Accompanied by a Waltz

by Andrew Grey

  Jeana stopped stirring. “After all they put you through, you still did this for them?”

  “It was always for you kids anyway,” Jonathon said as he walked to the cupboard to set the table. “You didn’t have to cook.”

  “Of course I did. I wasn’t in the mood for takeout.” She grinned and motioned toward the trash. “I swear you’d eat takeout every night if I wasn’t around. You cooked when you were in Vienna. You could do it when you’re home too.” Jeana turned down the heat under the sauce and put the pasta on to cook. “This is quick and easy anyway. I just started with jar sauce and doctored it.” She stirred the pasta, and Jonathon felt her watching him.

  “What is it? If you keep looking, you’ll stare a hole in my back.”

  “Aren’t you going to ask about Fabian?” Jeana said as she tapped the spoon against the edge of the pot.

  Jonathon set down the last plate, keeping his back to her and nearly jumping out of his skin when she touched him. “I don’t want to talk about it, Jeana.” She said nothing, and he turned around before heading to the bathroom, closing the door and standing in front of the mirror, staring at himself, watching.

  Jeana’s voice floated through the door. “Dinner’s ready.”

  “I’ll be right in,” Jonathon called, wiping his eyes with a tissue before throwing it in the trash and walking back to the dining room. “This smells wonderful,” he said, trying to change the subject as she brought in the serving bowl and some garlic bread. “Thank you.” He dished up their plates and began to eat.

  “I know you don’t want to talk about it, so I’ll talk.” Damn, the girl was so much like her father—pushy as hell. “Fabian’s miserable. All he did was mope around and talk about you.” She took a bite and swallowed. “It was sort of pathetic since you left him.”

  “Jeana.” His voice sounded sharper than he intended, and he did his best to soften it. “It was for the best. He has a good job and a life in Vienna. My life and job are here.” He set down his fork. “It was hard to leave, but I had to. It was time to go home.” Jonathon took a drink of his ice water. “Not everything works out like in the movies,” he whispered, wishing so very hard that it did. “Can we please talk about something else?”

  “Sure.” Jeana stared at him for a long time and then began telling him about all the places she’d been to and what she’d seen. Jonathon listened intently to her stories and for a while forgot about his own worries as they talked and laughed together. After they’d eaten, Jonathon cleared the table and did the dishes before spending the evening trying to read, but his mind just wouldn’t cooperate.

  Closing his book with a thud, Jonathon set it on the table. He’d read the same page three times and couldn’t remember a freaking thing. Getting up, he walked outside, standing on the deck, staring out over the water, watching as the last glimmers of light flashed off the waves and then disappeared, the sky going from hints of red to purples and then black in just a few minutes.

  “You okay, Dad?” he heard Jeana ask from behind him, and he nodded without turning around. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning,” she added, and Jonathon turned, giving her a hug.

  “Good night,” Jonathon said softly, and he watched as she walked toward her room before he turned back to stare out at the nearly complete, inky blackness of the water, feeling the darkness reach deep into him. “What have I done?” Jonathon asked himself softly, barely forming the words.

  Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander as the cool breeze blew over his skin. Almost immediately, his mind’s eye conjured up the evening in the park as he and Fabian danced under the stars. Jonathon could almost hear the music and see the lights twinkling in the trees. His body swayed slightly as the music played in his head, Fabian’s hand touching his, feet stepping, moving together, their bodies, each an extension of the other, moving as one. Jonathon could almost feel the intensity in Fabian’s eyes, looking deep inside him, as they made love with their clothes on. His eyes flew open as his hip bumped the railing. He hadn’t even realized that he’d started dancing until he came back to his senses. Shaking his head, glad Jeana hadn’t seen him, he once again returned his attention to the water, sighing softly. Moonlight now bounced off the waves, the water shining in the night.

  Turning around, Jonathon closed the patio door behind him before wandering through the house, turning off the lights before climbing into bed.

