Dance of Temptation

by Janice Sims

  Ana, looking fresh in skinny blue jeans, a short-sleeve cashmere sweater in a deep shade of purple and black designer boots, sat down and Belana poured her a cup of tea.

  “How was your trip?” Belana asked.

  Ana smiled and said, “Erik kept me laughing all the way here.” Although her English was very good, Ana still had a faint Italian accent and it got thicker when she was upset. She was upset, and Belana’s curiosity was piqued. What could have happened on the drive here to upset her? Had Erik broached the subject of pursuing a romantic relationship with her again? No, Erik wasn’t that insensitive. Then what was wrong?

  By this time, Drusilla had fallen asleep in her comfortable overstuffed chair. She often took catnaps during the day. When she awakened, she would swear she had not been sleeping, only resting her eyes.

  “What’s the matter?” Belana asked Ana.

  Ana looked her in the eyes. “Jack,” she said as a little moan escaped. “I read on AOL this morning that he married the girl he left me for.”

  Belana cursed her aversion to the internet. If she checked her emails more often she would have seen the article and been prepared for this.

  “That bastard,” she said under her breath.

  “Yes,” Ana said, “he is. He told me he wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment. Well, maybe not with me, but he was ready for one with her?” She wiped the corners of her eyes with one of the cloth napkins from the tea tray. Looking appealingly at Belana, she asked, “What has she got that I haven’t?”

  The age-old question, Belana thought. Women have been wondering that for as long as men have been throwing them over for another woman. The fault, Belana believed, didn’t lie with the women but the men. They had played with that toy long enough. They had gotten bored and wanted another one to play with. “In the state of mind you’re in right now, you might not believe this,” Belana said, “but there’s nothing at all wrong with you, Ana. Jack’s the one. He’s an asshole. Unfortunately, some men are born assholes. I used to think it was a tendency that they could grow out of, the assholes, I mean, but they never outgrow it. Now, one day you will fall in love with a man who isn’t one and you’ll learn the difference. That man would never hurt you. He’ll cherish you. And thank God he found you.”

  “Amen to that!” Drusilla said, sitting up in her chair. She yawned. “Was I sleeping?”

  “No,” said Belana, straight-faced. “You were just resting your eyes.”

  Drusilla laughed. “Jack Russo wasn’t good enough for you,” she told Ana.

  “Grandma, you follow the tabloids?” asked Belana incredulously.

  “He’s moderately good-looking,” was Drusilla’s considered opinion. At eighty she had seen a lot of men come and go. “But his fame relies on his physical appearance. He can’t act his way out of a paper bag.” She reached for Ana’s hand and Ana gave it to her. “You, my dear girl, are not a flash in the pan. His light is going out while yours will shine brightly for many years to come. So, I don’t want to see you moping over such a fool.”

  Ana sat up straighter and smiled, feeling better. “You’re right, Mrs. Whitaker, I need to quit being such a crybaby. He doesn’t deserve my tears.”

  “The best revenge, and who doesn’t love a little revenge, is living well,” Drusilla told her. “That’s not just an old adage, it’s true. Live your life to the fullest, child, and you’ll be ready for love when it comes along.”

  Ana was nodding as though she were seated at the feet of a guru and benefiting from her wisdom. Belana smiled to herself: her grandmother, the sage.

  Ana cleared her throat. “Umm, Mrs. Whitaker, I know we’ve just met but I would love to sketch you. I’m an amateur artist and I love drawing people with interesting faces. It won’t take long, I promise.”

  “Amateur?” Belana cried. “Grandma, she should be showing at the best galleries in New York City!”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” said Ana modestly.

  Belana almost laughed when her grandmother preened and said in as nonchalant a tone as she could muster, “If you really want to, dear. I’ve got nothing but time.”

  Ana immediately went into her voluminous bag and retrieved a large sketch pad and charcoal pencils. She smiled warmly at Drusilla. “Thank you,” she said gratefully.

  Dinner was held in the formal dining room. Dressing up wasn’t required and the atmosphere was relaxed. John carved the turkey and the ham, and the rest of the dishes were brought to the table by Naomi and Penny, after which the diners served themselves.

