by Renee Fowler
“I’m not. My birthday isn’t for almost two more weeks.” I wonder why Jamie insisted on having the party tonight instead of closer to our actual birthday? Maybe she was just looking for an excuse to use my house to throw a get together.
“I know that,” Mom says sharply. “Don’t act like I forgot, but you’re celebrating tonight.” She gives me a big grin. “Well, have fun.”
“I’ll try my best.” I wave goodbye to Sarah as they back out of the driveway, and head back inside. “Is there anything else you need me to do before this little shindig gets underway?” I ask my sister.
“Nope. I think I’ve got it all taken care of.”
“Great. In that case I’m going to make myself scarce downstairs. Just holler if you need anything.”
“No you’re fucking not, Jack. This is our birthday party.”
“Jamie, they’re your friends. Look, I don’t mind if you wanted to use the place to have a get together. All you had to do is ask, just keep it down to a gentle roar, okay?”
“You’re really going to hideout downstairs all night? That’s pathetic.”
“It’s just like the old days, huh?” But it’s not, I realize with a thick feeling in my throat. In the old days, Claire and I would be holed up somewhere, watching movies and fooling around.
“Actually… maybe that’s a good idea. You can hang out, watch a game, have a few beers. You’ll have some peace and quiet for a change. A nice relaxing night to yourself.” Jamie taps a finger on her chin. “Will you move that keg into the kitchen, and I’ll get you some snacks and things set up downstairs.”
“Really?” I couldn’t believe she was going along with this so easily.
“Sure. I mean, if you get bored you’ll know where the party’s at, right?”
“Right.”
I moved the keg for Jamie, got everything set up while she ran some things downstairs for me. The doorbell rings.
“I think you’re all set, little bro. Enjoy your night.”
“Yeah. Sure. You too.”
When I get downstairs, I pause to scratch my forehead. There is a whole platter of snacks, a twelve pack of beer, another of soda, and an entire bottle of some fruity vodka that she knows damn well I won’t touch. When I spot the stack of blankets, and pillows it becomes abundantly clear Jamie intends for me to crash down here tonight on the couch. I guess she figures my bed upstairs can be better used by some of her friends that need a place to hang their heads. I blow out the scented candle she lit, grab the remote off the coffee table, and get comfortable.
Four beers later, loud music kicks in upstairs, and I can hear the murmur of many voices. I turn up the TV a bit to compensate. The door leading downstairs opens, and music blares louder.
“Yup. Right down there,” I hear an unfamiliar voice say.
I look up to see a pair of long, tan legs in heels coming down the steps, then the hem of a red skirt hitting just above the knee. When the rest of the woman comes into view, I blink a few times in confusion.
When she catches sight of me, Anna looks as perplexed as I feel. “Jack? What are you doing here?”
“I live here.” Sitting forward, my head dips between my shoulders. Now all of Jamie’s niceties were making a bit more sense. “I’m really sorry about this, Anna. I think-”
“This is a set up,” Anna finishes.
“Yeah,” I sigh.
She dumps the pizza on the coffee table, and marches back up the steps to pound on the door. “Laura, open up.”
“It’s time to move the fuck on,” someone says, presumably Laura.
“Don’t worry. He doesn’t bite,” Jamie adds. “You two have fun.”
“See you in the morning.” The statement is punctuated by a loud giggle.
I jump up to my feet as Anna creeps down the steps looking red faced and furious. “They locked us in.”
“I had nothing to do with this,” I assure her.
“Do you have your phone? Laura took mine, she said… God, she had this whole thing planned out.”
“I think they both did.”
Anna winds a piece of hair around her finger, and stares around the basement. “Where’s Sarah?”
“She’s with my mom for the night.” I scrub a hand through my hair. Remembering that stupid grin she gave me when she came to pick up Sarah, I’m starting to think she was in on it too. “I’m really sorry, Anna. My family is a bunch of meddling jerks.” I start to laugh at the ridiculous situation they’ve put us both in. Did they actually think some pizza and alcohol is all it would take to help me move past the love of my life? I barely know this woman. “I could go bust the door down if you want.”
