Hanging by a Thread

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Hanging by a Thread Page 31

by Karen Templeton


  “Well, hey, it was terrific running into you,” I say, dragging my poor child through the throng and away from all the hovering questions, “but I’m afraid we’ve got to run—”

  “Ellie! Wait!”

  Alan stumbles through the revolving door and outside right along with us. I could make a run for it, I suppose, but Starr and I barely have one decent set of legs between us. So I blow out a resigned breath and squint up into a face creased with concern. A face obviously wrestling with how to ask those questions, since the object of the questions is standing right beside me with, I imagine, a few of her own.

  “Daniel doesn’t know, does he?”

  “Who’s Daniel?” Starr says.

  I sigh. Remember what I said about wanting to forget my twenty-second year? Well, lemme tell ya—my twenty-eighth ain’t exactly shaping up to be any great shakes, either.

  “We were on our way to the zoo,” I say. “Care to join us?”

  On a Monday afternoon in early summer, the zoo is crowded enough to muffle our conversation, but not so crowded that I have to worry about letting Starr skip ahead a few feet in front of us so Alan and I can talk. Would, however, that that was the only thing I was worried about. Aside from the still very real threat of the reappearing hot dog, I’m having the strangest reaction to Alan’s cologne. As in, it’s turning me inside out. That isn’t supposed to happen.

  Is it?

  Well, I’ll have to get back to myself on that one, since I’ve got just a few more pressing issues to deal with right now. We hit the sea lion exhibit right at feeding time; Starr’s right up at the glass, but Alan and I hang back to continue our conversation. I’ve told him a truncated version of the truth, glossing over the bits that make me sound like a slut. Alan’s listened thoughtfully, only occasionally interrupting for clarification. Now he says, kindness oozing from his pores, “And you’ve been beating yourself up over this ever since, haven’t you?”

  “Wasn’t exactly my finest hour. Or, in this case, forty-eight hours.”

  He shifts his bag on his shoulder and shrugs. “Everybody fucks up, Ellie.” From his lips, the word sounds elegant. “But you’re hardly the first person to—” he lowers his voice “—use sex as a therapeutic after being hurt by someone.”

  By all rights, this conversation should be embarrassing the hell out of me. But when I force myself to look up at Alan, I see such openness there—a quality I now realize I never saw in his brother’s eyes—that embarrassment doesn’t even get a toehold. Now he frowns at Starr, his arms crossed. “But are you sure she’s not Daniel’s? She looks uncannily like he did at that age. The hair—”

  “My father’s mother had hair just like that. So it could easily have come from my side.”

  “And her eyes—”

  “We all have—had—brown eyes.” I feel a blush coming on. “I know what you’re getting at. But it just doesn’t seem very likely that Daniel’s her father.”

  After a moment, Alan says, “If you’d known for sure that Starr was Daniel’s, would you have told him?”

  “Even if I’d had a clue how to contact him? What would have been the point? Especially as he wasn’t exactly loyal to the kid he did have, was he? Sorry, not really somebody I’d want my child to call Daddy.”

  Alan seems to consider my words before saying, “When we all met up that day in the museum, I hadn’t seen Daniel for several months. He told me he was separated from Caroline, and since I knew they’d been having problems, I saw no reason not to believe him. Only then I ran into her when I got back and quickly realized he’d been lying.”

  “And you didn’t say anything? About me, I mean?”

  “Good God, no. Car’s a wonderful girl. I wouldn’t hurt her for the world. I did, however, read my good-for-nothing brother the riot act when I next spoke with him.”

  “And he said?”

  “To bugger off.” I can sense there’s more; I give him room to finish. “Especially as he’d already…indicated that it would end soon enough, not to make a big deal out of nothing.” He glances over. “Sorry. I’ve never been much good at soft-pedaling.”

  I actually laugh. “It’s been more than five years, I think I can handle it. Besides, it’s nothing I hadn’t already figured out. Even then.” One of the sea lions comes right up to the glass where Starr’s standing; she laughs and turns around.

  “Look, Mama! Did you see that?”

