Dancing (anita blake)

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  I grinned at them. “How bad a fire?”

  “Soup from scratch is hard,” Nathaniel said.

  Zerbrowski shook his head. “Nope, I opened a can of Campbell’s tomato soup and the next thing I knew the fire alarm was going off, there was smoke everywhere, and flames. The dorm monitor was yelling for us all to get out. I grabbed the hall fire extinguisher and put out the fire I could see, but we still had to evacuate the dorm.”

  All the grownups laughed, even Zerbrowski, but Matthew didn’t get the joke. He looked up at us, clearly puzzled. I didn’t try to explain the humor, I’d learned that humor is a skill set like a lot of socialization, and Matthew just had to learn it as he went. Explained jokes lose their funniness.

  Katie said, “I was coming back from a movie with friends, and we went to see what was happening. I saw my future husband for the first time covered in black soot, hair every which way, his dorm monitor screaming at him, and him waving the fire extinguisher back at him.”

  “Love at first sight?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No, but he was totally calm in the middle of it all. Everyone else was angry, or scared, or just confused, but he wasn’t.” She looked up at him with that shining look she saved just for him.

  “She thought I was brave,” Zerbrowski said.

  “You were and are,” she said.

  He shrugged, but looked pleased. “She recognized my hair and glasses in class the next day, and started talking to me. I’d spent almost an entire semester trying to get the nerve up to talk to her, and she just comes up and does it for me. It was totally worth destroying the dorm’s kitchen and nearly getting expelled.”

  She kissed him again, and then asked, “How did you guys meet?”

  We all looked at each other, because our stories weren’t cute. Nathaniel said, “I was in the hospital after being attacked by someone who wanted to see how much damage a wereanimal could heal. Anita came to visit another mutual friend. The friend introduced us, and I spent a couple of years trying to persuade her to sleep with me.”

  I stared at him, because it was all true, but so sanitized for the Zerbrowskis’ benefit that I wouldn’t have recognized it. The person who had attacked him had been a paying client, because Nathaniel had still been a high-priced and very specialized male escort when we first met. He’d also done a few pornographic movies, which he’d given me as a gift, thinking it was seductive. Sometimes I thought nothing short of deity intervention had gotten Nathaniel and me together, because when you just listed events, it seemed improbable. Yet here we were.

  “Why wouldn’t you date him?” Katie asked.

  “I don’t remember him asking to date me, at first,” I said.

  “I was just aiming at being her lover, I never dreamed she’d date me for real, let alone be my queen.”

  I moved in so I could go up on tiptoe and kiss him, while Matthew held his hand and the Zerbrowskis beamed at us. Happily married people like seeing happy couples.

  “Oh, that’s so sweet, your queen, and are you her king?” Katie asked.

  Nathaniel smiled at me, but said, “No, Micah is our king.” He looked past me to Micah, who was still standing by himself. I didn’t look behind us at my other sweetie; I watched Katie’s face flinch just a little. She was a good sport about it, but she didn’t really understand how I could be in love with more than one person, and there was that whole male/female/male dynamic, too. Zerbrowski just grinned at us all. If he had a problem with us, I didn’t know about it.

  Micah had noticed Katie’s momentary expression, because he didn’t come closer to us. That wasn’t okay, because if we were going to be here today, it had to be real, no hiding. I reached my free hand out to him, and after a moment’s hesitation he came to me, to us.

  I kissed Micah, and then there was tension in his hand as Nathaniel leaned down for a kiss, too. It wasn’t that they didn’t kiss each other, but in public it didn’t always go over well. Even I tensed up, because I wasn’t sure if Zerbrowski was that secure in his manhood—or Katie either, so to speak.

  “You guys are just cute together,” Zerbrowski said.

  I gave him the smile that comment and the genuine look of happiness in his face deserved. Katie hugged her husband and smiled at us. “He’s right, you guys are cute. How did you and Micah meet?”

