Dumping Billy
Page 26
“My job,” she said. “I have to make a call.”
He picked up his phone and handed it to her. “Feel free,” he said. “As long as you don’t call another man, my minutes are yours.”
“He isn’t exactly a man, he’s a principal,” Kate told him.
“Well, I’m glad you’ve got at least one principle,” he said, and kissed her again as she was punching in the Andrew number. “When you arrived I wasn’t sure.” She made a face and pushed him away. He lay down, holding a curl of her hair between his fingers and playing with it.
When Vera, Dr. McKay’s secretary, answered the phone, Kate was relieved. She asked for Dr. McKay but hoped he might not be available so that she could just leave a message.
Unfortunately, Vera put her right through. Kate heard the principal’s nasal voice at the other end of the phone. “McKay,” he said. “Yes?”
“This is Kate Jameson. I’m very sorry, but I won’t be able to come in again today.” There was a pause at the other end. It was amazing how powerful silence could be. She wanted to fill it, to blurt out excuses, but didn’t let herself.
“Are you still ill?” Dr. McKay finally asked.
“No,” she said, “but I have a personal emergency.” She looked over at Billy, under the sheet and clearly aroused. “Something’s just come up.” Billy gave her a look. Kate would have smiled, but she felt McKay’s silent curiosity move like a snake through the telephone lines. Stalwart, she kept silent on her end. She watched Billy, who picked up the ends of her hair and held them to his mouth in a kiss.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dr. McKay intoned, and Kate thought he sounded sorry about it, although she wasn’t sure why.
“Because it’s half a day, I’ll be able to catch up easily. Most of my reports on the children are done.”
They discussed scheduling for a few moments, and then Kate was able to hang up. She gave a sigh of relief, and Billy grinned at her. “Playing hookey?” he asked. She nodded. “I’d like to play something else as well,” he said. “And if you don’t agree, I’m afraid I’ll have to call the truant officer and report you.”
Kate giggled. “I’m not in school anymore,” she said.
“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Billy told her.
She supposed if she thought about it, she’d get crazy. After all, here was a man who had slept with half the women in Brooklyn, including her best friend. The idea did make her a bit queasy, so, like some of her young patients, she compartmentalized. She simply put that thought in a mental box, which she closed tightly and put aside. It wasn’t possible that Billy Nolan could fake all of these feelings, or could he? His vast experience showed in the skill he displayed when they made love. Every touch, every movement, felt wonderful, perfect almost. If it got any better, it would be frightening. As it was, it was spooky. He seemed to know almost before she did where to put his hands, how hard to press, where to put his mouth, when to be playful, and when to be intense. If she compared his lovemaking to Michael’s, which she was trying with little success not to do, she felt as if Michael were only a sandwich while Billy was a Thanksgiving feast.
The two of them spent the morning making love. Then Billy made breakfast. He was a good cook, and Kate was hungry. She looked around the sunny living room. “This is a really nice place,” she said as she finished the last of her bacon.
Billy laughed. “You sound surprised,” he said.
Kate blushed. “Have you lived here long?” she asked.
“My dad moved in when he got sick. Emphysema. He didn’t like being alone in our old house after my mom died. He couldn’t work as a fireman anymore, so he began working full-time in the bar, and I helped him turn this into an apartment.”
“So you can cook and do carpentry?” Kate asked as she brought the dirty dishes to the sink.
“Yeah,” he said. He paused and looked away from her. “It was fun to work with my dad, but we barely got the place finished before he died.”
“Was it from the emphysema?” Kate asked.
Billy nodded and grimaced. “Well, complications thereof. It’s a terrible way to die. Terrible to watch.”
“I’m sorry,” Kate said.
Billy shrugged and began to scrape a plate. “You shouldn’t be a fireman and smoke,” he said.
“My father was a policeman who drank, and you shouldn’t do that, either,” Kate said.