  “Sure did, Twink!”

  Beside me, Alan says, “She’s a great kid.”

  “If she’s a kid at all.” At his puzzled look, I add, “Let’s just say she’s not…typical.”

  “Who is?”

  I chuckle, then ask, “Are they still together?”

  “My brother and Caroline?” Alan shakes his head. “As it happens, you weren’t the only one.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  The dimples—deep, sexy creases, actually, in slightly beard-hazed cheeks—pop out. “Car’s not the long-suffering type, I’m afraid.”

  “No, I wouldn’t think so from the one time we talked.” The shopping bag strings are cutting into my palm; I switch hands, then say, “This may sound nuts, but I feel a lot worse for her than I did for me.”

  “Then you’ll be glad to know she’s happily remarried with another baby on the way.”

  “She is? Well, go, Caroline!” I shield my eyes from the sun with my hand. “And…your brother?”

  “Off being a photojournalist somewhere. I suppose. Actually, no one’s heard from him in more than three years.”

  “He doesn’t even contact his son?”

  “No.”

  “Well, that certainly gives me one less thing to feel guilty about. That’s really crappy for his kid, though.”

  “It was, until Car met Timothy. Her new husband is crazy about the boy.”

  “That’s good.” Then I blow a stream of air through my lips. “I was twenty-two, Alan. Right out of school. Your brother was…my first serious relationship. At least, I thought so at the time. Looking back, though…it’s not that I wasn’t hurt when I found out he was married, but I think it was more that I was angry with myself for being so stupid.”

  “You can’t blame yourself for his dishonesty, Ellie.”

  A moment passes before I say, “But I haven’t exactly been honest, either.”

  “With this other bloke, you mean?”

  “No, he’s always known there’s a strong possibility Starr’s his. But…” I wait out the pang I’ve been trying, with little success, to dodge ever since Heather’s wedding, that I haven’t heard from Luke. I explain about Tina and the timing and how neither of us wanted to hurt her. Alan says, “I see,” in that way people do when they don’t see at all. Not that I blame him. It barely makes sense to me, and I’ve been living in the middle of this mess for six years.

  “But now you’re planning on finding out for sure?”

  “Yes. Very soon, in fact. And we’ve both confessed to Tina.”

  “A little air-clearing?”

  I nod.

  We back up to let a herd of strollers pass. Then Alan says, “When you find out…I’d like to be kept in the loop.”

  I look up, my stomach bebopping again at the expression in his eyes, the set to his mouth. Alan’s not handsome in any classic sense, but everything just…works, somehow.

  “You didn’t even know Starr existed a half hour ago.”

  “True. But…” He glances over at her once again, then back at me. “If she’s my niece, I’d like to know. That’s all.”

  I break eye contact, calling Starr to come on.

  “But what I don’t understand,” Alan says softly as we continue, “is why you’ve put this off for so long. Surely you must realize how much harder it’s going to be on Starr, the longer you wait.”

  “Of course I realize how hard this is going to be, I’m not a total idiot!” I’ve stopped, making him turn back to face me. “But you weren’t there, and none of this was your decision to make
. So I’d appreciate not being judged for something about which you basically know squat.”

  “You tell ’im, girlfriend,” some woman says as she passes.

  Alan and I face off for a few seconds, during which the signals inside my brain go totally kerflooey. No doubt about it, the man gets my juices going. Only thing is, I can’t tell if it’s because he turns me on or pisses me off. Neither of which I need in my life right now.

  At last Alan pushes out a breath. “I apologize. You’re absolutely right, I’ve got no business badgering you about this.” Then he gives me this little sideways look, accompanied by a half grin. “At least not until I get to know you better—”

  What?

  “—but I’ve hit on a sore point, haven’t I?”

  I let out a sigh of my own. The man is hopeless.

  “No. Maybe. Oh, hell, I don’t know anymore. I just kept thinking…if by some chance it is your brother, what if Starr decides to look him up one day, and he rejects her?”

  “You don’t know that.” At my snort, he adds, “Stranger things have happened, Ellie.”

