the ride, Court, and I’m sorry about this. A confrontation was not at all my intention.”
Courtney turned to her and managed a sincere smile. “Call me crazy, but it was good to see you again.”
“You, too.” Joanna was grateful for the self-restraint not to lean over and kiss her. She’d convinced Nancy at dinner the reason for not seeing Courtney was for Courtney’s benefit, but at that moment, the real story made itself known with a warm tingle between her legs.
* * *
An hour later, with make-up washed off and sleep shirt thrown on, Joanna was still unable to sleep. She curled her legs half inside the bed linens and popped bubbles from a wad of sugarless gum as she studied a Times crossword puzzle through narrow reading glasses. The knock on her door made her bobble the pen.
“Hi?” Joanna said it in the form of a question, peering over her reading glasses.
Courtney smiled. “Finish the puzzle yet?”
Joanna pulled off her glasses. “Almost.”
“I know I won’t be able to sleep either; that’s why I’m not even going to try.”
“I guess after four years, some things you don’t forget.�
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“I haven’t been able to forget anything about you, not that I haven’t tried,” Courtney said quite casually as she breezed past Joanna into the room. “Wanna see if there’s an old Joan Crawford movie on?”
“It’s almost two-thirty.” The tantalizing wake of Courtney’s Calvin Klein Euphoria invigorated her.
“At least when the movie’s over it’ll be time for breakfast.”
Joanna studied her for a moment. “Court, do you really think this is a good idea?”
“I don’t want to go home, all right? Not in the dark, it’s hard being alone and awake in the dark. Besides, you’re the one who said you hoped we can be friends.”
“I did say that, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did.” Courtney snagged the remote and plopped herself down at the foot of the king-size bed. After surfing around, she settled on a rerun of “Magnum, P.I.”
Joanna resumed the crossword puzzle, reading the same clue over and over again. The sounds of Courtney clearing her throat, giggling at a Geico gecko commercial and just breathing were impossibly distracting. She watched the waves of Courtney’s light brown hair roll across the top of her T-shirt. Her eyes traced the curve of Courtney’s back down to the waistband of her low-rise jeans. The small of her back peeked out from her shirt as she stretched forward.
Joanna got up and poured herself a cup of iced water, forgetting that her sleep shirt covered only the top half of her thighs. Courtney’s eyes checking her out in her periphery reminded her.
“Can I have a sip of that?” Courtney asked, walking over to the dresser.
Joanna held up an index finger as she gulped the rest of the water. Her thirst seemed unquenchable. “Here, let me refill it.”
Courtney’s eyes seared into hers. When Joanna offered her the cup, Courtney’s warm hand caressed her fingers in the transfer. But the cup never made it to Courtney’s lips. Instead, her lips landed on Joanna’s in soft, sensual pecks. Joanna closed her eyes and let Courtney’s firm hands sneak up the outside of her thighs, catching the hem of her sleep shirt and dragging it slightly up. She took Courtney’s head in her hands and plunged her tongue into her mouth, savoring the velvety wetness. Courtney stroked the back of her thighs, caressed her ass.
