The Glazier family welcomed him and Eloise as if they’d been friends forever and nothing could be more normal than entertaining unexpected guests on Christmas day. He caught Penelope’s mother looking at him a few times and noticed how she watched Penelope carefully whenever she went near Eloise. He bet she didn’t miss a thing that went on in her house.
He considered his suspicions confirmed when she orchestrated an excuse for him to be alone with Penelope, asking them to retrieve some obscure bottle of liquor that she thought she last saw in the basement.
Penelope had barely closed the basement door when he pulled her in for a kiss, unable to resist any longer. Her soft lips yielded, inviting him to taste her mouth. Delicious, he thought. This is what I’ve craved all day, all week. Her fingers gripped his biceps, responding to his need with her own. He wanted to shuck his sweater. Hers as well. His fingers bumped the door, reminding him of the crowd on the other side of it. Slowly he released her. Her faint gasp of pleasure, warm against his jaw, encouraged him to kiss her again.
Resting his forehead against hers, he forced himself to avoid temptation yet again, otherwise, he wasn’t sure he could stop kissing her all over until she screamed his name as her body shook with joy.
“I hope you don’t mind us barging in.”
“Not at all. Actually, it gives me a chance to say thank you. That necklace is lovely. You shouldn’t — ”
He cut her off, pressing his finger to her lips. “I wanted to.” He studied her eyes. “But just so you know, that necklace is nowhere near as lovely as you.” Even in the dim light, he could see her cheeks flush.
• • •
“Let’s go.” She turned her back and led him down the stairs, past a bookshelf and toward a built-in bar.
She stepped behind the wood paneled bar, senses heightened to his close proximity. The man’s tendency to run hot or cold drove her crazy, and not in the good way. Yesterday, he’d been frosty. Today, smoldering. Ready to confront him about his erratic behavior, she wondered if today he came for a booty call.
“I liked that CD you made.” His husky voice made her insides as gooey as good caramel.
“Oh, good. I hoped you would.”
He leaned against the bar. “It clarified things for me.”
She laughed, hoping her nerves didn’t make her sound shrill. “Really? Usually skater music obscures the real world, or so Quinn says. I thought you might need an escape from your day-to-day.”
He faced the wall opposite the bar. The shelves housed trophies of various sorts and the mirrors behind them revealed their age through soft reflection and eroding silver. She wondered if he thought it was silly that her parents still displayed the trophies, medals, and certificates she and her siblings earned while in school.
“For a long time, I thought my ‘day-to-day’ was fine. I kept busy, but I wasn’t really an active participant. I muddled through. I lied to myself, telling myself I wasn’t lonely. I just wanted to avoid the hurt. But I also avoided living. The last few weeks have been different. My life is so much better with you in it.” His eyes met hers in the mirror’s reflection. “Why do you have to leave? We have something special here. Don’t you feel it, too?”
Noting the pained expression on his face, she began to understand his mixed emotions. In spite of his self preservation instincts, he had chosen today to reach out to her, revealing more of himself than he had that night in front of the fireplace.
Penelope walked around the bar to stand beside him.
“I do.” She ran her fingers into his hair as she nuzzled into his neck. “You’ve complicated my life. Before you and Eloise came into my life, it was all so clear. I come home, I recuperate, try teaching, and get back to work as soon as possible … wherever that job takes me. Now, for the first time I wonder if there might be more to life than performing — and that scares me.”
He lifted her chin. “So what are we going to do about this?”
“I don’t know.”
He released her, sighing as he sat on one of the black vinyl bar stools. She pulled over another stool and sat beside him, extending her legs onto his footrest, intertwining their legs. She liked touching him, his warmth seeping into her body.
“Are you still leaving?”
“I have to. Come January first, I no longer have a place to live. Even if my parents didn’t have new renters for their cottage apartment, I wouldn’t have money to pay the rent.”
“What about teaching the girls?”
“One class a week doesn’t pay much. I could move into my parents’ house again but … ” She trailed off. She didn’t want to derail this conversation. His honesty deserved hers.
“I don’t think I’m done yet.”
“With?”
“With performing, dancing.”
“So what does that mean? Spell it out for me.”
“It’s a lousy time for auditions right now. Nothing has panned out for me yet. But Orlando looks promising. If that doesn’t work out, maybe Felix Hart, that man I saw at the museum, knows someone. All I know is that I have to try now or I’ll always wonder.”
“And you’ll leave me and Eloise just like that?”
He pulled back, physically as well as emotionally. He straightened up, his legs tensing against hers. She struggled with how to proceed. She didn’t want to inflict further hurt on his damaged heart by leaving. She didn’t want to lose him, but they’d made no promises to each other. She refused to ask him to wait. That was selfish and silly. She hoped she could make him understand.
“I’ve danced professionally for a decade now. I’ve auditioned more times than I can count, but one of the early ones stands out against a sea of nearly empty auditoriums. I was seventeen, on a big audition, and for the first time, I didn’t make the cut.” She cringed at the memory of her own poor behavior afterwards, throwing a fit backstage and lashing out at her surroundings.