Billy nodded, filled the sink with hot water, and put the dishes in to soak. He looked around. “Anyway, I liked this apartment, and when I took over the bar, it seemed handy to live here. This place still reminds me of him.” He turned back to the sink and added some dish detergent. Then he wiped his hands on a paper towel and turned back to her. “Funny thing,” he said. “We just had breakfast, but I’m hungry again.” He raised his brows suggestively, put his arms around her waist, and nuzzled her neck. Kate felt herself responding to the pressure behind her, and with his arms still around her waist, they went back to bed.
It was after their encore, when Billy had gone off to shower, that Kate’s cell phone began to ring. She saw that it was Bina and picked it up.
“Katie? Katie?”
“Yes, of course it’s me,” Kate said.
“Omigod, Katie! He proposed. Just like Elliot said. I couldn’t believe it, but Jack proposed.”
Kate was flooded with a kind of horror as she remembered—for the first time since she had gotten to Billy’s place—that she had originally come to facilitate Bina’s long delayed engagement. Was she a selfish or selfless friend?
“That’s great! That’s really, really great!”
“And you won’t believe this,” Bina continued. “This is how I know Elliot was right. You won’t believe it.”
“Try me,” Kate said dryly, knowing what was coming. Just then her phone starting beeping for a call waiting. She glanced at the caller ID and didn’t recognize the number, so she let it go to voice mail.
“Well, I had a message from Billy breaking up with me—just in time! Jack asked me to marry him right after I checked my voice mail and got Billy’s message!”
“Congratulations. Or best wishes. Or mazel tov,” Kate said. “Your mother must be thrilled, and your father. And me. I’m thrilled for you.”
“I’m thrilled, too. And the best part is that he apologized for what happened, you know, about him not, well, you know. He said he just panicked. He got frightened and couldn’t get the words out.” She paused. “Do you think that’s true?”
“I’m sure that was part of it,” Kate said, remembering his request for exploration. It seemed Bina hadn’t forgotten it, either.
“And he said he wanted just a little more time to, well, you know . . . we’ve been going out so long, and he’s never cheated on me, and he just wanted to be sure. I don’t blame him for that. Would you?”
“No.”
“Yeah, but . . .” Bina paused, then lowered her voice. “But I can’t forget what happened. You know, about . . . well, you can’t imagine how fantastic it was with—”
“I think I can,” Kate said as she glanced toward the bathroom. “Look, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you tonight.”
Kate had just stepped out of the shower herself when her cell phone rang again. She looked at the caller ID and knew she was in trouble. She thought for a moment that she would just ignore it, but she knew Elliot would never give up.
“Where are you?” he asked without any preamble. “You’re not here at work and you’re not at home. You’re out, so you’re not sick. Unless you’re at the doctor’s. Are you at the doctor’s?”
“No,” Kate said. “And I can’t talk right now.” She was self-conscious. She felt Billy listening, even though she wasn’t sure that he was.
“Okay, so where are you?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Kate said, lowering her voice.
“What?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
“Oh, God. You’re in bed with Steven.”
“Not ex
actly,” Kate said.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Elliot asked. “Oh, I knew it. This is really terrible. So you are with Steven.”
“No.”
Elliot paused, doing the math. “But you’re in bed with someone.”
“Yes, Einstein.”
“I can’t tell you how relieved I am,” Elliot said. “At first I was going to call all the hospitals, then, when I thought of Steven, I was going to call all the mental hospitals. But instead of getting neurotic, you just got lucky.”
“This may not qualify as luck,” Kate said.
“Well, girlfriend, I want to hear all of the details the minute you get home.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
We’re coming to a rise. You ready?” Kate nodded.
It was hot, and the heat was already radiating up from the macadam they were skimming over. Kate had been in-line skating once or twice before but had never felt really secure. Now, on this beautifully warm afternoon, everything seemed easy as the two of them skated in Prospect Park, their hands intertwined behind their backs. Billy was a surprisingly good and patient teacher, coaching her until she felt secure enough to lean into her strokes. But the fun was doing it with Billy. He held her with the gentlest pressure, but his support gave her confidence. He warned her of every hill and curve before it came up and tightened his grip when they swooped down an incline. It was exhilarating. Kate believed their skating was almost as sensual as their sex.
