Touch Me When We're Dancing

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Touch Me When We're Dancing Page 10

by Suzanne Jenkins


  ***

  Lisa and Steve lingered at the dinner table long after they’d eaten. She was learning about his life, raised by musician parents in Hoboken, spending his childhood among famous singers and band leaders with every musical instrument at his disposal.

  “I think I was adopted,” he said. “My parents deny it, but I am nothing like them. They’re both talented musicians. I don’t even look like them. They’re blond and fair skinned. I did get their blue eyes.”

  “Your eyes are amazing,” Lisa said, hoping she wasn’t looking into the eyes of another brother, his adoption comment bothering her. “Mine are blue, but yours are blue blue.”

  “Your eyes are gorgeous. Pools of blue like the blue of the Aegean Sea and the rooftops of the houses on the cliffs in Santorini.”

  “How nice,” Lisa said, smiling.

  “How corny, you mean,” he replied. “I’m a poet and don’t know it.”

  “So how did you decide to go into gynecology?”

  “Well, it’s really not that hard to explain. I wanted medicine, but didn’t like internal medicine because it was too general. I hate surgery because I can’t stand surgeons. I decided to do something I love, and I love women.

  “I love helping women give birth. Plus women are easy to be around. They tell you what’s wrong and usually take advice.”

  “Do you get sick of looking at, you know, our lady parts?” Lisa asked, giggling.

  “No, because it’s just a body part on my patient, like a nose or an elbow.”

  “Is it difficult to go from that professional situation to being in a romantic one?”

  “I don’t think so,” he said.

  “Give me an example, quick,” she said eagerly. “Don’t think about it too much!”

  “Okay! A good example is when we were dancing, I looked at your boobs and wanted to bury my face right there.”

  While she laughed, he pointed to her cleavage, getting close but not touching her.

  “So the sweater worked,” she said softly, looking at him with her eyes half closed and a grin.

  “Yes. You got my attention. I want to touch them right now. Does that answer your question?”

  “I guess so,” she said, giggling.

  Holding hands, they sat together, pensive.

  “What do we do now?” she said, wanting to jump him.

  “We can’t do what I want to do,” he said, frowning. “So I’ll say I feel like playing chess. Do you have a set?”

  “Do I have a chess set? I have several,” she said, laughing, but maybe a little disappointed. There were unpacked boxes stacked along the wall. “It’s in one of these.”

  She moved boxes around with his help and found one that had board games written on its side.

  “Here it is,” she said. “The only thing missing is a case of wine. It’ll be weird not getting drunk while playing.”

  “I don’t know that I can play drunk,” he said.

  “That’s why I never win.” She set the box on the table. “You can set it up and I’ll clean up from dinner.”

  “Let me help you.”

  “There’s not much to do because I didn’t cook anything. It all came from Organic Bonanza.”

  “My favorite store,” he said.

  While he set the game up, she put another log on the fire and straightened up the kitchen. They sat hunched over the game for hours, and finally Lisa yelled, “Check!”

  “I’m a poor loser,” he whined when he realized she had him trapped. “It’ll mean we have to play another game.”

  “It’s almost ten,” she said, looking out the window. “Let see what the snow is doing.”

  She flicked on the floodlight again, and snow still came down, a foot of it piled up on the outside windows of the porch.

  “I hate the TV, but I’ll turn it on for the weather at ten.”

  “I hate it, too,” he said, high-fiving. “Can I have more pie?”

  “Of course!” she said.

  She switched on the TV before she got pie, and the big story was the storm, another nor’easter.

  “We’re going to get slammed,” he said. “Maybe I should take off before I can’t get out of your driveway.”

  “You’re welcome to stay,” she said. “I really mean it. I’ve fallen asleep on the couch and it’s comfortable. If you want privacy, you can have one of the boys’ beds.”

  “I’m afraid if I don’t stay, I won’t see you tomorrow. Although you’re not so far that I couldn’t cross-country ski over here.”

  “No way! I cross-country ski. I mean I used to. When I was in high school, my dad and I skied all over Suffolk County. I bet my mother still has my skis!”

