by Karen Renee
As soon as we cleared the outer corridor to the women’s restroom, Marnie stopped me with a firm grip on my shoulder and started giggling. Hysterically.
I looked at her and asked, “Are you ok? Why are you laughing?”
She took a deep breath to say, “Warren told me you were a breath of fresh air when you and his son were together. In there, you proved that to me beyond a shadow of a doubt, dear. I’ll have a very hard time not telling Warren about this, and then I thought of your remark that you divulged more information to me about my soon-to-be step-son, and I pictured myself telling War the same thing. I can’t even imagine his face if I tell him what you had to say about that particular piercing.”
Marnie broke into more giggles; when she stopped she added, “I don’t know. There’s a possibility Warren’s expression at that might even be better than the look on my sister Betty’s face in there!”
I grimaced, but said, “Don’t tell his dad. Please.”
She patted my arm, “I’ll do my best, dear, but it’ll be tricky.”
As we moved into the restaurant, a DJ announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is being served. Please take your seats.”
*** ***
I found myself seated in between Vamp and his brother, Brock. On our side of the table, we were sitting in a long bench-style seating arrangement. His youngest brother Gabe was seated across from me. Marnie was seated to Gabe’s right, and Mr. Sullivan was sitting on Marnie’s right. Betty and her daughters were seated at the far end of the table. All three of them looked uncomfortable way down there. I suppressed my chuckle about that, and when I looked up I noticed Marnie giving me a sly grin.
“You’re going to tell me about what you and Marnie are smiling about later, baby,” Vamp whispered in my ear.
Before I could respond, Gabe asked me, “So, Lorraine, how did our rough-and-ready biker brother manage to meet a girl-next-door type such as you? I always wondered that years ago, but never got the chance to ask.”
I swallowed a sip of my white wine. “I got my belly-button pierced and Cary was at the same tattoo-slash-body piercing shop to get his gages expanded.”
Brock asked from my left, “So, you two really back together?”
I gave Brock a sideways glare and said, “We’re not.”
At the same time, Vamp said, “Gettin’ there.”
Both brothers chuckled at that, and I turned my glare to Vamp. “Don’t mislead your family. It’s one thing that you’re suffering from delusions, but don’t put them under the same false impression.”
“I think you might be deluding yourself, dear. Especially if what you said in the restroom to my nieces about Cary is anything to go by,” Marnie said.
My father was Italian, and I had been blessed with his olive skin-tone, but with the heat in my cheeks, I knew I was blushing fiercely. I could feel the eyes of all four Sullivan men on me, which did not help matters.
Gabe looked at Marnie and back to me, “Now this, I’ve got to hear!”
I stabbed at my roasted potatoes and began to rethink whether or not I liked Marnie all that much. My silence was not welcomed by the men around me.
“Well, if Lorraine won’t tell us, then Marnie, you really should fill us in,” Brock chided.
My wine was running low and I looked at Marnie’s cocktail glass to see hers was low also. Before she could say anything, I chirped, “Marnie, I think you need a fresh drink. I’d go, but I’m stuck on the booth side of the table, so would you –”
“Not happening, Lorraine,” Warren interrupted me, “My woman’s had four and her limit’s five. I plan to ply her with that fifth drink when we’re finally alone tonight.”
Well, shit and damn. There went that plan.
“Lorraine, dear, it wasn’t as bad as all that. My nieces and my own sister showed their asses by being narrow-minded about people with multiple piercings. Cary’s friend here put them in their place in a very fine fashion.”
In my peripheral vision I noticed movement on my right side, and then I could feel the warmth of Vamp’s arm around my shoulders.
“So, she stuck up for me, is what you’re saying?” Vamp asked.
Marnie tilted her head ever so slightly from one side to the other, and then she said, “Yes, most definitely.”
Vamp’s hand squeezed my shoulder and I noticed he gave Marnie a chin-lift. He nudged my knee with his knee under the table, “Thanks, Lorraine,” he murmured to me.