“Ranting, I was about to kick the wall when another dancer came over and pulled me away. I recognized her immediately. I’d seen her on stage when I was twelve. I idolized her. She took me out for a cup of coffee.
“There we sat, at opposite ends of the career spectrum, but she took me under her wing. She’d made the cut, but walked out of the audition. I asked her why and she said her heart told her it was time to step aside. She also told me she noticed my dancing and that I had a lot of potential — if I could channel my emotions. There would be too many times in my career where someone else chose if performed with his group or not. It’s the nature of the business. Getting upset gave someone else the power over me, over my career. To take control of my career, she advised listening to my heart. My heart says try. If I don’t follow it, I’m afraid I’ll fall back into blaming … others.
“It may be that my career is over. But I don’t know that for sure. If I try and fail, the burden is mine and mine alone. I’ll move back here, teach some dance classes, and go back to college. I’ll be disappointed that I couldn’t stage a come-back, but I’ll know I did all I could to make that dream a reality. But if I stop auditioning now, I’ll spend my life wondering ‘what if?’”
“So I’m the bad guy, trying to hold you back?” His voice dripped sarcasm.
She took his hands, strong, powerful, and slightly scratchy from the dry skin on his knuckles. “No. Strange as it sounds, I have to leave because I care about you and Eloise too much. I don’t want to ever resent you.”
“Instead, I’m left behind, becoming cynical that I’m less important to you than a job.”
“It’s not simply a job. It’s who I am. I can only be with someone who respects that about me, and I want that person to be you, but I won’t demand you wait.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. He either hated her now, or he understood her. She waited for his response, wondering if she should have told him how
much falling in love scared her.
The basement door creaked. “Daddy, where are you?”
She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, warm against her lips, wondering if this was the last time she’d touch him so close. “I want to continue whatever this is. It’s worth trying, I hope.”
He briefly met her eyes, and her heart fluttered.
“Daddy?”
He dropped her hands and walked to the stairs. Before climbing, he paused. “A father’s work is never done, but it’s worth it. Maybe you and I … ”
His unfinished thought gave her a sliver of hope.
Chapter 10
New York City
Penelope shimmied into a tiny black dress, tousled her hair and put on her favorite red-gold lipstick and gooiest lip gloss. Heads would turn as she walked into the room, especially since she’d be flanked on each side by two other beautiful women. Plus it was the right time of year for single men to be on the prowl. Christmas was over, and everyone wanted someone to kiss for luck at midnight three days from now.
Tonight, she prepared for a rare treat, a night on the town with her roommates. She hadn’t seen one of her roommates in fourteen months because their schedules rarely overlapped. Hectic travel schedules made it a lot easier for the five of them to share a two bedroom apartment that no two of them would be able to afford on their own. Kara, a Rockette, usually stayed in New York and often had the apartment to herself a few nights a month. One of Kara’s friends from high school became a flight attendant based out of New York and brought in two of her coworkers. The bed sharing system worked for them, but didn’t allow for much personalization of their space.
She loved her roommates. Through the years, they’d become great friends as they’d explored New York’s restaurants, clubs, and culture. They spoke of hopes and dreams over drinks and advised about which men to avoid. And, naturally, they’d nursed each other through more than a few breakups.
This should have been a joyful night. Instead, getting dressed was a chore. She was out of sync, not only with the rhythms of sharing hairdryers and the bathroom mirror. During her recuperation, she’d missed so much in her roommates’ lives that she struggled to keep up with the latest in-jokes. Instead of grumping, she put on a happy face and steeled herself for a night of clubbing.
At the third club Trina, one of the flight attendants, pulled her aside. “So tell me about this man.”
She turned around trying to find the man in question, but without luck. “Who? I don’t see anyone.”
“That’s the problem. You haven’t seen any guy all night, even though at the last bar, that dark haired hottie was all over you. I’ve never seen you so spaced out on the dance floor and I know you’ve ordered way more water than appletinis, so something is going on and it has to be a guy.”
She looked at her astute friend. “It is.”
Trina pulled her to an oversized red velvet chair and the two of them sat by side. “Dish!”
“He’s gorgeous, tall, athletic, and a doctor to boot.”
Trina slapped her arm playfully. “You are such a cliché — the patient falling in love with the doctor who healed her.”
“It wasn’t like that. His daughter was in that class I taught. She is so creative, I — ”
“Don’t change the subject.” Concern crossed her friend’s face. “Is he married or divorced? Divorced is much easier although you have to deal with the ex-wife and, apparently, kids.”
“Actually, he’s a widow.”
“Oh.”
“You said it.” She leaned back, energy draining from her body. “If he were divorced, he’d be over his wife and there might be room for me in his life. Instead, he still loves her.”
“Has he told you that?”
“No.” Her friend’s expression served as a silent demand she explain herself. “He hasn’t had to. His house is practically a shrine to her. He admitted the only room he changed was his daughter’s and I’m sure Eloise drove that redecoration. He’s stuck.”
“How long has it been?”
