Winter Dreams

by Robyn Neeley

  • • •

  Although secure in his arms, her restless mind tossed and turned. She refused to call what they had just done making love. But no other term seemed right. She knew he didn’t love her. She was perhaps, no more than a warm and willing body to him. During the heat of the moment, though, eyes and bodies focused on each other, she could pretend he cared.

  When she managed to rest, she dreamt of snuggling with him every night, of waking next to him and of Eloise joining them on the bed with her little brother in tow. She dreamt he loved her a little bit, because she loved him.

  Love frightened her. She knew all about love. She fell in love with dance when she was in kindergarten. Through the years she sacrificed much in her pursuit of that deep, powerful, all consuming love. Whereas other teenagers went to parties or football games or held down afterschool jobs, she did her homework on the train as she shuttled to dance classes in the city or to rehearsals. Love was a hell of a lot of work.

  She woke early, leaving him tucked in bed. She doubted he had many opportunities to sleep in. She showered, pleased that the scent of his shower gel would linger with her all day. As she dried off, the opening bathroom door surprised her. Carson entered, handing her a cup of coffee after she secured the towel around herself.

  “Thank you.”

  One sip revealed the strong black coffee tasted as good as it smelled. But she knew from firsthand experience that the man in the blue plaid pajama pants tasted even better.

  His hair showed signs of bed head. Not in an offensive way, but in an adorable, just woke up haven’t had time to primp way. His stubble was more pronounced. She wondered if it would be soft or slightly scratchy against her abdomen. She knew she’d like it either way and that was part of the problem.

  “You weren’t going to slip out without saying goodbye, were you?” He sounded almost relieved to see her.

  “No.” The thought had crossed her mind. She would rather leave on her own terms than be kicked out when he regretted what he had done. “I should probably get dressed. Eloise comes home soon, right?”

  He nodded, looking uncomfortable. His Adams apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard. “I put your clothes on the chair. I’m sorry, but I … couldn’t find your underwear.”

  This was bad. It wasn’t so much the loss but the realization that inevitably Eloise would find her panties tucked into the couch or dangling from the Christmas tree or some other place. Guilt gripped her as she imagined the ensuing conversation where he would hem and haw an explanation. She suspected he feared the same.

  “I’m sure they’re somewhere.” She hoped she sounded more reassuring than she felt.

  She crossed the room, aware of him watching her. She couldn’t tell if he was angry, disappointed, or something else. The morning light brought a glimpse of reality after the previous dreamy night. Perhaps she wouldn’t feel so exposed if she actually got some clothes on. The towel slipped as she rummaged through her clothes, trying to find her bra without spilling the cup of coffee she still held.

  The she felt a bump in her pant leg and stopped caring about the slipping towel.

  “Here they are!” Triumphantly, she extracted her g-string from the leg of her pants and began swinging them round and round on her finger as she flashed Carson a mega-watt grin. He appeared chagrined. Something brushed her face. An overly long string swung from one side.

  “Oops. The string broke.” She quit goofing around and shimmied into her bra.

  “That was your underwear?”

  “Yup.”

  “My cell phone is bigger than that little scrap of fabric. Still, can I get you a needle and thread or a safety pin?”

  “No. It’s not a big deal. Half the time I don’t even bother with underwear. I’ll tuck these in my pocket and throw them out at home.”

  Guilt-free, she bent forward to tug on her pants. Then she heard the crash.

  “Damn it!”

  She sprang up and looked across the room. He stood in the bathroom doorway, surrounded by fragments of the mug and pools of dark brown coffee. He didn’t look happy.

  She crossed the room. “Let me — ”

  “No,” he muttered. “I’ll clean up later.”

  • • •

  After she got him so worked up this morning, he tried to coax her back into bed, but she protested. He gave up and went to the kitchen to make breakfast. Watching panty-free Penelope reach for milk in the refrigerator proved so distracting he burnt the first batch of scrambled eggs and had to start all over. Worst of all was their breakfast conversation.

  “Maybe you could come over again some night this week? After Eloise goes to bed, you could give me another dance lesson.”

  He held her hand, waggling his eyebrows in what he hoped was a suggestive way. She laughed.

  “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” She turned serious. “I can’t.”

  “Maybe we could get lunch or coffee then?”

  “I can’t. I’m going home this week. I’ve got one audition and two cattle calls lined up.”

  “But you live across town.”

  She shook her head. “I came here to recuperate from an injury. My parents let me live in their carriage house but new tenants move in after the holidays and I’m returning to work. I live in New York. I mentioned it at Eloise’s party. I thought you knew this already.”

  “I thought you had a job teaching children — teaching Eloise.” His anger rose. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he remembered her mentioning going back to work, but he assumed she meant teaching. He remembered she mentioned New York and John but why would she move half way across the country to teach? He was angry — on behalf of his daughter and himself. How could she be so flippant about leaving after last night? Hadn’t it meant anything to her?

  “I only committed to teach through December. They don’t need me at the school. I’m only there because the director hopes I’ll be able to help her top students with some of my contacts. I may be back to offer special theme workshops from time to time, but hopefully I’ll get my career back on track before it’s too late.”