“You skate so well,” she murmured as they glided into the tree-shaded part of the road.
“Six years on the hockey team and only one chipped tooth to show for it,” Billy told her.
Kate looked up and smiled at him. She had wondered about the tooth. It was the imperfection that made the rest of his perfection bearable. She was reminded of the Brad Pitt film in which he had played a boxer. Special makeup had transformed his nose and given it a broken jauntiness. Kate had read somewhere that more women found him attractive in that movie than in any other.
“I like that chipped tooth,” was all she said and then felt his arm push her slightly. She thought for a moment it was a reaction to her compliment, but, “Eyes forward,” Billy said as he avoided a stumbling skater, and then moved Kate smoothly through a crowd of children crossing the road ahead of them. Out of the shaded alley, the sun beat down fiercely, but their gathering speed created a pleasant breeze. Once they were on the flat open stretch, they really began to move.
“I can see you’ve had a lot of practice,” she noted while she kept her face forward as instructed.
“Hey,” Billy said, “you’re no virgin yourself.”
“I wasn’t any good,” she told him truthfully. “It’s because of you.”
Everything was different because of him. It had been over a week since Jack’s return and Kate’s visit to Billy, and in that time she had spent every free moment with him. The first weekend had been spent being deliciously idle. Then, after work on Monday, he had made her dinner. She’d stayed at his place, but the following evening—traditionally a slow night at the bar—he had come to her house and they’d eaten takeout pizza and one of her great salads. And they’d been together ever since. She had seen Elliot at school but had ducked him, her friend Rita, and the entire Brooklyn cadre. Now they were spending their second weekend together.
Kate was amazed by how much she and Billy had in common. It wasn’t only the French. He had also lost his mother early, although he never spoke about her death. He had spent his teenage years being raised by his father. They were both only children and both orphans.
Kate had to admit that she had been prejudiced about him; he wasn’t a dunce, and he didn’t get by just on his good looks. In fact, if she could put aside his appalling record of conquests, he was the most compatible male companion she had ever spent time with. Kate’s work for the semester was ending, and with more time for shopping and cooking, she found that she enjoyed having Billy to her place for dinner.
Over the past week, when it was Billy’s turn to close the bar, she’d gone to his apartment early and worked or read until he was through. He’d come up intermittently for quick kisses, usually bringing a treat or a drink. On nights he got off early, he’d made the trip to Manhattan, driving into what he referred to as “the city.” Kate remembered when she used to call Manhattan that, and it made her smile every time he said it.
“Another hill,” Billy told her now. “Let’s put our backs into it.”
Kate did. It wasn’t just his skating that was impressive. There was almost nothing about Billy Nolan that did not impress her. He wasn’t at all what she had thought; he didn’t seem glib, or shallow, or arrogant. Not once you knew him. And his affection for her seemed so warm and real. Could he be acting? Kate hated to doubt him. He seemed so sensitive, not only to his own vulnerabilities, as Steven had been, but also to the feelings of others.
The only cloud over her happiness was the nagging thought of the host of women he had previously conquered. In the time she spent away from him, Kate sometimes wondered if all the women he had known had felt like this and, more important, if he had felt just the same about them as he seemed to feel about her. It was hardly the kind of question she could ask, and even if she did, it was not the kind of question that would elicit an honest answer.
They crested the hill, and the long slide down actually made Kate scream, partly with pleasure and partly with fear. Not so different from the way she felt about this relationship. At the bottom of the hill, Billy released one of her hands and coasted over to a bench beside an ice-cream vendor. Just behind them was a field for roller hockey and beyond it a park exit. Kate was grateful for the sit-down. “I’m exhausted,” she admitted.
