Phantom Waltz

by Catherine Anderson

  Bethany clung to him and vowed that they would “get there” far sooner than he dreamed. “I love you, Ryan. Please, be happy. I am. So very happy.”

  Bethany propped her arms on her desk, ignoring the muted click and hum of the computer hard drive perched beside her. To heck with filling out purchase orders. She had more important fish to fry, namely learning all she could about giving a man great sex. There was no listing for a therapist in the yellow pages. Bethany ran her finger down the S’s, praying to find SEX in all caps. She needed an expert, someone she could pump for information who wouldn’t betray her confidence.

  “Morning, sis.”

  Bethany slapped the phone book closed and glanced up from her desk to see Jake standing in her office doorway. “Jake!” She clamped a hand over her heart. “You startled me out of my skin.”

  He gave her a slow once-over. “How goes it with you and Ryan?”

  “Fine. Great. He, um—we’re doing fine.” She was developing a headache that felt as if it might split her skull, but that was beside the point. “I, um … how are you?”

  “Good.” He nodded at the phone book. “Can I help you find something? You were looking pretty intense when I interrupted you. What’s up?”

  “Nothing. I was just—nothing’s up.”

  He searched her gaze. Then, in a low, soft voice, he asked, “You happy, Bethie? That’s all I need to know, that he makes you happy.”

  There was no mistaking the knowing look in her brother’s eyes. She’d told her family that she was going to Ryan’s for dinner last night. Jake had probably tried to call her later in the evening to make sure she’d gotten home safely. When she didn’t answer the phone, he must have concluded that she was spending the night at Ryan’s place. Armed with that knowledge, it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. That was a little embarrassing. But if she meant to marry Ryan, she supposed she would have to get used to it.

  “Yes, he makes me very happy,” she finally replied. “So happy, Jake. I never thought—well, you know—that I could have a life with him. But he’s convinced me I can. You know he bought Wink back for me.”

  Jake raised his eyebrows. “You’re kidding! He did?”

  Bethany might have been fooled by her brother’s feigned surprise if Ryan hadn’t told her that Jake had played a role in locating the mare. “It was so good to see her again, Jake. You just can’t know. We spent half the evening in her stall. Ate dinner out there and everything.”

  “I’ll bet Ryan loved that.” Jake chuckled. “I’ll let you tell Pop about Wink, by the way. He’s going to burst a vessel.”

  Bethany sighed. “Yes, well—maybe I’ll wait. Kind of hit him with one thing at a time. It’ll probably be a big enough shock when I tell him I’m getting married.”

  “Oh?” Jake looked surprised again. “This is news.”

  “Liar. I know you’ve been talking with Ryan. He told me last night that you hooked him up with the contractors who remodeled his kitchen and that you helped him track down Hunsacker so he could buy Wink back for me.”

  Jake chuckled. “On that note, I’m heading downstairs to crack the whip.”

  “Without congratulating me?”

  “Congratulations. Just understand, if he doesn’t treat you right, you’ll be a young widow.”

  Bethany was still shaking her head when he headed down the hall. She waited a moment, then reopened the phone book, turning back to the list of physicians. There had to be someplace she could go to talk straightforwardly with someone about sex.

  “You seen the coffee filters?”

  Bethany jumped, slapped the phone book closed again, and glanced up to see Kate, one of the store’s employees, in the doorway, holding a coffeepot full of water in one hand. “We have extras filters here in the cabinet.”

  Bethany hurried over to open the metal door. While waiting, Kate stepped into the office and set the coffeepot on the edge of the desk. After locating the filters, Bethany grabbed a new package and turned to hold them out.

  “Thanks,” Kate said, reaching over the desk.

  A tall, slender woman with lovely features and gleaming auburn hair that hung like a veil to her shoulders, she had always reminded Bethany a little of Cher—a very unpolished and shopworn version. Her heavily made-up brown eyes were bloodshot this morning, and she flashed a strained smile that had “hangover” written all over it. According to Jake, the woman drank heavily and slept with anything in trousers, but she was a good employee who showed up for her shift and came in on her days off when others called in sick. Bethany didn’t usually work the floor, which made it difficult to cultivate friendships with the downstairs help, but she’d always liked Kate, sensing she was a warm, genuine person, for all her rough edges.