  HEFTING the suitcase, Jonathon placed it in the trunk before closing the lid. Walking back in the house, he mentally checked his list, making sure he had everything as he checked the rooms one last time, stopping in the living room, looking at the fireplace. He almost reached up and took Greg’s urn from the mantel, but he stopped himself with a smile. He didn’t need it anymore. Greg was with him all the time now, and he was happy with that. Turning, he bumped into Jeana, almost knocking her over as she passed in front of the doorway. “Sorry,” he said, and she mumbled something unintelligible on her way to her first cup of coffee. He heard her pour her mugful, followed by a soft sigh.

  “Feeling human?” Jonathon said teasingly, knowing he was exactly the same way.

  “Yes,” she breathed, taking another sip.

  “Are you coming to the lake? If so, you need to get your things in my car.”

  Jeana shook her head, wandering toward the deck. “I’ve got some things I need to do this afternoon, and I’m meeting some friends this evening in the city before I go back to Europe on Wednesday, but I’ll be up tomorrow before lunch.” She continued drinking her coffee, seeming more alert.

  “The kids have a half-day today, so I’ll be leaving early, right from school,” Jonathon explained as he picked up his case, getting ready to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Be sure to lock up everything in the morning.”

  “Don’t I always?” she retorted, rolling her eyes before setting down her mug and giving him a hug. “See you tomorrow, Dad,” she said with a smile before picking up her coffee and wandering toward her bedroom. Jonathon left the room, closing the door behind him. Opening his door, he sank into the white leather seats of his car, pressing the button to raise the garage door before backing down the driveway.

  After arriving at school, he got out, locking the doors and walking into the building through the metal detectors, going directly to his classroom. Since it was a half-day, he’d planned something fun and had even gotten the other third-grade teacher to help. Karen had been teaching her kids about France for years, and they decided to work together and expand the lessons to more of Europe and include both classes.

  Making sure everything was ready, Jonathon wandered to the teachers’ lounge.

  “Hey, Jonathon.” Duane, one of the sixth-grade teachers, approached. “I understand you have the gym reserved.”

  Jonathon finished pouring his coffee. “Yes. Since it’s a half day, I thought I’d do something special. Why?”

  “Just wondering how you finagled extra gym time.”

  “I didn’t. We’re using it for a lesson that takes a little extra space,” Jonathon answered quietly, trying to keep the peace. He looked at the clock, thankful to see he had five minutes before the kids started arriving. “If I don’t see you, have a great holiday weekend,” he added to the room in general before heading for the door, making a beeline to his room, gulping his coffee as he went.

  Reaching his room, he did a final check as the bell rang. After finishing his coffee, he put his mug in his desk and listened to the sounds of an army with tiny feet and small voices. Wandering into the hall, he watched as the kids got out of their jackets and began to file into the room. Once the second bell rang, he closed and locked his door before calling the class to order and taking attendance.

  The kids were wound up and excited. “Put your things in your desks and line up at the door.” Desks opened and closed, voices raised. “Quietly,” he reminded them, and the talking ended. When they were lined up, Jonathon opened the door and led his class down the hall to the gym, with t
he other class right behind.

  He had the kids sit on the floor in a small group. “We’ve started studying Austria, and Mrs. Coleson and I thought we’d do something special. One thing that is very important in European culture, particularly in Vienna, is dancing. But not just any dancing—waltzing.”

  “So,” Karen took over, “Mr. Pfister and I are going to teach you how to waltz.”

  Some of the kids jumped to their feet, already excited, while others tried to hide. Karen walked to the CD player. “We’re going to demonstrate for you,” Jonathon explained, and the music started. Taking Karen’s right hand, he placed his other on her hip and began to step to the beat of the music, a simple waltz. Counting out loud, Jonathon exaggerated his steps and let the kids watch. When the song ended, they stepped apart. “Everyone stand up.” The kids climbed to their feet, and two of the girls raised their hands.

  “Yes, Susie?”

  “I learned this in dance class,” she said a little timidly.

  “Has anyone else learned?” Jonathon asked, and a few raised their hands, Jonathon motioning the girls forward. The music started, and the girls began moving through the basic steps, holding their arms out to imaginary partners.