  “Right. And somewhere, somebody still thinks he can turn iron into gold.”

  Another grin slides in my direction, followed by, “And if it is this other man?”

  “Jesus, Alan…I don’t know!” I rummage in my purse and find a 3 Musketeers miniature, which I frantically unwrap and cram into my mouth. “I’m kind of a one-step-at-a-time chick, okay? First we get the results. Then we figure out what to do with them. And pray I haven’t scarred my kid for life. You think I don’t worry about this? Criminy—what if she never trusts me again? What if this in some way warps her relationships with men?”

  Alan gives me a strange look.

  “So maybe that last part’s a little far-fetched.”

  “Just a little. My God—how do you sleep at night?”

  “I don’t. Next question?”

  We’ve left the main zoo and are standing out by the glockenspiel, waiting for the hour to strike. I’ve tried to impart to Starr how great this is gonna be, but I can tell she’s not real impressed.

  “Are you still in touch with…what the bloody hell is his name, anyway?”

  “Luke?” My stomach feels like it used to after eating my grandmother’s matzoh balls. “Yeah, we’ve known each other our whole lives.”

  “And…Tina?”

  “We were all best friends,” I say quietly.

  “Were?”

  “Things aren’t the same as they used to be. And I’d appreciate it if you’d let it go at that.”

  “I understand.”

  Again, I doubt it. But as long as he doesn’t try to root around in my brain for a more substantive answer, I’m good.

  The clock chimes two; the animals begin their measured, dignified dance around the base. I look over; Starr’s standing with her arms crossed and her head tilted to one side. Taking it in but not reacting. Figures. Afterwards, she wends her way back through the crowd and slips her hand into mine.

  “I’m exhausted. I tell you, my legs feel like they’re gonna give right out from under me.”

  Alan chuckles, then offers her a piggyback ride.

  “Oh, God,” she says, “I would kill for a piggyback ride.”

  That gets a roar of laughter from Alan. And a great sigh from me.

  We pass an ice-cream cart; Starr tosses me a hopeful look. She’s not a whiny child, doesn’t beg for everything she sees. But she’s always had this uncanny sixth sense for knowing when I’m in pushover mode. I say okay, she picks this godawful blue…thing. When I go to pay, however—I do not want to even think about what this is going to do to her intestines— Alan shoves a five-dollar bill at the vendor before I can even get my wallet out of my bag.

  One arm wrapped around the man’s neck, Starr looks over at me and gives me a thumbs-up.

  “So,” Alan says when we get going again. “I take it you’re on your own then? With…” He angles his head back slightly to indicate Starr, who’s about to garnish his hair with sticky, bright blue highlights.

  “More or less. Although my sister’s living with us at the moment. And we were living with my grandfather until a few months ago.”

  “Were?”

  “He passed away in March,” I say carefully, trying not to disturb the ache in my chest. Wrong.

  “I’m sorry,” Alan says, and I nod.

  “But there’s Frances and them,” Starr puts in. “And Luke. An’ Dolly. So we’ve got people coming out of our ears.” She takes a big lick of her treat, then sticks out her tongue, crossing her eyes trying to see it. “Is it blue?”

  “Like the Mediterranean,” I say. “You rule, little girl.”

  That gets a huge, blue-tinged grin.

  “So, Starr,” Alan asks, tilting his head back. “You and Luke are friends?”

  I’d give him a dirty look, but he can’t see me.

  “Totally,” Starr says around her last bite. “C’n I get down now? I’m done.”

  “How about a somersault dismount?” Alan asks.

  “Cool!”

  My heart stops while Alan grabs her around the waist, then flips her over his head and onto her feet. Starr wobbles for a second, then hikes over to the nearest trash can to dump her denuded ice-cream stick.