  Kate retrieved the pot of water from the desk. “Too much happy last night,” she said in a whiskey-and-smoke voice. “I need a good jolt of caffeine to jump-start the old bod.”

  “I know that feeling,” Bethany said. “Only I don’t need too much happy to make me feel that way. I wake up with a dead battery no matter what.”

  Kate spied the ashtray Bethany kept on her desk for any “no-smoking” offenders to snub out their cigarettes. She glanced over her shoulder at the open door. “Say?” she said conspiratorially. “Would it bother you if I closed that and sneaked a couple of drags? Jake’s got a nose like a bloodhound.”

  “I suppose I can be your partner in crime for one cigarette.”

  Kate put the pot back on the desk, gave Bethany a grateful look, and closed the door. Smiling as she plucked a pack of Marlboros from her shirt pocket, she said, “You’re okay. Thanks. I woke up late, you know? Didn’t get my coffee, didn’t get my smokes. I feel like I was rode hard and put away wet.”

  Kate looked that way too. Bethany bit back a smile, watching as the other woman fished in the hip pocket of her skintight blue jeans for her lighter. With a flick, she inhaled gratefully, then exhaled through her nose. “Man, I needed that.”

  Bethany enjoyed the smell of cigarettes while they were being smoked. It was the stench of stale smoke that turned her stomach. “I tried smoking once.”

  Kate raised her eyebrows. “I never figured you for the type.”

  Bethany sat back in her chair, about to launch into a comical account of her brief walk on the wild side in college—or in her case, her brief roll on the wild side—with a tight-knit group of female paraplegic friends. As they had all gone through school on special grants for the handicapped, they’d been short on money, so they’d had much more in common than just their physical limitations.

  But before Bethany could speak, it hit her like a fist between the eyes that Kate was just the kind of person she’d been praying to find—an expert on sex. And here she was, standing right under Bethany’s nose.

  “Say, Kate?” Bethany thought quickly. “Are you busy today after work?”

  “Why? You need something extra done? I gotta tell you, I have a bitch of a headache. Tomorrow would be a better day for me.”

  “No, no, nothing like that. I just thought—you know—that maybe we could go have coffee together someplace after work and chat for a while.”

  Kate frowned. “Have I screwed up? You’re not gonna can me, are you?”

  Bethany couldn’t think of a reasonable explanation for the sudden friendliness so she decided the simple truth was best. “No, nothing like that. I haven’t been here very long, and I haven’t made many friends yet. Being stuck up here on the second floor most of the time, I can’t even get to know the people who work here very well. I’ve got a problem right now that needs solving, and it’s not the sort of thing I’d feel comfortable discussing with one of my brothers. It would be really nice to be able to talk it over with another woman, and I thought maybe you might have a few minutes to spare.”

  Kate glanced uneasily toward the door. “Jake know about this?”

  “No. I’m twenty-six years old. I don’t need permission from my brother to have coffee with
a friend.”

  Kate raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t figure you for that old.” She shrugged. “Sure. Okay. You buyin’?”

  Bethany laughed. “I’ll even throw in a piece of pie.”

  “You’re on. My stomach should handle pie by then.”

  After work that evening, Bethany waited in her van. When the other woman finally emerged from the store, she honked to get her attention. Kate waved and broke into a long-legged jog. Once in the van, she rolled down her window, lighted a cigarette, and said, “Way cool. I’ve never seen the inside of one of these jobbers. You’re all set up to roll.”

  Bethany considered mentioning that no one was allowed to smoke in her van, but then she decided it was a fair trade-off for the information she needed. “Where sounds good? There’s a Denny’s restaurant a couple of blocks over.”

  Kate sighed. “I don’t suppose I could work a trade, could I? A beer instead of coffee and pie.”

  “A beer?”

  “Yeah. I know a quiet little place we can go.”