  “Very good,” Karen applauded when the song ended. Pairing the kids off took a few minutes, and then Karen spent the next half hour walking the children through the steps. Some did well and some had two left feet, but everyone seemed to have fun.

  Checking the clock, Jonathon noticed that they had less than half an hour before the dismissal bell. “Would you like to see how they dance in Vienna?” The children applauded, some jumping up and down. Jonathon held out his hand, and Karen walked to him.

  “I’ve never done this before,” she said quietly.

  “Just follow my lead and you’ll be fine.” He started the music, and Strauss’s “Tales from the Vienna Woods” began. Waiting through the introduction, Jonathon swayed with his partner, setting the rhythm, and they stepped into the dance. Immediately, the gymnasium, the children, Karen, everything fell away, and Jonathon was transported back to Schönbrunn, seeing once again the surprised expression on Fabian’s face when he’d led the man around the dance floor.

  A misstep by his partner shattered the illusion, slamming into him almost like a physical blow. Forcing himself to continue moving, he brought them to a stop. “Are you okay?” Karen asked him under her breath, and Jonathon nodded, stepping away and turning off the music, using the time to take deep breaths to clear his head.

  “Did you like that?” Karen asked, and the children hooted and screamed, jumping enthusiastically.

  “Line up,” Jonathon said, and the children separated into classes, lining up in front of their respective teachers for the short trip back to the classroom. In the room, there wasn’t much time left, and Jonathon had the children sit quietly until the bell rang, and then pandemonium broke out until they were out the door.

  “Jonathon, was something wrong?” Karen poked her head through the door. “When we were dancing, you seemed far away, and you had this dreamy look in your eye.” Karen lowered her voice. “Wherever you were, I want to go there too.” She gave him a quick smile and returned to her room. Jonathon cleaned up the room, packed his lesson planner in his bag, and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

  Walking through the nearly empty hallway, he returned greetings and waves, stopping in the office briefly to check his mailbox before walking outside and to his car. The sun warmed his skin as he opened his car door, slipping behind the wheel. Watching for children and other teachers, he backed out and pulled onto the street.

  Hours, a few stops, and many miles on freeways and a two-lane highway later, Jonathon turned into the small village of Raquette Lake, tired and excited at the same time. Parking his car near the boat dock, he shut off the engine and got out. Standing by the door, he inhaled deeply, the scent of the water filling his nose. Walking across the gravel lot, he stepped into the general store, buying a few provisions and, of course, the to-die-for doughnuts.

  It took some time to get the boat uncovered and all his things transferred, but then he was on the lake, motoring northward past coves and camps, through the needles and on to the far side of the lake, stopping at his dock. Jonathon got everything unloaded and dinner made just in time for him to eat it sitting on the porch, watching the sun dip behind the trees surrounding the water. The temperature continued to drop, and Jonathon went inside, got a thick quilt to wrap around his shoulders, and returned to his porch, sitting, listening, and thinking. The tension from the city fell away, but there was a part of it that stubbornly held on and would not let go. Finally, well after dark, when the only light shining anywhere came from a small nightlight in the kitchen of the cabin, the only sounds from the creatures of the night, Jonathon felt the tears come. Letting them fall, he continued staring at the lake, trying to wring the grief out of himself like a wet rag. Finally, burying his face in a corner of the quilt, he wiped his wet cheeks. At first he thought the grief was for Greg, but when he opened his mouth, the only name that came out was “Fabian.”

  The cool evening turned into a cold night, eventually driving Jonathon inside and under the quilts that covered his bed. His mind wouldn’t stop racing, and eventually Jonathon decided that when he got back to town, he was going to call Fabian and talk, really talk to him. Things couldn’t continue as they were, at least not for him. Jonathon had thought that, as time went by, the separation from Fabian would get easier, but it hadn’t. Even at school, which gave him plenty of other things to think about, he’d completely zoned out when he was dancing with Karen. Thankfully, it hadn’t been long, but all it had taken was that music, and he’d been transported. Finally, Jonathon fell asleep, only to be awakened by the sound of a boat motor.