  “So it’s all about your career. You’re going to abandon Eloise and the other girls who adore you.” It was easier to keep his focus on Eloise than admit his own hurt. He wanted to shout, What about me? What about us? Already his voice stuck in his throat. He refused to beg or, worse, cry in front of her. He had his pride.

  “You make me sound so cold.” Hostility flashed in her eyes.

  “Using a child — ”

  She slammed a hand on the table. “I’m not heartless. I care for Eloise. I was going to ask if I could take her to the special exhibit at the Art Institute the day after Christmas. I have a stack of stationary and stamped envelopes pre-addressed to me so she can send me drawings if she wants, and I hope she does. I don’t want to leave, but last week I got rejected by the one local company that was running auditions. So I have to go where the work is. One cattle call is for the theme parks in Orlando. Not my dream job, but one of the most attractive perks would be free tickets that I thought I’d send to you and Eloise. My cell phone has a local number so she can call me when I’m on the road or in New York. I came here to heal from some broken ribs. I didn’t expect to get attached to anyone, much less a precocious girl and an incredibly appealing man who still loves his dead wife.”

  She clasped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide. She stood, backing away the table.

  “I … I … I didn’t mean to say that. I’m going now.” She ran for the door. By the time he caught her, she pulled something shiny from her bag and threw it on the floor. It looked like a Christmas package, rectangular and wrapped with a bright red bow. He’d deal with it later.

  “Penelope … ” She tugged on her coat and opened the door. He reached for her arm, but she wren
ched away from him.

  “Don’t.” She stepped outside and he stood in the doorway like an idiot. “I do want to spend the day with Eloise again. If you would let me, that is. You might view me as a convenient fuck or as someone who pretended to care about your daughter, but Eloise won’t understand if you cast me away without letting me say goodbye.” She wheeled around and stormed down the snow cleared path to her car.

  He stood there, shirtless and in bare feet, watching her go. He struggled to sort out the myriad emotions churning through him. So he offended her. But wasn’t she the one pushing him away so she could have a career? Catherine had been a careerist. He hadn’t noticed at first. Med school and residency had kept him busy, but as the years passed she continually placed her job over their family. After Eloise arrived, he and Catherine became ships passing in the night, spending more time arguing than acting like lovers. Initially he chalked it up to new motherhood and hormones, but it never seemed to get better. He grew to resent the time she spent at work, taking on additional cases and courting media coverage of her success. He once suggested couples counseling, but she said she’d rather see the plastic surgeon and look better during her not infrequent TV appearances. When she died, he couldn’t imagine life without her and didn’t know how he would go on. He was devastated and abandoned. But in retrospect, he’d had those feelings long before the crash.

  After Catherine died, such thoughts seemed like a betrayal. He reshaped her memory into one of the perfect wife and mother. When he walked Eloise to her first day of school, he visualized Catherine holding their daughter’s other hand and the three of them smiling as they strode confidently toward the door. They laughed as they prepared dinner together as a family. In his mind, they went on vacation, to Disney World, to the mountains, to the beach. In death she became everything he’d hoped she would be, but never was.

  He cleaned the coffee spill in the bedroom. He’d never liked the white textured carpet, but Catherine chose it. She picked virtually everything, with the help of a designer. Neither valued his opinion. “But honey,” she’d say, “You didn’t grow up in elegance like I did. Our home must be beautiful.” The memory of her voice echoed in head. “Well, of course I have to do extra work. Someone has to pay for the new car and our vacation.”

  He realized he probably loved Catherine more after her death than before it. The thought sickened him. Did he still love her? Had he ever loved her? Penelope was wrong. That much he knew. Part of him would always love Catherine because she was part of Eloise, but he was no longer in love with her. He didn’t miss Catherine’s laugh. He didn’t want to do foolish things to impress her. He wanted to remove the white now coffee stained bedroom carpet and put in wooden flooring. Would the change be a replacement or an upgrade?

  This trip down memory lane was getting him nowhere. There was plenty more cleaning to do. Downstairs, he poured another cup of coffee and began clearing away the long forgotten wine glasses. He picked up the blanket from in front of the fireplace. The musky smell nearly overwhelmed him as he thought about Penelope, and the way she gave of herself so willingly and generously last night. He cleared the dining room dishes, replacing Eloise’s Hello Kitty placemat and cleaning away the traces of the imp that scrambled his brain.

  He moved to the kitchen, the final room needing his attention. He glanced out the window at the snowballs they threw. Grabbing a broom, he swept away evidence of where they gathered snow by the door, not wanting to give Eloise any hint as to what happened to the fairy house’s pinecone chimney. Penelope would have been proud of him for thinking of such a thing.

  He enjoyed her company, her playful spirit. Why she couldn’t see how much he cared? How much he could offer her? He closed the patio door and surveyed his surroundings. Catherine’s strong presence loomed everywhere.

  Carson considered his next course of action. He wanted Penelope to stay in town at least. Even though she said hurtful things, pointing out the hypocrisy in his life, he couldn’t hold that against her. Not when he looked at his home as she might. At the sound of a car outside, he quickly threw on clothes, hoping like crazy she’d come back after her anger subsided, but knowing better.