“You’re welcome,” I murmured to my plate, which got me another shoulder-squeeze.
The DJ made an announcement that he would take requests and even play songs from people’s phones or iPods if they wished. I suddenly remembered Vamp waking me up with Maroon 5’s “Misery,” and I decided I would communicate with a song of my own. After Warren and Marnie danced what looked like a fox-trot to Frank Sinatra’s “The Way You Look Tonight,” other couples in their fifties took to the dance floor to cut a rug to Sixties music. When Vamp finally had to go to the restroom, I slipped out of the bench seating, and dug my iPod out of my purse.
I walked over to the DJ’s table and cued up the song I wanted him to play. It was Harry Connick Jr.’s “Someday.” It was a jazz trio style song where Harry croons about how he’ll find someone new and his old flame will someday suffer just as he did. It was probably a touch petty of me (ok scratch the touch part), but I seriously did not think Vamp knew just how badly he had done me. Much like what happened at the dinner table, though, my plan backfired.
When Warren Sullivan was done dancing with Marnie and he heard the piano, drum and bass combo, he bee-lined to me.
“Dance with me, Lorraine?” He asked a question that sounded far more like a demand.
“Fine, but this song isn’t for you.”
His large hand took mine and his other hand went to the small of my back, “I don’t care. I love a good jazz trio, and as I recall you also love some good jazz and blues music. But since you mentioned it, who is this song for?”
By that time, Harry had started singing, so with a sigh I said, “Who do you think? I probably shouldn’t have done it. It’s not a very nice song when you get down to it, though the melody is quite catchy.”
Warren smiled down at me and his crisp blue eyes twinkled at me, “Actually, I think this is a very appropriate song, dear. You see, if I’m hearing the lyrics right, I can assure you that my stubborn son has definitely suffered.”
“I can’t imagine how,” I scoffed.
I expected Warren to respond to that but he gave me a skeptical look, and then his hands twirled me out and reeled me back in time with the music. I fought hard not to beam at him. It was one of the best things about Cary’s father. He may have been deserted by the boys’ mother, but he loved dancing. His parents had forced him to learn ballroom and social dances, so when they wanted their grandsons to learn also, he didn’t fight it. Subsequently, all three of his sons were among the best dancers I knew.
Warren gave me a long, considering look, and then he said, “I shouldn’t tell you this, but since you apparently stuck up for my son in a very fine fashion, I think you need to know. He calls me every year on your birthday.”
My birthday was in late November, and it seemed like every seventh year or so it would fall on Thanksgiving Day proper. With that in mind, it was no wonder that Warren got a call from his son on my birthday.
With a head tilt, I said, “I don’t think that’s significant since my birthday is so close to Thanksgiving that it actually is Thanksgiving Day some years.”
Warren squeezed my hand in his, “Oh, he calls me on Thanksgiving, too, and it most certainly is significant that at some point during that conversation he randomly says, ‘I miss her, Pop.’ The regret in his voice is almost palpable, dear. I had it in mind that this year when he called I was going to lay the tough love on him. Looks like I might not have to do that now.”
“Mr. Sullivan –”
“Warren, dear, please.”
“Well, I don
’t think –”
Vamp was standing behind his father and had tapped him on the shoulder, “May I cut in, Pop?”
Mr. Sullivan gave me the very same sly grin that was currently on his son’s face. “But of course. I think my work here is done and I need to find my lovely bride-to-be.”
Vamp took my hand and placed his other hand on my back, but much lower than where his father had.
“I don’t know why you bothered. The song is pretty short and practically over.”
The grin had not left his face, and after my admonishment it grew into a full-on beaming smile, “I know that, darlin’. You’re not the only one who can make song requests in order to send a specific message.”
When the distinct bass-line and drumbeat of “You Sexy Thing” started playing, I knew my plan had definitely backfired. Warren and Marnie were now out on the floor with us, and other couples were bitten by the bug to dance to the Seventies pop hit. I noticed that Brock and Gabe were dancing near us on their own. A strange feeling crept up my neck; I suspected Vamp had conned them into helping him out in some way.