“That’s okay.” She collapses on the opposite side of the couch. “Then I would just be stuck upstairs with a bunch of people I don’t even know. I’m sure they’ll let us out in an hour or two.”
Knowing Jamie like I do, I wasn’t entirely convinced of that. “So, how’ve you been?” I ask, and we both start to laugh.
“Besides being held hostage, I can’t complain.” She flashes me a brief smile, and shakes her head. Unlike the previous times I’ve seen her, Anna’s dark, springy curls are loose and flowing around her face. “Sorry. I’m sure you’re a great guy and all, but… I’m just coming out of something. Well, not just. It’s been a while, but I’m not ready to move on. Obviously my friend thinks it’s time, but she doesn’t care what I think I guess.”
“It’s sort of the same thing for me. Sarah’s mother, my wife, passed away… a while ago.” I can’t force myself to say it. Six years is a long time, but it still doesn’t change the way I feel. “Why does everyone else think they get a say? You and I should be the ones to say when we’re ready, right?”
“Exactly! Thank you. Ever since I got into town, Laura has been hounding me. It’s like she’s made it her mission to fix me up. You’d think she could divert some of that energy to her own life.”
“My sister is the same way. My whole family really. Maybe they all need to find a new hobby.”
Anna relaxes and smiles. “So how’s Sarah been?”
“Good. She’s excited to start class next week. She won’t stop talking about it.”
“I’m excited to start teaching.”
“Want a beer to pass the time while we’re trapped?”
Anna shakes her head. “I hate beer.”
“I guess this was for you then,” I say, gesturing towards the bottle of vodka. “I should’ve known something was up when I saw that. It’s not really my kind of drink.”
“I don’t usually drink much, but…” She stares back towards the steps. “What the hell. It isn’t every day I’m held against my will. If there was ever an excuse to have a drink, it would be this, right?”
I chuckle under my breath. “You’re starting to give me a complex.”
“No! You’re fine. You seem really nice, but this whole situation is utterly preposterous.”
“That pretty much sums up my twin sister, utterly preposterous.”
“You’re twins?” She asks, scooching closer to make herself a drink.
“Uh huh. I don’t always admit that to people.”
“That’s pretty cool though. Being a twin.”
“It has its moments I guess.” It’s hard to reconcile the Jamie that stepped in and helped me care for my newborn daughter, and the Jamie that actually thought this scheme was a good idea. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
Anna shakes her head. “Nope. I did consider Laura like a sister, but after this I may be reconsidering that notion.”
“How did you two meet?”
“We danced together at the same ballet company for a few years.” She takes a gulp of her drink, and grimaces. “We were also roommates for a while.”
Anna crosses one leg over the other, and smoothes her dress down demurely. Jesus, she’s got some legs on her. I force my eyes back up to her face, and thank god she’s looking down into her cup, and not noticing me notice her.
Anna stares at the TV for a second. “I don’t understand baseball. I mean, I understand the rules. I just don’t understand the appeal. It’s so… slow.” She laughs, a low, quiet chuckle, nothing like Claire’s laugh, which was loud and gregarious. Although she shared Anna’s opinion that baseball was the most boring sport known to man. “No offense,” Anna adds. “I guess you like it, otherwise you wouldn’t be watching it.”
“No offense taken. Everyone is entitled to their opinion.” I twist the tab off my beer, and toss it on the coffee table. “The truth is, I don’t really see the appeal to ballet. When you were telling Sarah the story about the bird, I can’t imagine trying to figure it all out just by watching people dance. I think I’d rather read the book, or watch the movie.” When I look back up, Anna is grinning wide. I feel my lips returning the gesture. “No offense,” I tack on.
“None taken. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea.”