  “Where’d you go to college?”

  “University of Oahu. So you know there was no skiing there.”

  “Ha! I guess not. Do you want to ski tomorrow?”

  “I’d love to. But then you’ll have to go home, and I’m not ready for the night to be over. It’s only ten.”

  “How about if I stay until bedtime? I’ll be back over for breakfast in the morning, and then we can hike over to your mother’s house to get your skis.”

  “I can’t wait. I haven’t done anything like that since I had kids. You’ll see how out of shape I am.”

  “I saw you salsa, and you’re in pretty good shape as far as I’m concerned.”

  “The clock is ticking until I have a new baby to take care of. I’d better get as much packed into the next four months as possible.”

  “You seem to be doing pretty good with the three you have. Do you feel like telling me about Dan’s little one that isn’t yours?”

  “You’ll probably think I’m a dope,” Lisa replied, sitting down next to him on the couch.

  “No, I won’t at all.”

  “Well, he had an affair right after our first child was born, and the woman got pregnant. She was angry with him and hit him over the head with a cast-iron skillet and ended up going to jail for attempted murder. She had the baby in jail, and I insisted that the baby come to live with us. His mother was eventually released. Tomorrow night, both boys will go to her house for the night.”

  Leaving out all the personal garbage, that Cara was Miss New York, that they had been friends, and about her affair with Cara, she doubted it would come up in conversation, and if it did, she’d tell him then if he asked.

  It was another confusing story, and Steve didn’t ask for details. Suddenly, he felt sorry for Lisa, like she had a big heart and was easily taken advantage of. When she stopped talking, he put his arm around her.

  “I really like you,” he said.

  “I really like you, too. I guess it’s pretty lucky I made the appointment to see you today instead of Marilyn.”

  “Why did you do that?” he asked.

  “I’d already waited too long, and then she didn’t have anything open for a month. I wanted to see someone because of the exposure. I was worried that I would need to take medicine right away for it.”

  “And now you still can’t see her for a month. How about if I schedule your prenatal blood work and an ultrasound? You can start taking prenatal vitamins. I don’t have to do an exam. Then you can at least have that out of the way and have peace of mind.”

  “Okay, that would be great. Thank you.”

  In her gratefulness to him, she leaned over and gave him a peck on the lips. But it was all the encouragement he needed, because he put his hand up to the back of her head and pulled her over for a real kiss.

  Chapter 8

  Sometime in the night, Valarie left Tim’s bed and tiptoed to the little room off the nursery. At the crack of dawn, Brent woke up and went directly to Tim’s room, forgetting Valarie was going to sleep close by.

  “Daddy, breakfast, please.”

  “Buddy, it’s only seven. Come in bed with me and let’s cuddle.”

  “Can I have mini muffins in bed?”

  At that point, he would’ve given the kid a bazooka if he’d let him sl
eep.

  “Yes, get mini muffins.”

  He heard little footsteps and then a chair dragging across the floor, the sound of a cupboard opening, paper rattling, a plop, and then footsteps running back to the bedroom.

  “Can you open it?”

  Tim tore open the bag of highly processed, sugar-laden muffins.

  “Can I have my iPad?”

  Unplugging it from the charger, he handed it over to the child, who started it and got it going without any assistance.

  “We’ve created a monster,” Tim mumbled, turning over to sleep.

  Two hours later, Brent curled up on his side, sleeping, Tim woke up to the smell of bacon cooking. The sun was shining in the window, and Tim forgot about the snow until he looked outside.

  “Oh, crap.”

  They had nearly two feet. He pulled on sweatpants and walked out to the kitchen. Valarie was in an oversized T-shirt that looked like it might have been one of his.

  “Aren’t you cold?” he asked, going over to kiss her on top of her head.

  “Freezing. I didn’t want to make any noise when I went to bed last night because of you know who.”

  “What time did you leave?”

  “After midnight sometime. Lisa’s date left, and the sound of him scraping his windows woke me up.”