  John sat at one end of the long table and his mother at the other. Next to John was Isobel. Drusilla, who’d taken a liking to Nick upon meeting him, had asked him to sit next to her. Belana made sure she was sitting on Nick’s other side to keep an ear open for Drusilla’s tendency to ask too many personal questions. Drusilla felt that with age came privilege and the greatest privilege of all was saying exactly what was on her mind without editing it. On opposite sides of the table sat Ana and Erik and Yvonne and Nona.

  “You must get your height from your father,” Drusilla said to Nick soon after the blessing had been said.

  “There are tall people on both sides of the family,” Nick said. He smiled in his mother’s direction. “Mom says she drew the short straw.”

  “I know how she feels,” said Drusilla. “I always wanted to be around five-eight or nine, but I stopped growing at five-two and I think I’ve shrunk over the years.”

  I knew it! Belana thought.

  “I would have been taller but I had rickets when I was a child and that stunted my growth,” Drusilla continued. “Have you ever heard of rickets?”

  “It’s a bone disease, isn’t it?” Nick asked.

  “Yes, caused by calcium deficiency and Vitamin D deficiency,” Drusilla confirmed. “I was lucky, they caught it in time and I wasn’t left with deformed bones, but my growth was severely stunted. All of my brothers and sisters were much taller. So, ironically, John gets his height from my side of the family. His own father was only five-eight, but that was tall enough for me.”

  Nick had gotten comfortable with Drusilla. He found her to be very sweet and charming. He even thought she might be flirting with him, unless she had something in her eye. She’d winked at him several times since they’d met.

  “So,” said Drusilla, “I can see from looking at your lovely daughter that you’re capable of fathering beautiful children. Do you look forward to having more? Perhaps two or three?”

  “Grandma,” exclaimed Belana. “You’ve just met Nick. Do you think that’s an appropriate question to ask?”

  Belana looked at Nick. He was smiling as if her grandmother’s question hadn’t embarrassed him in the least. In fact, he appeared as though he was having a hard time containing his laughter.

  “I’m sorry,” Drusilla said to Nick, smiling. “It’s just that I’m eighty years old and an old person needs something to look forward to. It’s what gets us out of bed each morning, the prospect of something new happening in our lives.”

  “I understand,” Nick assured her, taking her small hand in his. “And the answer is yes, I would like more children someday, with the right woman.”

  Drusilla smiled in Belana’s direction. Belana blushed. She was glad Nick was being so patient with her outspoken grandmother. However, she knew what her grandmother would say to her once she had her alone. “I don’t have time to be pussyfooting around with you and Erik dragging your feet when it comes to giving me a great-grandchild. You’re both way overdue. Marry that boy and give me a great-grandchild!” She was getting feisty in her old age.

  “That’s nice to know,” Drusilla said to Nick in her sweetest tones. “Now, I’ll let you eat your dinner and quit asking nosy questions. My granddaughter’s shooting daggers at me with her eyes.”

  “Behave!” Belana gently admonished her grandmother.

  Drusilla laughed and picked up her knife and fork to cut off a sliver of Virginia ham and put it in her mou
th. “Mmm, that’s delicious.”

  Belana mirrored her grandmother’s actions and tasted the ham, too. “Yes, it’s very tasty.”

  Drusilla put down her utensils and said, “I hate polite conversation.” She looked at Nick pointedly. “This right woman that you mentioned, could she be my granddaughter, perhaps?”

  Nick did laugh this time. “The one and the only,” he said.

  “Good,” said Drusilla, “because you would make beautiful children together.”

  Nona, on the other end of the table, heard the word “children,” and her ears perked up. What were they saying about children? Was Belana going to have a baby? Her heart started beating rapidly. She was nearly sixteen. She definitely didn’t want to be the sister of a…baby! It would be beyond embarrassing explaining that the baby in the stroller at the park was her little sister or little brother. Couldn’t adults date without making other kids? It was ridiculous. Then she caught herself before she blew a fuse. She could be panicking for no reason. Just because they were talking about children didn’t mean Belana was pregnant. Of course Belana wasn’t pregnant! She was getting ready to dance the role of a lifetime. No self-respecting ballerina would give up the chance to be Titania! She most definitely wouldn’t if she were in Belana’s place.