“I have another confession to make.” I’m just inebriated enough that saying it seems like a good idea. “Even though it’s not my cup of tea, I may have looked you up online. You’re the real deal, Bella Bishop.”
She grimaces and shakes her head. “I’m not Bella anymore.”
“What made you give all that up to come teach little kids?”
Her lips form a forced, tight smile. “I was getting a bit old for it.”
“You’re not old.”
“I’m getting old for a ballet dancer.” She kicks her foot out and twists her ankle in a small circle. I feel slightly hypnotized by the sight. “And it starts to get old, competing against twenty year olds for parts.”
“But you’re still dancing.”
“Mmhmm.” She downs her second drink, or maybe it’s her third, and stops to make another one.
“You looked like you were doing just fine when I came in that first day, but I guess I don’t know much about it one way or the other.”
Anna shrugs. “It’s nice to change things up too, and living there, it’s ungodly expensive. Laura, me, one other girl were in an apartment half the size of the one I have now, and we could barely swing it. And that was working other jobs on top of dance too. Plus all the noise, and traffic, and bullshit. I don’t think I ever realized how much bullshit it was living there until I moved away.” She pauses to hiccup. “You know, if Sarah wants to quit ballet in a few weeks or months, you should let her. Because what’s the end game really? She works her ass off for twenty years just to be put out to pasture before she gets her first grey hair? If she wants to quit, don’t make her keep doing it. Promise me.”
I laugh, and crack open another beer. “Sarah is pretty strong willed, which I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough. I can’t make her do a thing she doesn’t want.”
“She’s sweet though.”
“She is. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“How long has your wife been gone?” she asks quietly after a short lull.
“A while. It’s been a while.”
“Sarah seems like she’s handling it okay.”
I nod. Why won’t I just say it? Because it opens up a whole can of worms I’d rather not discuss I guess, and it sounds so pathetic. Six years is an eternity. “Did your parents make you take dance classes when you were younger or something?”
“No, that was all my own stupidity.”
“Stupidity? You did about as well as someone can as a dancer, right?”
“I was only principal for two years, and there were bigger ballet companies in the city I could’ve moved to if I had more time.”
“You’ve still got time.”
“Nope. My time is up,” she says forlornly.
“But you had fun, right?”
She takes a long drink. “Sure.”
“And it was something you enjoyed doing.”
“Mmhmm.”
“Plus you still get to dance.”
“Yeah.”
“I think you should be proud. A lot of people set out to do what you did, and don’t make it half as far, and it’s not like you’re really going out to pasture like you said. You’ve still got plenty of time to do whatever you want.”
Anna nods, slams her empty cup down on the table, then starts to slowly shake her head. “It’s not even about what I did or didn’t accomplish. It’s all the time I wasted. When I was a teenager. Almost all of my twenties.” She reaches over, starts to make herself another drink, and this time I pay attention to how she’s pouring. “I’ve wasted my whole fucking life, and what was it all for?”
I grab her arm before she can take a gulp of what I now know is way more vodka than soda. “Why don’t you have a piece of pizza with me,” I say, carefully prying the cup out of her hand. “Have you eaten anything?”
“I can’t ever get that time back, but I can eat pizza now, so that’s nice. You know, I used to chew food up, and spit it back out so I wouldn’t gain weight. That’s the only way I got to eat pizza before. How gross it that?” She starts to laugh and cry at the same time. Her face crumples, and she presses a hand over her mouth. “Oh, my god. I’m so sorry.”
Instinctively I pull her up against my chest, and rub the back of her shoulder. “It’s okay, Anna. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“No, it’s not okay. You’re the one that lost your wife, and I’m blubbering like an idiot over nothing.”
“It’s not nothing, and she died years ago.” I try my damndest to ignore the press of her body up against mine, how soft her hair is against the side of my face. “Anna, you’ve still got plenty of time, and you’re beautiful.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You can’t really believe that.”