  Alan gives me a considering look. “So…are you okay? Moneywise, I mean. Just because my brother’s a jerk doesn’t mean I couldn’t help out if you need—”

  “We’re fine,” I say, too quickly, stunned by his willingness to take responsibility for something that has nothing to do with him, as Starr plays imaginary hopscotch on her way back to us. We’ve come out of the park at 59th Street, across from the Plaza. Alan reaches inside his shirt pocket and pulls out a slim wallet, from which he extracts a business card. “I’m here for at least six weeks. My cell number’s on the card. And why don’t you give me yours?”

  I stare at it dumbly, like some time traveler who has no idea what the heck is going on.

  “Um…so you can reach me when you find out?”

  “Oh! Right.”

  As I give him my number in return, it dimly registers that we’ve stopped at the Plaza because this is where he’s staying. A horse-and-carriage drops off a couple in front of the hotel; Starr is now transfixed by the horse, a dapple gray with plastic daisies threaded through its bridle.

  “Ellie?”

  My gaze snaps back to Alan’s. Who’s got this funny, do-I-dare-ask-this? look on his face. He laughs, a little nervously, then says, “You’re undoubtedly going to think I’m totally daft, but…will you have dinner with me sometime?”

  “What?”

  Oh, yeah, Miss Cool, that’s me.

  This time, his laugh is full and rich and my toes are tingling and I’m thinking there is no way this man is Daniel’s brother. “I thought I’d asked you out?” One dimple plays peek-a-boo with me. “I mean, it’s been a while, but I didn’t think the modus operandi had changed that much—”

  “No, no, it’s not that, it’s…”

  “It’s what?” he prompts when speech fails me.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “I’m sorry…did I misunderstand? I didn’t get the feeling there was anything between you and this Luke person, really….”

  “There isn’t,” I say so quickly I startle myself. Well, there isn’t, is there? And I doubt there ever will be, Tina or no Tina. If I’m going to turn over this new leaf about facing reality, then it’s high time I do just that and get on with my life.

  Luke Scardinare will never be more to me than he’s ever been.

  And this torch I’m not carrying is about to break my back.

  “We’re just friends,” I say. With conviction, even. “But why…I mean, I don’t get…” I huff out a sigh. “Look, if this is because you might be Starr’s uncle—”

  “No, Ellie, it’s not that. I swear.” As I stand there, trying to process all of this, he says, “I know this is rather bizarre, our meeting by chance and y
our having been…involved with Daniel and all that, but I could spend the next six months thinking about the propriety of it all before asking you out, by which time you will have moved on—”

  Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.

  “—and I would have lost out. And then I’d be miserable because I’d prevaricated about something I’m not going to feel any differently about then than I do right now. And I don’t much like being miserable, actually. I mean, unless you don’t want to go out with me, in which case I can find out now and get the misery over with, instead of worrying about it for another six months.”

  I laugh. “You’re crazy.”

  Alan’s grin warms me all the way to my…never mind. “So I’ve been told.” Then he lifts his hand to brush a strand of hair off my cheek, and I can hardly breathe. Speaking of crazy. “The older I get, the faster time seems to go. And the more I’m inclined to act on my impulses. My half brother was a fool—”

  Half brother! I knew it!

  “—but he’s always had excellent taste in women.” His shoulders rise, then fall. “I like you. In fact, I was intrigued by you that first time we met. I thought then I’d like to get to know you better. But I never dreamed I’d get that chance.” He frowns for a moment, then nods and says, “Yes, I think that pretty much covers it, don’t you?”

  Covers it? My poor bedraggled ego is stretching her achy limbs and positively bathing in it.

  “So…is tomorrow evening too short a notice to get a baby-sitter?”

  “Uh—”

  “Never mind,” he says, and I think, well, hell—so much for that. Only then he says, “I’ll give you a call later. If a baby-sitter’s a problem, we’ll just plan something to include Starr, that’s all.” Then he offers me a chagrined smile. “Sorry. You haven’t exactly said yes yet, have you?”

  “I’d love to go out with you,” I say, and his whole face lights up. Then he checks his watch and lets out, “Damn, I had no idea it was so late. Look,” he says, “I’m terribly sorry to leave you like this, but I’ve got a three o’clock meeting at the Winter Garden with my director, and I’ve still got one sketch to finish up—”

 

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