  We told a version of the truth, but it left so much out that I always thought of it as a lie. Micah had already sanitized the story for the press; since he was interviewed a lot by the media as the head of the Coalition for Better Understanding Between Humans and Lycanthropes, the question had come up before.

  “I came into town hoping to find a city that would understand what I was trying to do with the Coalition. Anita was there when I met the other wereleopards, and it was love at first sight for me.”

  I took his hand in mine. “I had to be persuaded that adding another person to my life was a good idea.”

  “Since I’ve never seen you happier, seems like it was,” Zerbrowski said.

  I nodded and kissed Micah.

  “So you met Nathaniel and Anita at the same time,” Katie said.

  “I actually met Nathaniel first,” Micah said.

  “And was it love at first sight, too?”

  Micah shook his head. “No, I’d never dated a man before, so I didn’t see Nathaniel that way.”

  “He’s your first . . . boyfriend ever?”

  Micah nodded, smiling, and gave Nathaniel the look that went with the smile, which made them both lean around me and kiss again.

  “You are all adorable together, but be careful with the public displays of affection around some of the other men, and even some of the wives.”

  Zerbrowski frowned at her. “Katie . . .”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s just the truth. You and Anita must both know what could happen if they did that out in the yard.”

  “They’re not in public yet. They’re with friends, with us,” he said.

  I wanted to give Zerbrowski a hug right then, but he was still hugging Katie, and I didn’t want to step farther away from my men in the middle of all this.

  “No, it’s all right; we live in the Bible belt, Mrs. Zerbrowski. We know we have to be careful in public,” Micah said. His voice was neutral as he said it; if he was insulted it didn’t show in his voice, or face. He was good at hiding his emotions when he had to. We’d both learned to hide.

  “It’s our kitchen and just us right now,” Zerbrowski said. “You don’t have to be careful around friends.”

  Micah glanced at Nathaniel, but it was our shared boyfriend who put his arm across his shoulders, drawing him closer. Micah hesitated, but slid his arm around Nathaniel’s waist and his other arm across my shoulders, so we were politely cuddled. Nathaniel kept holding Matthew’s hand.

  “Oh, don’t call me Mrs. Zerbrowski, Micah, that’s for work, and my mother-in-law. Please, it’s Katie, and my smart husband is right, we’re friends, and it shouldn’t matter when you’re with friends.”

  “I know that not all the police officers coming today are our friends,” I said.

  “Is Uncle Natty the prince?” Matthew asked. He’d been thinking about what he considered important while the adults had worried about things he took for granted.

  “Prince of what?” I asked.

  “Of you, your prince, if you’re queen and Uncle Micah is king, then is Natty the prince?”

  “Well, actually, Anita is Prince Charming, but when she got promoted to queen I got the title,” Nathaniel said.

  Matthew frowned at him. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s okay, Matthew. Yes, Nathaniel is my prince,” I said.

  My answer seemed to please him, and he let it go. Matthew was teaching me not to overexplain, to explain just enough to make him happy, and not dig the verbal hole deeper. Talking to children is like testifying in court, answer just what’s asked, don’t elaborate, and don’t volunteer information.

  “Nathaniel and I won’t kiss
in front of the other guests,” Micah said.

  “Aww,” Nathaniel said, and did an exaggerated pout at us.

  Matthew said, “What’s wrong with kissing?”

  Micah smiled at him. “There’s nothing wrong with kissing.”

  “I don’t understand,” Matthew said.

  “I don’t think we can explain it to you,” I said. I wanted to be upset with Katie, but I knew the cops that would be here today, and my two boyfriends kissing would not go over well. She was right, but I hated that other people’s insecurities and prejudices made it a risk for the men to touch too much in public. Literally, they risked other men screaming in their faces, or even trying to beat them up.

  “We still have a few things to finish up so the food will be ready,” Nathaniel said. “Why don’t you take Matthew outside.”

  Katie smiled at my prince. “That’s a great idea. Besides, Zerbrowski is dying to show off his new grill.”