Vamp sang along with the first lyric, but when the singer sang the name of the song, his brothers joined in, loudly. If I thought I was blushing earlier at the dinner table, it was nothing compared to the fire on my cheeks now. Marnie’s nieces had not-so-subtly danced their way over to Brock and Gabe, but Vamp’s brothers weren’t paying attention to them. As the music moved into the second set of lyrics, Gabe suddenly grabbed my hand and twirled me on the floor. I was stunned, but not stunned enough to miss the appalled and jealous look from one of the nieces. As the chorus hit again, Brock wrested me away from Gabe, but did not twirl me away from his body. He tugged on my finger tips and pulled me in toward himself in a spiral type of move that left his beefy arm wrapped around my shoulders.
I wasn’t there long, but he still managed to say to me, “He deserves another shot, Lorraine.”
Then I was spiraling out of his hold to see the other niece jealously looking at me with her mouth agape. I was so focused on their jealous stares that I didn’t realize Vamp had moved in front of me. His hands settled firmly on my hips and I was left with nowhere to put my hands except his shoulders or around his neck. I opted for his shoulders. By now the singer was urgently pleading his case about the sexy thing being an answer to his prayers.
At that point, Vamp’s hands moved from my hips and settled on my ass. He had hauled my body flush with his and he said in my ear, “This is my answer to suffering. I believe in miracles, and I know it was a damn miracle that I ran into you not once, but twice, in the span of four weeks.”
See. Backfired, completely and thoroughly. Why did I bother? He trumped me on the music front. When the singer started demanding his sexy thing kiss him, Vamp didn’t sing. He tilted my chin up, and he kissed me hard. The kiss was harder than the kiss on the restaurant patio, and my left hand went up to cup the back of his smooth head. I wanted to throw myself into this kiss, but then I realized we were probably putting on quite a show.
I managed to pull away, but only slightly. “You’re relentless.”
“And proud of it, doll.”
An upbeat pop song started and Vamp was gyrating his hips with the music, but I backed away and turned to go to the bar.
Vamp hooked me from behind, and said into my ear, “You used to like to dance with me.”
“I love to dance, but I don’t like to dance with you because you show me up.”
Brock stepped in front of me and pulled me away from Vamp. He was dancing to the frenetic beat, but his moves were not quite as slick as Vamp’s. For whatever reason, I felt better matched dancing with Brock to pop music.
As we were dancing together, Brock asked me, “You’re not fucking with him are you? He’s got it bad for you. Always has.”
Ok, I understood Mr. Sullivan giving me the goods on Vamp’s suffering in an effort to help me see that he’s likely remorseful about our ending, but this was out of line.
“Excuse me? He’s the one who fucked me over six years ago.”
Brock gave me a marginal chin-lift, but said, “And when he ran into you back in April, we thought it would gut him.”
I felt bad to hear that, but I said, “I didn’t do that to him.”
“We know you’re a great chick. Don’t gut him, ok?”
I couldn’t speak, I just pressed my lips together and gave a small nod.
CHAPTER 11
Being on the dance floor, I had lost track of time, but I knew the Sullivan brothers and I had danced straight through at least five songs, non-stop. Then someone requested a country song, and we all went to the bar. The guys got beers, and I opted for a club soda with lime. We were all glistening with a thin layer of sweat, so we took our beverages out to the patio area. The patio wrapped around the entirety of the restaurant and overlooked the inlet where boats were docked. We were headed toward a table when we heard female voices. I didn’t need to see the women to know it was the two nieces speaking.
“I can’t believe they all three danced with her, and they pointed at her whenever the song said ‘You sexy thing!’”
Well, I knew that Vamp had pointed at me a time or two, but I didn’t realize his brothers had been in on it. I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks again, because that was really very sweet of them.
Ignorant of our presence behind them, the other niece said, “It must be her whole damsel-in-distress vibe. Maybe I need to get punched in the face so they pay attention to me.”