  Yvonne, seeing the look of consternation on her granddaughter’s face, asked, “Is something the matter?”

  “No,” Nona said quickly. “This food is so good, I’m just eating too fast, I think.”

  “Then slow down,” said Momma Yvonne, “or you’ll get indigestion.”

  Back at Belana’s end of the table, Nick was saying, “I love your granddaughter, Mrs. Whitaker, and I’m sure that when we decide to take our relationship to another level, you will be among the first we share the news with.”

  Drusilla smiled at Belana. “He said he loves you.”

  “I heard him.”

  “Do you love him, too?”

  Belana smiled at Nick. “Yes, I love him with all my heart.”

  To her utter astonishment, her grandmother started crying. Belana was so stunned she shot up, nearly toppling her chair, which she had to right before it crashed to the floor. “Grandma, are you all right?”

  Drusilla waved her granddaughter back down. “I’m okay. It’s just that I never thought I’d hear you say those words.” She smiled at Nick. “You must be very special, Nicolas Reed.”

  Nick was touched. He gently clasped her hand in his again. “Not special,” he said. “But very lucky.”

  “You have my permission to marry my granddaughter,” Drusilla said. “Not right away, of course. But whenever you two decide the time is right. I’m giving my blessings now because the Grim Reaper has my address. He’s just having a hard time finding it. He could get smarter any day now.”

  “Stop trying to manipulate us by throwing out the death card,” Belana said, laughing. “Really, Grandma, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

  “At my age,” said Drusilla, “it’s not easy to be shamed. I’ve seen just about everything and nothing surprises me anymore. I know what’s important and what isn’t. Nobody’s going to say I wish I had procrastinated a little longer when they’re knocking at St. Peter’s gate. They’re going to say, I wish I had gone ahead and done this or done that! What a coward I was, not taking more risks.”

  Belana didn’t comment on that because her grandmother was right. She had nearly lost Nick forever because she had been a coward and been unwilling to risk her feelings and confess that she had been wrong. They had wasted eight months because of her cowardice.

  She squeezed her grandmother’s hand. “You’re right.”

  “I know I’m right,” said Drusilla. “Now, eat.”

  After dinner, the men went into the library where they gathered around the big-screen TV to watch football, a Thanksgiving tradition, and the women went downstairs to the home theater to put on a film. Belana and Nona went through the DVD collection and wound up choosing For the Love of Ivy starring Sidney Poitier and Abby Lincoln. “I’ve never seen anything with Abby Lincoln in it,” said Nona. She was into classic movies, though, and enjoyed discovering a new one. Her grandmother had weaned her on the classics like To Kill a Mockingbird, Imitation of Life, and In the Heat of the Night.

  By the middle of the film, Drusilla announced it was past her bedtime and asked Belana to accompany her upstairs.

  They met Erik on the stairs. “Erik,” Drusilla said in her commanding way, “I like Ana Corelli. I think you like her, too. Do something about it.”

  Erik looked accusingly at Belana. “Did you tell her?”

  “No,” Belana cried. “I swear I haven’t mentioned a thing to this witchy woman.”

  Drusilla laughed. “You children are so naive. Nothing escapes me. When I stop noticing things like that it’ll be time to put me away.”

  “We’re never going to put you away,” Belana assured her as they continued upstairs. Erik turned around, deciding to help Belana tuck their grandmother in.

  “Never,” he agreed. “Nobody would take you.”

  This made Drusilla laugh harder.

  Later that night after everyone had gone to bed, Belana sneaked across the hall to Nick’s room and tapped lightly on the door. He cracked it, and she slipped inside.

  At once, they were in one another’s arms, kissing hungrily. Nick wore pajamas. It was a cold night. But he usually slept only in pajama bottoms or nothing at all. Belana was in a short, white silken nightgown with spaghetti straps. It shimmered in the dim lighting of the bedroom. “You’ve got to go,” Nick said, surprising Belana. She could tell by the bulge in his pajama bottoms that he really wanted her to stay.