  “That’s right, he always grills the meat, and he’s never set anything on fire,” I said.

  “Grilling meat is the only thing he can do without needing a fire extinguisher, but let him near the stove, or oven, and it’s terrible,” she said.

  “I grill vegetables just fine,” he said.

  “I’ll give you that,” she said, and went up on tiptoe to kiss him.

  Nathaniel kissed me and then Micah good-bye. Normally he would have kissed Micah more thoroughly, because he might not get another chance for hours, but we’d started doing less of the tonsil-cleaning kisses in front of Matthew—not just between the men, but between me and the men, or anyone and anyone. Why? Because Matthew liked to imitate, and he’d gotten sent home with a note from preschool. We’d been left having to explain that certain kinds of kissing was grownup kissing, and he had to be a grownup to do it. He’d accepted our reasoning and filed it away on the same list as driving a car, drinking liquor, or being able to lift weights. It made perfect sense to him that it was just one more thing he wasn’t old enough to do, yet.

  Matthew hugged Nathaniel bye, and took my hand in his, then reached for Micah’s hand. We followed Zerbrowski as he led the way through the house. Matthew was almost skipping between us, excited about meeting other kids, and playing outside. I wished I was as happy about being here. I glanced across at Micah and he met my eyes, both of us still in sunglasses. I thought we’d keep them on; it’s always harder to keep the hurt feelings, or anger, out of your eyes than the rest of you. We’d known that coming here was going to be a test of sorts, and it had been brave of Zerbrowski and Katie to invite us, but she’d already shown that her nerve wasn’t as strong as his. She was a teacher, and he was a cop. Of course, maybe Katie was just being realistic, and it was the rest of us that were fooling ourselves. When you live in a way that’s too different from everyone else, you get grief about it. Is it fair? No, but it’s still what happens. I wanted to go home.

  Zerbrowski led us out the back door onto the deck with the other early arriving guests. There were a half dozen kids already playing in the yard. Matthew was so excited that he jumped up and down to get rid of some of the energy of it. There was no going home, no disappointing the kid, or even Nathaniel, who was finally in the kitchen with the other domestic partners. For our big boy, and our little one, we were going to smile and smile and have a good time even if it killed us. Strike that, no killing today, though depending on the level of stupid aimed at us, I was willing to look at a little mayhem.

  Matthew asked permission to go play, we nodded, and off he went. He joined the running and laughing children as if he’d known them all his life. I’d half expected some hesitation, or shyness, but nope, the other kids accepted him just as easily.

  Zerbrowski opened his new grill and began to wax eloquent about it. Micah and I stood with our arms around each other, pretending we cared—or I pretended, maybe Micah would actually grill meat if we had a grill.

  I got greetings from the other cops of, “Hey, Blake . . . Anita, good to see you . . .” then they closed around us introducing me to their wives; so far I was the only female cop here. I introduced Micah as my boyfriend, but felt strange not saying that our third was in the house.

  We got a lot of, “My husband, my other half, my guy, Dan, Saul . . . didn’t tell me you had a little boy.”

  It took us almost thirty minutes of conversation to try and explain that Matthew wasn’t ours, but he spent a lot of time with us. Once we said that he was our nephew and we were Uncle Micah and Aunt Anita, they accepted it more easily. I’d originally been adamant that we weren’t Matthew’s uncles and aunt, so he couldn’t call us that, but it made him happy, and it made conversations like this much easier. I was tired of the topic long before the other women were, because they asked more questions than the guys. They were men and they were cops, most of that combination learns early not to ask too many personal questions. Micah helped me find a shorthand to explain, “His mother’s out of town on a business trip, and we’re the only family in town.”

  Then there was more small talk. I met more spouses of fellow officers in the next few minutes than I’d ever met, and because I was the woman they seemed to expect me to be the chatty one. I wasn’t. Both the men with me today were more easily social than I would ever be. Micah did his best to redirect the conversation away from me and to him, but the women just didn’t seem to understand that I was the “husband,” and that our “wife” was actually in the kitchen with Katie. Of course, we didn’t try to explain that part either.