  “Ah, so he left,” Tim said.

  “Don’t get too excited. He’s back. He skied over.”

  “I’d think the snow is too deep to cross-country ski,” Tim said, frowning.

  “Well, he’s here, so it must be doable.”

  “I’ll make toast,” he said, changing the subject.

  “Sit. I’ll make it,” she said, and he grabbed her for a hug.

  But they were interrupted by Lisa knocking on the door.

  Tim opened it for her. “You don’t have to knock.”

  Lisa looked at Valarie in the T-shirt, her big breasts unharnessed and sexy. “I guess I came at a bad time,” she said, frowning, looking from Tim with no shirt, messy hair and sweatpants to Valarie obviously wearing his T-shirt.

  “You’re fine,” Valarie said, Tim chiming in, “What’s going on?”

  “My mother just called. Sandra showed up there looking for you.”

  “She came out in this? How the hell is that possible?” Tim asked.

  “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Valarie said.

  “What did Pam do?” Tim asked, his heart pounding.

  “She called me, of course. The papers you have signify supervised visits. Do you want my advice?”

  “Yes!”

  “Call your attorney right now and ask him what you should do. If he says it’s okay, you might as well let her see Brent.”

  “Is your mother okay?” Tim asked.

  “Pam’s fine,” Lisa said. “This is small potatoes compared to what she’s faced with right now. I’ll tell you about it later.” Lisa turned to leave. “Honest to God, the drama around here would choke a horse.”

  Enjoying a quiet morning with Randy at the kitchen table, the last thing Pam expected when she heard the doorbell that morning was a visit from Sandra. They’d gotten all that snow, and she had to sweep the snow out of the hallway after she opened it.

  “You don’t answer my calls, so I decided just to show up.”

  “I have nothing to say to you,” Pam said.

  “Are you going to invite me in? It wasn’t exactly easy getting here.”

  “Do I have a choice?” But she stood aside for her to pass by.

  “I stopped at Lisa’s first this morning and found, as I’m the last to know, that she’s moved with no forwarding address. I want to see my son! She can’t keep me away from him.”

  “Lisa has nothing to do with your son,” Pam said. “You have her mixed up with Tim.”

  “You know where he is, don’t you?”

  “Yes. They’re living with Lisa. If you’ll calm down, I’ll call her. They have paperwork from CPS stating Tim has sole custody of Brent.”

  “I know that,” Sandra said. “But the circumstances have changed. I’m not in jail, as you can see, and I’m not under suspicion of murder. He took Brent illegally.”

  “Actually, he didn’t,” Randy said, joining them. “You were in jail. At that point, you’d lost your rights as a parent.”

  “You! You attempted murderer! It was your chimpanzee who clobbered me over the head because you wanted me out so badly. Well, it didn’t work out the way you thought, did it?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Furthermore, you’re not at Lang anymore, are you?”

  That set her off.

  “I want my son!”

  “Sit down and shut up, and we’ll call Lisa,” Randy said. “I’ll call the police, too, if you don’t calm down.”

  Tim called his attorney and was told to use his judgment about letting her see the boy. It wouldn’t hurt their case, if that was what he was concerned about. After he spoke with Lisa about it, she called Pam. They decided the best thing to do was to meet at the park, even though it was freezing cold outside with two feet of snow. That way the visit would be short.

  “This is ridiculous!” Valarie said, crying as she picked out warm clothes for Brent to wear.

  “I know. But it will be okay. We’ll take the papers with us. My attorney is calling the police to send a car to the park in case she tries to take him. It’ll be okay.”

  They bundled up and trudged through the snow two blocks away to the park. The parking lot was cleared, however, and a long limousine was there, exhaust curling out of the tailpipe.

  “Leave it to the drama queen to hire a car. I wondered how she got here.”

  Tim helped Valarie and Brent cross the street when a patrol car pulled up. The officer got out and spoke with Tim, who handed over the copies of the court papers from CPS.

  “Why are you even bothering with her?” the officer asked.