  Bethany would have preferred going to a restaurant. Because she had to adjust her daily dosage of anticoagulant if she drank much alcohol, she seldom imbibed. Kate also liked to party, and her definition of a quiet place might differ greatly from most people’s. She hesitated.

  “Come on,” Kate urged. “Live a little.”

  Ten minutes later, Bethany was entering a seedy-looking place called Suds. A shotgun floor plan sported a bar along one darkly paneled wall, tables along the other, with two pool tables, end to end, at center stage. Kate pointed Bethany toward a table and stepped up to the bar as if she owned the joint.

  “Two Buds, Mike! Hold the head.”

  “Gotcha!” the bartender called back.

  Bethany scooted a chair out of her way and drew up to the table. After withdrawing her wallet, she set her purse on the floor at her feet. The next table over was occupied by two men wearing flannel work shirts and jeans, the sawdust on their clothing earmarking them as mill workers. Bethany paid them little notice as she watched Kate advance toward her with two full beer mugs clutched in her hands.

  “I was supposed to buy,” Bethany said as Kate set a mug in front of her.

  “I’ll let you get the next round,” Kate assured her as she sat down.

  The next round? Uh-oh. Bethany took a sip of beer and smiled. “Mmm. This hits the spot. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was.”

  Kate took a long pull from her glass. White foam mustached her upper lip when she finally came up for air. “God, I’ve been dying all day for some hair off the dog that bit me. You’re a champ, Bethany. I know this isn’t your thing.”

  “I don’t know. It’s rather nice, actually. I expected some-place a little livelier. You strike me as the type who enjoys large groups of people—with the ratio of males to females making it easy for an attractive single woman to score.”

  “God, do you have me pegged, or what?” Kate rubbed her temple and sighed. “I’m not feeling up to snuff today. Check in tomorrow night, and you’ll see lively.” After taking another swig of beer, she leaned forward over her mug as she lit another cigarette. “So—what’s the problem you need to talk about?”

  Bethany took a big gulp of beer for fortification. “Sex.”

  Kate shrugged, blew out smoke, and said, “Yeah. What about it?”

  Bethany swallowed more beer. “Don’t laugh. I’m really in need of some advice. I’m, um—how shall I put this?—a novice, I guess you might say.” She patted the arm of her chair. “Wheels have a way of putting a damper on a woman’s love life, and I’m only just now starting my first relationship.”

  Kate narrowed her eyes slightly, the exhaled smoke forming a blue cloud in front of her long, pretty face. “Jesus, honey. That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. Twenty-six years without sex? That sucks.”

  “Yes, well. I only count the years since puberty. It doesn’t seem quite so pathetic that way.”

  “That’s still a long dry spell.”

  Bethany took another sip of beer and smiled. “I’ve survived. It was lonely sometimes.” She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, to heck with it. You’re absolutely right. It sucked.”

  Kate chuckled. “Hey, without sex, what’s it all about?”

  “Exactly,” Bethany agreed. “Which brings me to my problem. I enjoyed most of it immensely, but toward the end—” She broke off and flapped her hand. “For some paraplegics, the finale isn’t all that it should be, and it seems that I’m one of them.”

  Kate studied her solemnly. “You can’t get off?”

  Bethany glanced around to be sure no one else could overhear. Then she stared into her beer for a long moment. After taking three huge gulps and wiping her mouth, she said, “Nope, I can’t get off. And I really, really want to keep the guy. I love him a lot, and all the rest was really nice.”

  “Just no bang at the end.” Kate sat back in her chair, took a deep drag from her cigarette, and then said, “Shit.” She regarded Bethany for a moment. “Well, there’s worse things. A lot of women don’t get off. They go their whole lives faking orgasm, and they seem to get along fine.”

  Bethany smiled. “You settle for what life dishes out, I guess, and you learn to be happy with what you have. That’s the way I look at it, anyway, and overall, I think I’m very lucky.” She shrugged. “I just want to keep it that way. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t want to lose him.”

  “Can’t blame you there.”