“So am I,” Billy told her, though she doubted that was true. There didn’t seem to be an ounce of body fat on him, and Kate knew that under his clothes he was lean and powerful without any extra bulk. Thinking of his body gave her a momentary frisson of desire.
“Thirsty?” Billy asked, and she nodded. “Let’s go.” They took off their Rollerblades, put on their shoes, and bundled their gear into his backpack.
They were just leaving the park when her cell phone rang. She pulled it out and saw that it was Elliot. For the last week she had been ducking his calls when she could and had been equally evasive when she saw him at school. She had talked about Bina’s engagement, the shower they were going to throw for her, Elliot and Brice’s plans for the summer—everything but the identity of her new boyfriend. She hadn’t wanted to lie to him, but she knew how strongly he would disapprove of the truth.
“Are you going to pick it up? Or is it another boyfriend?” Billy asked. Just then the phone stopped ringing.
“It’s a he, and he’s a friend, but he’s gay,” Kate told Billy. “Does that count?”
Kate and Billy made their way to Jo’s Sweet Shop for some ice cream. Jo’s was an institution, the old-time confectionary where parents brought their kids for hot chocolate after winter skating and for sundaes when the weather turned warm. Kate had always envied the kids who got taken to Jo’s. A game broke, and behind them an after-the-skating/roller hockey crowd complete with blades, skates, and Prospect Park parents swarmed in to get drinks and ice cream to cool off. With the usual pattern of bullying, the bigger kids elbowed the smaller, some parents pushed ahead of other parents, and chaos reigned. Billy and Kate watched as a seven- or eight-year-old boy was virtually trampled. He began to cry.
“Oh, God!” Kate cried. She worked her way over to him, knelt, and put her arm around him. “Oh, sweetie. Are you hurt?”
“He stepped on me!” the boy sobbed, pointing upward. Kate looked up at a big hulk of a teen hockey guy still in his gear. From low vantage point, the guy looked like a giant. But Billy grabbed him by the back of his hockey shirt and tugged him.
“See? He’s gone now.” Kate comforted the child.
People began screaming their orders. “Two cookies ’n cream sugar cones with sprinkles!”
r /> “A vanilla Coke!”
“Three large chocolate cones and an iced tea!”
The shouted orders were almost drowned out by the kids’ excited yelling and by loud complaints about people pushing ahead and whose turn it was. The adolescent working behind the counter was clearly overwhelmed by the crowd. Kate reunited the little boy with his dad, while the poor soda jerk tried and failed to gain control. With more parkgoers pushing in from the back, those in the front got even rowdier. “Please form a line!” the teen shouted desperately. No one was listening.
Billy returned to Kate’s side. He positioned her at the entrance to the work space behind the counter. “This is madness,” he said. Then he leapt over the counter and moved to the center, facing out to the crowd.
“All right,” he began in a voice loud enough to be heard all the way into the park. “All right now! Kids with hockey sticks on the left. Kids with skates on the right.”
There was silence for a moment, and then pushing and shoving began as the crowd tried to part.
“Keep it down! I mean it!”
As if he were Moses and the crowd were the Red Sea, his will was done. Kate smiled as the two lines formed. Billy leaned toward the poor, overwhelmed kid in the apron. “You take the so-called adults and I’ll do the Mighty Ducks.”
The teen nodded and began taking orders from the line on the right. Billy looked at the children and gestured to the eight-year-old who had been crying. “Service first to the player who was body-checked.”
His dad brought the little boy up to the counter. Kate couldn’t help but glow. Billy leaned toward the little boy. “What position do you play?” he asked him.
“Goalie,” he replied, and looked at his father as if he weren’t completely sure.
“Your lucky day!” Billy exclaimed. “Goalies get free cones! Wanna double scoop?”
The teenager behind the counter gave him a look of “No way.” Billy ignored him, took out his wallet, and placed it beside the ice-cream tubs. “What’s it gonna be?” The little boy asked for a vanilla cone with sprinkles and hooted with joy when he saw the double dipping he received. Billy moved to the next in the line.