  “She came from the city in this weather, and we were worried she’d stop at nothing to see him. We’re just trying to keep it sane.”

  Sandra got out of the car and started to walk toward them when Brent saw her.

  “Do you want to see Mommy?” Valarie asked.

  Brent screamed, “No!” and held onto Valarie, digging his hands into her neck. “No!”

  Tim was taken aback. “She’s never hurt him or even raised her voice to him.”

  “If he doesn’t want to see her right now, don’t make him,” the cop said. “I’ll talk to her. Go on home. Coming out in this weather is passive-aggressive in the extreme.”

  “An intellectual cop,” Valarie whispered. “Makes the hair on my neck stand up.”

  They left the park, Sandra furious, shouting at Tim, and when they finally got home, Brent calmed down like nothing had happened.

  Lisa and Steve were in back of the house, getting ready to walk to Pam’s to get her skis.

  “What happened?” she asked after introductions were made, picking Brent up to kiss.

  “He freaked out, and the cop said he didn’t have to see her,” Tim said.

  “Ugh, you had the cops?”

  “My attorney called them,” he said. “We’d better get this guy inside.”

  “No! I want to make a snowman,” Brent yelled, trying to get down out of Lisa’s arms.

  “Jeesh, he’s kind of a brat today,” Tim said.

  “It’s the stress,” Valarie said, going to make a snowman.

  “She’s probably right,” Lisa said. “Well, we’ll see you later. Alison is keeping Megan for me today, and I have to take advantage of the freedom. You’re among the few people who know it won’t be for long.”

  Tim watched Lisa trudge through the snow with the doctor and his stupid skis. “I hate athletes.”

  Valarie came alongside him and took his hand. “I do, too. By the way, I’m making tortillas today. I brought all the stuff with me, my pan and lard, and I’m going to cook until my heart is content.”

  “That sounds like the per
fect way to spend a snow day,” Tim said. “Come on, Brent! Let’s look at the sea before we go inside.”

  He took the adults’ hands, and they walked around the house to the beach side. The snow had blown off the sand for the most part, mounds of it around the houses, and icebergs churned at the water’s edge.

  “I love it here,” he said. “I hope my next book makes us that million dollars to buy a place here on the water.”

  “Makes us? You’re including me?”

  “Of course. Where I go, you go,” Tim replied.

  “Tim, I think it will take more than a million to buy here.”

  “Well, then I hope Lisa lets us live with her for the rest of our lives.”

  “Ha! I think she will. She loves the boy.”

  “This is just breathtaking,” he said.

  “You’re not kidding, and I’m sick of it already,” Valarie said, laughing. Tugging on his arm, she pulled him away. “I hate the cold. Let’s get into the warm house.”

  ***

  While Tim and Valarie took Brent inside, Sandra seethed in the car. She’d closed the glass window between the front of the limo and her seat and had Michael on the phone, trying to soothe her. At the last minute she’d told him he didn’t have to come along, the snow too deep to go looking for a beach rental that weekend.

  “He screamed bloody murder when he saw me. Michael, I swear to you, I never so much as pretended to spank that kid. The cop came over to me and asked me if I have a history of spanking Brent.” Sobbing, Sandra couldn’t believe what had just happened. “He told me to take it up with my lawyer and not expect the kid to see me when there’s two feet of snow on the ground.”

  Michael had thought the same thing but fortunately didn’t voice it. “Honey, just come back to the city and let me take care of you. You had two messenger deliveries. I swear to God this city never stops.”

  “Well, that’s exciting. It might be my contracts,” she said. “I’m headed home.”

  They hung up and she put her head back on the seat. An itch she often got when under stress came to her, a need for something perverse, for a kind of a malevolent action, and she recognized it for the first time, that it was a response, and she didn’t need to succumb to it. It was what had driven her to see Jack, to sleep with Ryan, to go off with Michael in the first place, a self-destructive impulse that had ruined her marriage to the first decent man since Tom Adams. Why? There was nothing in her history with her family or growing up that could have precipitated such behavior. It might be time to see a therapist.

 

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