  By the time Micah and I managed to find a way to be by ourselves for a few minutes my nerves were raw and I was sort of clinging to him. I’d forgotten how much I hated get-togethers like this; it was just too many people who were work friends at best, work acquaintances, or near strangers. Touching Micah helped, but it had been years since I’d been at a large party where I didn’t have more of my lovers with me, and those parties had also been vampire and wereanimal events, which meant it wasn’t the same kind of socializing, or they were already my friends. I hadn’t realized how much I relied on touching my lovers, having them help out with the small talk, or having someone to huddle in the corner with and hate the social together. Micah was better at it than I was, but he held me tight, too, his hands stroking my back.

  “You okay?” he asked softly.

  “I’d forgotten how bad I am at these things.”

  He spoke with his face pressed into the line of my neck. “If it’s our people it’s refreshing.”

  “Some of these are friends, but they aren’t our people,” I whispered against his hair.

  Micah raised his head up, body tense with listening. “That’s Matthew.”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “He’s angry, yelling.”

  I didn’t ask him how he heard that over the crowd noise. One of the benefits of being a lycanthrope was better hearing, and we’d discovered that the catweres could hear higher noises than the canines. Small children had high-pitched voices.

  We started down the steps of the deck, going for the side yard and the kids, but Zerbrowski called after me. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

  “We were just going to check on Matthew.”

  “I can do it,” Micah said, “you talk cop stuff.”

  “You sure?”

  He came back to the steps and kissed me. “I’m sure.”

  He started walking through the crowd, leaving me with a stupid grin on my face.

  “Earth to Anita,” Zerbrowski said.

  “Sorry, what’s up?”

  He grinned at me, and shook his head.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You guys are good together, that’s all.”

  “Thanks.”

  The grin faded around the edges. “But I need you to see something in the kitchen.”

  “Is Nathaniel all right?”

  “Oh, he’s fine; a lot of the other wives think he’s just fine.” He drew the last “fine” out into that ghetto drawl.

&nb
sp; I frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Haven’t you noticed that we’re missing a lot of the wives?”

  I glanced around and it was mostly men, not all, but suddenly a lot. “So the women have gone inside to talk about things other than guns, sports, and police work. Doesn’t it usually end up divided between cops and non-cops?”

  “Not this early in the day. Come see.” He motioned me to follow him, and I did, wondering what was going on.

  The dining room was what you walked into from the back door, so I could see that the table was covered in food, waiting for Katie to give the “come and get it.” But I knew that the traffic jam of women spilling out into the dining room from the kitchen hadn’t helped cook, because if all of them had helped, or were helping, the kitchen wouldn’t have been big enough to hold them all. Usually, people ask if they can help and if told no, they go outside and visit, drink a few cold drinks from the cooler.

  I heard Katie’s voice higher than normal, calling out, “Ladies, thanks for the offer, but Nathaniel and I have all the help we need.”

  Three women turned and started walking away from the kitchen. They were laughing. A tall brunette said, “I’d love to help Nathaniel out.”

  The shorter brunette woman beside her said, “If I wasn’t a married woman I’d help him out, all right.” She laughed half nervously.

  The third woman, a blonde, said, “I’m married, not dead, I may still take a run at him.”

  The short brunette gave her a play slap on the arm. “You wouldn’t cheat on Tom.”

  “For that, I might.” Her voice had dropped to a low purr.

  The tall brunette saw us standing there, and touched the other woman’s arm. They looked at us a little startled, probably wondering if we’d heard them.

  “Hello, ladies, I’m just checking in with Katie and Anita wanted to check in with Nathaniel. See how our better halves are getting on with the food,” Zerbrowski said.

  By him including his wife and Nathaniel together he made it clear that it was on equal par, wife and . . . partner. The women got it, because they suddenly looked uncomfortable. The blonde decided to tough it out, sticking her chin out definitely, “Nathaniel belong to you?”