  “During my lunch hour, I stopped by the video store and rented When Harry Met Sally so I can brush up on my—well, that part goes without saying. But movies and books fall a little short when it comes to giving detailed explanations of how a woman can give a man pleasure. I really, really want to be good in bed. As good as I can be, at any rate, given my physical limitations, and I thought you might know a few tricks you might share with me. Like what to wear, for instance. Or maybe some special tips about how to do things he’ll really like. I need a crash course.”

  Kate pursed her lips. “Damn, honey, you don’t ask for much. It’s a little hard to share twenty years of experience over a few beers.”

  “I know I’m asking a lot. But I’m desperate. I understand the basics, but I need to take a giant leap from beginner to intermediate, fast. I want it to be as perfect and wonderful for him as I can make it. You know? With plenty of added pizzazz to compensate for my failings, so to speak.”

  Kate sighed. “Can you wear a garter belt and nylons? Most guys really go for those. Meet him at the door wearing that and a lacy black bra. If he’s got blood flowing in his veins, his eyes will pop out of his head. If I walked in here dressed that way on a busy Saturday night, I’d have comers lined up out to the parking lot.”

  Bethany laughed. “That and nothing else?” She’d thought of wearing a lacy peignoir, but nylons and a garter belt had never entered her mind. This was exactly what she needed, pointers from a woman who knew the ropes. “I’d feel sort of silly.”

  “Not for long.” Kate winked at her. “Try it, honey. Works like a charm. Guys are weird. If that doesn’t work, fix dinner for him wearing nothing but an apron. Just remember to turn off all the burners when he decides he can’t wait for dessert.”

  “Nothing but an apron?”

  “High heels are a nice touch. Why guys love them, I haven’t a clue. I once accidently nailed a fellow in the ass with a spike, believe it or not. He never even broke rhythm.”

  Bethany laughed so hard at the picture that came into her mind, she had to wipe tears from under her eyes. “Oh, Kate, you’re wonderful. Unfortunately, I can’t wear high heels.”

  “Sure you can. You don’t have to parade around in them to get his motor purring. Just seeing them on your feet will do it.”

  Bethany leaned closer. “Another question. You watched When Harry Met Sally, right? In your opinion, was that a pretty accurate portrayal of how a woman looks and sounds when she’s having an orgasm?”

&nbs
p; Kate rolled her eyes. “You’re really without a clue. He won’t grade your performance, honey. Lesson number one about men. They all want to believe they’re God’s gift to women. Fake it as best you can, then tell him he’s fabulous. He’ll walk on water for a week.”

  Bethany laughed again. She didn’t know if it was the beer or if Kate was just funny.

  Kate finished her drink and went to get another round. When she returned, Bethany drew a ten from her wallet and pushed it across the table. “The next one’s on me.”

  “Thanks.” Kate stabbed the bill with a fingertip, then walked it around in a circle. “I know this is a really personal question, but I’m going to ask. Are you totally—you know—numb down there?”

  Heat crept up Bethany’s neck, and she glanced over her shoulder again. The two mill workers appeared to be intent on their own conversation, and the bartender was busy cleaning the taps. “Not totally,” she said softly. “I have some feeling here and there. It’s just—well, spinal injuries are funny. If your nerve endings are impaired, as some of mine are, having sensation in a certain spot doesn’t necessarily mean that part of the body will function normally. I have feeling in my buttocks, for instance, but not all the muscles there will flex.”

  “Hmm.” Kate frowned. “How many times have you tried for the big whammy?”

  Bethany remembered that horrible moment when Ryan had looked into her eyes and asked if it was hurting. To her dismay, she felt her chin wobble. She took several more gulps of beer. “Only once.”

  “Only once?” Kate rolled her eyes. “Bethany, lots of women don’t get off the first few times.”

  “They don’t?”

  “Heck, no. I didn’t, anyway. I was too uptight, worrying about this and that and feeling self-conscious. Tension and orgasm don’t ride double. You know those romances where the couple gets in a huge fight, and the guy muscles the woman into bed when she’s still spitting mad?” Kate shook her head. “He kisses her, and she swoons. That’s bullshit. At least it doesn’t work that way for me. Some guy tries that when I’m pissed, and he’ll end up wishing he hadn’t. Sex doesn’t usually work that way for a woman.”