  When he got to the door, the Pattersons let him know their displeasure at being kept waiting. Eloise jumped up and down until Carson swept her into a huge hug. He thanked them for bringing her home and offered them coffee. To his surprise, they accepted.

  Walking toward the kitchen, Sue hissed in his ear, “You have a problem.”

  He turned to her, confused. How does she know about Penelope? “What is it?”

  She glanced pointedly at Eloise. “Little pitchers have big ears.”

  He hoped his face didn’t show his frustration. To her credit, Sue usually sent Eloise out of the room before giving him a lecture.

  They sat silently at the kitchen table, except for Eloise telling him about the pancakes she had for breakfast. After a few moments Sue nodded to her husband. Pappy clapped a hand on his granddaughter’s shoulder. “Why don’t you show me that pretty picture you got for your birthday? I haven’t seen how it looks on your wall.”

  “Okay!” Eloise gleefully grabbed his hand and led the way.

  As soon as they left, Sue turned to him, eyes narrowed. “I’m not even going to bring up why you decided to miss this family event given how it usually goes, but would you like to know what happened during Santa’s visit with the grandkids?”

  Carson swallowed hard. Last year, right in front of Santa, Eloise pushed one of her cousins hard enough to knock off his glasses. Then in the spring, she hit the Easter Bunny. He’d been surprised when Eloise received an invitation this year, particularly since this was the first time in a long time she’d been invited to stay overnight and participate in all the activities.

  “The other children all climbed up on Santa’s lap and asked for nice things. A new video game. An American Girl doll. A couple of books. A power wheel. But not Eloise. She told Santa she didn’t want any toys this year. She wants Miss Penny to be her new mommy.”

  Carson cringed at her mocking voice.

  “He asked if there was anything else she wanted. She said no, but it was okay because she had toys and books but she didn’t have a mommy. You have to watch out for that woman. Don’t think I can’t see what’s going on. She’s filling Eloise’s head with all sorts of nonsense, probably trying to find a sugar daddy so she can sit around all day playing dress-up. The nerve of that girl telling Eloise she doesn’t have a mother when she has Catherine. A mother’s love never ends, you know.

  “And you … you took down that nice family portrait that used to hang in the hallway. Don’t think I wouldn’t notice how you’re cutting Catherine away to make room for that flaky tramp. I thought you were too clever to be taken in by nothing more than a pretty face, but apparently I was wrong.”

  “That’s enough, Sue.”

  “I’m not finished yet!”

  “This is my house — ”

  “Paid for by my daughter’s blood, sweat, and tears. I will not have her replaced by that woman. Why, she doesn’t even teach the girls proper dancing! She just tells them to run around or roll on the floor. She probably wrote that stupid poe — ”

  “Enough.” He spoke through gritted teeth, hoping she could hear him over the sound of her own voice. She’d made more accusations than he could handle right now, some old, but mostly new ones. “Let’s calm down and use our inside voices. Eloise can hear you.”

  At that, Sue settled into her chair.

  He exhaled, slowly. Sometimes he wished he lived further from his in-laws. Most of the time, they helped care for Eloise, taking her after school, running her to dance class. Other times, they went too far. It would be easy to lash out today, but there was no point. He’d dealt with enough frightened, agitated patients to have learned a few skills.

  He reached a hand across the
table, offering a soothing touch. “Sue, I know you’re worried that Eloise and I will forget Catherine, but that’s impossible. Eloise likes Penelope and I know she misses having a mother. She doesn’t always say it so directly, but I’ve seen the sadness in her eyes when every other child in a parent-tot class has a mother with them. I see it when I pick her up from school or at the playground.”

  “She has me.”

  “I know, Sue, and we’re both so fortunate to have you and Pappy. You’re a warm and loving presence in our lives. But that doesn’t change her seeing mothers everywhere and wishing she had one, too.”

  “There are plenty of other women out there, including a number at your hospital. There’s that nice neighbor of yours, too, whose daughter also took that class over the summer.”

  “Jen’s a great neighbor, but she has her own children and is happily married. Maybe I should’ve looked at hiring a part time nanny, but once Eloise started biting and hitting, that got hard. I’m pretty sure we’re still blacklisted at a few babysitting agencies. I’m not sure I can explain it, but somehow Eloise connected with Penelope.”

  He had, too, for that matter. His body and soul triumphed his sense of reason. Now he was left picking up the pieces. At least this time, he could prepare a bit for the inevitable Eloise breakdown.

  Sue scoffed. “That dance teacher is a bad influence with all her talk of fairies and other nonsense. Eloise is already too inclined toward make believe.”

  Carson struggled to keep his emotions in check, but he retained a calm demeanor. “I know her dance teacher is a bit of a free spirit, but she’s also managed to get through Eloise’s defenses. No one has done that since Catherine died — not you, not me, not that child psychiatrist. Penelope listens to Eloise and encourages her to talk. She’s helped Eloise find control of her body and her emotions. I don’t know how she’s done it, but I’ve seen a great improvement in Eloise’s behavior thanks to her influence. Haven’t you noticed it, too?”