  Thinking, Too early for Jeana, Jonathon rolled out of bed, still in his clothes, wiping his eyes as he walked to the door.

  “Morning,” Winston called from his boat.

  “Morning, Winston.” Jonathon returned his wave. “Coffee?” Jonathon saw the vigorous nod, and he went inside to put the pot on, hearing the caretaker’s footsteps on the porch. “Come on in,” Jonathon called from the kitchen, then heard the door open and close. “Everything okay on the lake?”

  The pot finished brewing, and Jonathon poured two cups, handing one to his guest. “Yup. Been quiet.”

  “That’s good.” Jonathon sipped his coffee and hunted up his workbag, pulling out an envelope. “Before I forget.” He handed it to Winston. “Please let me know if it’s not enough.”

  Winston peered inside the envelope, his eyes widening. “It’s too much,” he said, handing back the envelope.

  “No, it’s not,” Jonathon scolded lightly, handing back the envelope. “You’re worth every penny, and I want you to have extra in case it’s a heavy winter.”

  “Thank you,” Winston answered with a smile on his face. “Will you be here all weekend?”

  “Yes, and I hope to be up at least one more time this fall, but we should be ready to close by early October, if that’s okay.” It seemed too early to close the cabin for the winter, though he knew that was only because he hadn’t used it because he’d been gone for the summer.

  “Of course, that’s no problem. Just call and I’ll make sure everything’s ready.” Winston finished his coffee, setting the mug on the counter. “Thank you,” he said as he walked toward the door.

  “Stop by any time,” Jonathon called as the screen door banged closed and Winston hurried down to his boat.

  Pulling out the bag of doughnuts, wishing he’d offered one to Winston, Jonathon bit into one of the cinnamon-sugared gems, finishing his coffee before putting the bag away. Pulling on a sweatshirt, Jonathon got his fishing gear together and walked to the lake, climbing into the boat and casting off. He motored to the center of the cove in front of the cabin, baiting his hook and casting his line before settling in to wait. Jeana wouldn’t be here for hours, and already he was sick of his own
company.

  When Greg had been alive, this was the place they’d come to get away from the world. It was just the two of them, and coming here was what Greg needed to unwind and what Jonathon needed because he’d have Greg all to himself, for a while, anyway. This was also the place he’d come to grieve, because when he was here, Greg felt so close. Now it was just lonely. Sitting in the boat, Jonathon did his best to concentrate on the fishing line, the water, the trees around the shoreline, anything but the thoughts in his head. “Come on,” he actually said aloud to himself. “That’s enough of this crap.” Pulling in the line, he put his gear in the bottom of the boat and restarted the engine before taking off toward the far side of the lake. The wind and speed seemed to blow away his cloudy thoughts just as the first rays of sunshine broke through the morning fog. Skimming over the water, he let the exhilaration blow away the last of his maudlin feelings. Then he turned around and motored back to the cabin. He’d had enough of sitting around feeling sorry for himself. There were things to be done, and he had a great day to do them.

  Mooring the boat, he pulled out his fishing gear, packing everything away before carrying it back to the cabin. Going out the back door, he walked to the small storage shed, carrying his tools to the porch. One of the railings needed repair. He spent the rest of the morning determining what was wrong and deciding a new piece of railing was needed. Cutting a piece of birch, Jonathon fashioned it to fit by hand before drilling the holes and screwing the new railing in place. He was no master carpenter, but his work looked good, and the natural bark would weather beautifully. By spring, he’d hardly be able to tell the piece had been replaced.

  Gathering his tools, he placed them back in their box and shut the lid as a motor sounded over the water. Jonathon looked up and saw a small motorboat with two people in it. Paying them no mind, he finished his task and went inside, putting the tools away. Checking his watch, he realized that Jeana could be arriving any time. He glanced toward the water and saw the small boat pull up to his dock. Walking out onto the porch, he saw Jeana step out of the boat before tying it off and Jonathon wondered who was with her as he descended the stairs, meeting her as she walked toward him.