“You’re just not seeing the whole picture. You only see what I want you to see.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“I think you’ve just had a bit too much to drink.”
“I don’t usually drink. I shouldn’t have drank that much.”
“It’s no big deal. It happens to the best of us.”
“It doesn’t happen to me.”
“I think we should talk about something totally unrelated to dead spouses, or dancing.” I also think I should probably let her go, but she still has her arms wrapped around me, and I’m willing to hold her as long as she needs to be held.
“What do you want to talk about instead?” she asks.
“Tell me all about being a cat owner, because it looks like I’m getting one soon.”
“I guess Sarah talked you into it, huh?”
“I’m a big pushover when it comes to her.”
“Cats are the best. They’re so low maintenance, and they’re little cuddle monsters. They just want food, and water, and love.” Anna nuzzles against the side of my neck. “God, you smell good.”
“I do?” I swallow thickly.
“Mmhmm. Why do you smell this good?”
“I dunno.”
“Is it aftershave?” she asks, rubbing the tip of her nose against my jaw.
“No. I don’t use anything like that.”
“Maybe I’m just used to gross, sweaty dancers, and half of them are gay anyways.” Her laugh is a warm, quiet breath next to my ear. “I forgot. We weren’t supposed to talk about dance.”
“We can talk about whatever you want, Anna.” I’d listen to her say anything if she kept whispering like that.
What the hell is wrong with me? I’m a bit drunk, but not so wasted I shouldn’t know better. I go to make a motion to pull away, but she winds her arms around my neck a fraction tighter.
“I was wondering what you looked like out of uniform.”
“Now you don’t have to wonder anymore.”
“Mmhmm.” One of her hands curls around the back
of my neck. “I like the sound of your voice, Jack. You have a nice voice.”
“I like your voice too, but it sounds different sometimes.” My own voice sounds strained at the moment.
“You mean sometimes I sound like a New Yawka and sometimes I don’t?”
“Uh huh.”
“I try not to sound like that. It sounds so stupid.”
“I don’t think it sounds stupid.” I can feel the rise and fall of her chest pressed against mine. We’re both breathing fast, and this is quickly getting out of hand. “I think… I think we need to stop now, Anna. You’re drunk.”
“We’re both drunk.”
I might be drunk, but she’s drunker, and there’s a house full of people upstairs, and I still love Claire. No matter how long she’s gone, I still love her. I pull Anna back by the shoulders. “We should stop,” I say again, but it doesn’t come out as firmly as I intend.
Nodding slowly, she sucks in her bottom lip, slowly releases it. “I haven’t had sex in over a year.”
“A whole year, huh?” I ask with a small laugh. God, she has no fucking idea. I loosen my grip on her shoulders, let my palms slide down her arms. If I hadn’t been drinking, and she wasn’t looking at me with those big, honey brown eyes. If she didn’t have legs for days, and if she wasn’t wearing those heels that made them look even longer. If one of us could actually get up and walk out of the door that my sister so conveniently locked from the other side, it might be easier to do the right thing, because I know damn well this isn’t the right thing.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything.” She runs a palm up either side of my face. Her mouth is awfully close to mine
“Anna…” I pause to swallow.
She leans up, swings one leg over mine, and settles herself on my lap. I drag a hand down my face, and bite back a groan. “It doesn’t mean anything, right?”
“Right,” I hear myself say.
Anna kisses me with plump, velvet soft lips that taste like cherry vodka. She smells like an exotic spice vaguely reminiscent of cloves and vanilla. My hands settle around her waist, slide down her legs. When I reach the hem of her dress, she tugs my wrists back, and lifts her mouth off mine. “The dress stays on, okay?”
I nod reluctantly, and her mouth is back on mine. Maybe this is good. At least one of us is thinking halfway clearly. Obviously we can’t really have sex. We barely know each other. We’re just kissing. It’s nothing.