The other woman shrugged one shoulder. “I dunno. And then she and the older brother going at it like the freaks that they are! And in the middle of the dance floor! Who does that?”
Fury was oozing from Gabe and Brock. I was going to put a hand on Brock’s shoulder, but I was too late; he suddenly stepped up behind them.
“It’s one thing to badmouth my brother in the restroom like the cowards you are, but I’ll be damned if you badmouth one of the best women we know.”
Both nieces had turned to Brock, and their brown eyes were fearful in the dim lighting on the patio.
“Well –” one of them tried to speak.
Brock cut her off, “Shut the fuck up! It’s a cryin’ shame the world isn’t full of more Lorraines. Instead, there’s two bitches like you for every one of her. Fucked-up ratio if ever there was one.”
I jumped a little when I heard Warren’s voice behind us, “Ok, Brock. You’ve made your point. Ladies, I think you might want to go home now. Rest up for the big day tomorrow.”
I turned to look at Warren, and Marnie was standing right next to him.
“There’s no ‘might’ about that. Go. Now. I didn’t think I could be any more embarrassed than I was in the bathroom earlier, but you girls are really shameful tonight.”
Both women opened their mouths to speak but couldn’t seem to form any words, so they just grabbed their wristlet purses from the banister overlooking the water and slunk away to the parking lot. Silence was beginning to settle around us, but before it could make any of us uncomfortable Vamp broke it.
“Thanks, Bro. I couldn’t have said any of that better myself,” he said, as he patted Brock’s broad shoulder.
Marnie mumbled, “A little harsh, but…”
To my surprise, Gabe said, “Actually, not harsh enough, I’d say.”
“Enough, my boys. Are you all done dancing? Need to know soon, otherwise I’ll have to pay for another hour of the DJ’s time.”
A huge yawn stole over me, which was not missed by Vamp. “Frankie and I are done, Pop.”
“‘Frankie’?” Warren asked.
“That’s me, sir,” I said with a smile.
“Why on earth wouldn’t you go by ‘Lorraine’, dear? It’s such a pretty name,” Marnie remarked.
“Long story,” I mumbled.
“Well, I want all of you to come back inside for one more song.”
“Dad, are you stayin’ at your place tonight?” Vamp changed the subject.
“Where else would I go, boy?”
Gabe chuckled, but said, “Marnie’s sweet crib.”
Marnie gave Gabe a stern look, “That’s all the way over in Maitland. Not in the cards tonight.”
“Back to the matter at hand. Cary, are you asking because you want to bring Lorraine home with you?” Warren asked.
So, that’s where that conversation was heading. Nope, I was not staying with the Sullivans. No way, no how.
“Sorry, but no. I’m not coming with him; I’ll be in a hotel tonight.”
Vamp’s chin dipped low and his head tilted slightly. “How you gettin’ to this hotel, Frankie?”
My wine-addled brain had not gotten that far, but then I blurted, “I’ll call an Uber. Don’t mind me, spend time with your brothers.”
I thought I heard Vamp growl at me, but Warren took my hand and led me and Marnie back into the restaurant. The three Sullivan sons followed close behind us.
As we were walking, Warren said loudly, “You two can sort your sleeping arrangements later. And by later, I mean that Marnie and I need a ninety-minute head start, at a minimum.”
He might not have been my father, but I had a hard time not wresting my left hand away from Warren while simultaneously squealing “Eww!” You know you secretly love it because it means Vamp will still have a healthy libido twenty years from now. Where were these damn thoughts coming from? I needed divine intervention, or perhaps the infamous Scotty from Star Trek to beam me up. Once inside, Warren dropped my hand and led Marnie over to the DJ.
With the microphone in hand, Warren announced, “We’re going to wrap things up here in about thirty minutes. However, I want to take the time right now to say how pleasantly surprised I am at how this evening has gone. Life is like wind in the air much of the time. It can be fleeting. It can be gusty, but most of the time it’s gentle and easy. Best of all, wind often brings things to you, and I will never forget the day life brought Marnie Tinsdale into my life.”