“Almost four years.”
“Maybe he’s keeping her memory alive for his daughter. How old was she when her mother died?”
“Two-ish.”
Trina nodded sagely. She was the group expert on marriage, having one marriage and divorce under her belt. “Did you pursue him or did he pursue you?”
“Good question. I don’t know.” Trina’s eyebrow arched, but she didn’t have a better answer. She and Carson seemed to fall together.
“Maybe he’s scared?”
“No way. As for me, I’m terrified. I don’t know what frightens me more, being with him or being without him.”
“What’s harder to imagine?”
“Being without him, but I can’t imagine being without dance either.”
“And how’s that working out for you?”
This lead to a discussion of her struggle to find work as art funding dried up and her fear she wouldn’t work again. It was easier to talk about work than her heart.
Trina brought the discussion back to Carson. “Maybe he’s afraid you’ll go gallivanting across the globe with your glamorous career and he’ll get left behind, out of sight, out of mind.”
“It’s not like he’s asked me to stay.” Or had he? At any rate, they made no formal promises or commitment.
“No, but men are weird. Remember Brody?”
She did. She was there when he dumped Trina seconds after the ball dropped in Times Square a few years ago and got engaged to someone else six weeks later. “What does he have to do with this?”
“He hated my job. Those last few months he pestered me with questions such as who would watch our children and how would it look to his friends if the woman he married was a ‘flying whore.’”
“Ugh, what a jerk.”
“Yeah, but a few co-workers I know have had similar problems. It’s an occupational hazard based on male insecurity.”
Count on Trina to get her laughing again. “Carson doesn’t seem insecure. He’s so focused on what’s best for his family.”
“Whatever. Still, I know some couples who have made it work. One of the women I flew with last month has a husband who took reduced hours and a pay cut so he’d be better able to care for their kids when she flew overseas. There are plenty of success stories if both people are ready to commit. That’s what you have to ask yourself.”
Over the next two days, she spent a lot of time thinking about Trina’s words. She thought about them as she organized her few possessions still remaining in the New York apartment and as she read the trades. She thought about them a lot two evenings later as the roommates got ready for New Year’s Eve. She put on a slinky long sleeve knit dress over metallic leggings and thigh-high boots. She did a last minute check of her purse before she and her roommates piled into cabs.
• • •
The emptiness in Carson’s life grew acute after Penelope left. He spoke to her every night, sometimes during the early evening so Eloise could talk. The phone calls only made him miss her more. One night, she called from the bathroom in a club. Hearing the pounding music in the background reminded him that he couldn’t offer her freewheeling nights on the town. Instead, he represented nights at home with a child in tow.
Eloise sulked as well. With no school or dance classes to occupy her time, she grew moody, especially as she began to understand that Miss Penny would not be back to teach her class. Carson struggled at first to fill the void in their lives. Looking out the kitchen window, the off balance but rebuilt fairy house gave him an idea. Eloise mentioned building a sturdier house for the fairies so they couldn’t knock it down, even if the fairies fell on the ice. Three days after Christmas, they went to Home Depot, buying supplies for a new and improved fairy house. Rather than face the
elements, he set up a workshop on one side of the garage. A space heater provided warmth as they worked together gluing and hammering different pieces together, trying to make something that looked like Eloise’s sketch of a fairy house. It would be a bear to move come spring, but the project filled their otherwise empty evenings.
He promised her she could stay up late on New Year’s Eve. She napped in the afternoon, or tried to at least. He planned a game night, complete with popcorn, Oreos and sparkling apple juice. If she grew too tired, he promised to wake her so they could watch the ball drop in New York City and she could look for Miss Penny in the crowd.
She began yawning around ten, during the middle of their game of Sorry. He decided Operation would be their next game. The buzzer would keep her awake and laughing. As they finished Sorry, a pair of headlights flashed in his front window as a car pulled into his driveway. Minutes later, the doorbell rang. Walking to the door, he noticed taillights on the road. Someone must have realized they were at the wrong house. He walked back to Eloise, but the doorbell rang again.
“Daddy, aren’t you going to get the door?”
“Sure honey. You stay here. I’ll be a minute.”
He expected to see the remnants of a teenage prank. Nothing prepared him for the sight of Penelope in her impractical white coat, red lipstick, and rhinestone barrettes, with a half bottle of champagne and her suitcase. Her smile broadened. Her eyes shone brightly and she gave him a little finger wave.
“Surprise!”
He rubbed his eyes, certain he must be sleeping.
Eloise ran for the door shouting, “Miss Penny!”
In his dream reunion scenario, Eloise would spend the night at her grandparents’ house or at least be asleep, but he’d take what he could get. She came to him. He tried hard to hide his feelings, especially from Eloise, but he couldn’t help himself tonight. He extended his hand to help Penelope in the house. As soon as she crossed the threshold, he wrapped her up in his arms, nuzzling her cold cheek as he kissed her skin. The only thing keeping him from kissing her senseless was his daughter’s arms wrapped around their waists.
Tidings of Love Page 49