  She kissed him again, this time ending with his lower lip between her teeth. That usually drove him crazy. He’d end up kissing her breath away. This time, however, he set her away from him. “I’m serious,” he said. “I can’t do it in your father’s house.”

  Belana smiled and let go of him. “I understand. I’ve never done it with my family under the same roof, either. Then again, I’ve never brought the man I love home.”

  She watched his face. She knew he was at war with his conscience. She turned and walked back to the door. “All right, good night.”

  “Belana, I love you,” Nick said, going to her and taking her by the shoulders. “But I don’t think it would go over well with your family if they found I’d made love to you while we were here.”

  “They know we’re making love, Nick.”

  “Yeah, but what kind of man would I be if I couldn’t control my libido for an overnight stay in your father’s house? This is important to me.”

  “Can I get another kiss?”

  He kissed her on the forehead and let go of her. Belana backed away. “By the way, I apologize for my grandmother. She takes a little getting used to.”

  Nick smiled. “She’s wonderful. She was only saying what was on everybody’s mind, anyway. I like her honesty.”

  “And she was flirting with you all night,” Belana said with a laugh. “Then she was winking at me!” Nick said. “I wondered if something was wrong with her eye or she was actually winking at me.”

  “Oh, she’s a big flirt. She loves handsome men.” She walked up and quickly kissed him on that dimple in his chin. “I’m going now.”

  Nick smiled ruefully. “Tomorrow night?”

  “Is Nona staying with your mother for the weekend?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, then tomorrow night. I have a problem doing it with her in the house. Here? We’re way down at the other end of the house. She wouldn’t hear us. There, she’s right next door.”

  “The logistics of this relationship could get hairy,” Nick agreed.

  “We can’t get into that right now,” Belana told him. “I want you too much. I’ve got to go.” With that, she left, closing the door firmly behind her.

  Nick reached for the doorknob, but allowed his hand to fall to his side. It was best to practice abstinen
ce while here. He turned and walked over to the bed where he climbed in and switched off the nightstand light. Sighing when his head hit the pillow, he wondered if Belana would leave her door unlocked for him tonight should he change his mind.

  Belana returned to her bedroom and closed the door, leaving it unlocked. She got into bed and picked up her cell phone which had been charging on the nightstand. Going through the messages, she saw one from Patrice and listened closely.

  “Hey, girl, hope you’re having a great Thanksgiving in Connecticut. Isn’t it supposed to be Christmas in Connecticut? T.K. and I are in Albuquerque. His family came with us this time. We’ll spend Christmas at his parents’ house in L.A. Yes, we will fly out to see your debut as Titania in early December. By that time I might be looking a bit rounder. Bye now, love you much!”

  Belana screamed with delight and her fingers flew over the keys, punching in Patrice’s cell phone number.

  Patrice answered on the second ring. “Howdy!”

  “Howdy?” Belana cried. “Two minutes in New Mexico and you revert to your cowboy slang?” she screamed in Patrice’s ear. “You’re pregnant. That means you were probably pregnant when we were on Mykonos.”

  “I was,” Patrice confirmed, sounding very happy about it. “There I was, talking about my five-year plan, and I already had a bun in the oven. T.K. is on cloud nine. Seriously, I’ve never seen him grin so much.”

  “It’s wonderful news,” Belana said. “I couldn’t be happier for you.” Her tone more serious, she asked, “How are you feeling about it?”

  “I’m in a place of peace,” said Patrice. Belana could hear the smile in her voice. “I was shocked, of course, because I thought we were doing everything to prevent a pregnancy. We obviously slipped up.”

  “It’s what Elle was talking about,” Belana said. “Remember? She said most pregnancies weren’t planned. You’re a statistic now, girlfriend.”

  Patrice laughed. “A happy statistic, that’s me.”

  “I hereby volunteer for babysitting duties whenever you need a break and our schedules allow,” Belana offered.