Love Notes

by Savannah Kade

  “Then, my junior year, I tried out for the Houston Ballet. I got into the chorus, and I wanted to go. Jeff didn’t balk at all. We finally figured out that he and Jordan would stay at school for one last semester, while I started work. He could graduate early with his credits and pick up a few extra courses in Houston. We did that for two months. Then they were coming out to see me at Thanksgiving, and got hit by a drunk driver on the way.”

  Next to her, TJ stiffened. It was a normal reaction, no one wanted to hear about a beloved husband and toddler getting hit by a drunk driver.

  “He hit the side of their car, and totaled it. Of course, being drunk, he walked away.” That was what still got her. She could now calmly speak the words that her husband and child had died, but the anger still came when she spoke of the other man walking away.

  She had to get rid of it, she knew, or it would eat her soul. It almost had. “Somehow I stayed with the Ballet and managed to ignore that I’d ever had a child and husband. I threw myself into the work, got a few lead roles, then made principle. After the first year, I just needed sex. That’s all it’s been since. No one’s going to replace Jeff, so I’ve never tried for anything more than a one-night stand.”

  “And that makes you a slut?”

  “I was pregnant at eighteen, and I’ve had nothing but one night stands for seven years now. I think I qualify.” She finally turned to look at him. To watch him digest what she’d said. She didn’t wait long. “So, how did you get broken?”

  “Car accident.”

  Just those two words. After she’d told her whole story. She wasn’t going to stand for that. “You’ll have to do better.”

  He took a breath, still seeming stiff, “I was partying, and not paying attention, and this semi rear-ended the car. I should have gotten out of the way, but I didn’t react fast enough.”

  He flinched even as he said it, and she frowned at him. Then she remembered when he’d stiffened. Her breathing sped up, and she hopped off the couch. “You were drunk!”

  He nodded.

  “You—” But there was nothing else to say.

  Chapter 16

  TJ hauled himself into his chair and then sped down the hall after her. She hated him, and she should. So he didn’t knock, just opened her bedroom door to find her packing.

  She looked up at him like a wounded deer, but her hands never stopped folding clothes and clearing out. “I can’t believe I’ve been here, driving you to therapy and everything, when you did that.”

  “I didn’t kill anyone, except almost myself.”

  She came around the bed like an avenging angel, forcing him to back up. Then she closed the door in his face.

  He didn’t hear it lock, so he tried again. This time when it opened he planted himself in the doorway and didn’t move. He even locked the chair.

  “Norah. I’m sorry. But I didn’t kill them.”

  That stopped her. “How do you know? Had you never driven drunk before?”

  He wanted to say no. Oh, how he wanted to, but he couldn’t. “It wasn’t me. I was never in Houston at Thanksgiving.”

  “That’s your defense?”

  She was right, of course. He felt like shit on the bottom of a shoe. His only proof that he hadn’t killed her husband and infant, was not because he couldn’t have but because he hadn’t been in that place at that time. His voice was softer. “It wasn’t me.”

  She just turned back to packing.

  And they had just found their ground again. It was volatile, living with this woman under his roof. “Can we be even? I forgive you for being a tease and—”

  She cut that one at the knees before he even finished. “Your hand down my pants is not anywhere near a comparison to you driving drunk! Drunk drivers ruin lives. I’m sorry if you had some sexual frustrations for a few days.”

  Then she turned her back and shut him out.

  TJ stayed planted in the doorway. “Norah, you have to forgive me.”

  It was worse because she didn’t scream or yell. “No, I don’t.”

  He stayed planted until she had her bags packed. She marched right up to him and faced him in the doorway. “TJ, get out of my way.”

  “No, I’m staying right here.”

  “Get out of my room.”

  He clenched his jaw. He couldn’t let her leave. “It’s my house.”

  “I’ll go out the god-damned window if I have to.”

  “Norah, I am the safest driver out there now. I’ve learned my lesson, better than just about anyone could have. I never hit anyone, though that doesn’t make any of it okay. I know that. But I am the poster boy for not drinking and driving. I’m sorry I can’t bring them back. If I could, I would.”

  He watched as she crumpled, and he caught her when she fell, twisting into her tears, her bag forgotten. He held her and tried to take some of her pain away. “Norah, I know I didn’t deserve to walk away from my accident. I—”

  “That’s the worst part.” Her voice was tinny and thin. “You have to be bad. You have to be evil for what you did, but I know you’re not. You don’t deserve what happened to you.”

  He took a deep breath, and spoke as soothingly as he could. “Yeah, I probably do.” It was the first time he had admitted that, even just to himself. “I made a mistake. A big one, and not the first. It should have only hurt me, but somehow it doesn’t.”

  She sniffed, and her shoulders heaved. “I’m not stupid. But if you’re not evil, and you just made a mistake, then maybe he did, too. Maybe whoever hit them wasn’t evil either, maybe it really was a mistake. But I’ve held so long to hating him. I don’t know if I can forgive him.”

  She was sniffling and crying and he could hardly understand her, but the woman made sense. “Maybe you should. Maybe you can forgive both of us, Norah.”

  He held her tighter, sensing that she needed it, and knowing that he wanted to. His arms were in direct contradiction to his words. “You can leave if you want. I won’t hold you here.”

  She was curled into a tiny ball in his arms, her flexibility making her seem not much bigger than nine-year old Allie. He felt her head shake ‘no’ against his chest, and he was supremely grateful.

  She cried for hours, and he didn’t say anything. She’d held on tight, and he understood. Once again, he realized that maybe she was more broken than he was. That she had been right when she’d slapped him. His instant reaction had been that she was out of line. But the more he’d thought about it, the more he realized that he’d had it coming for a long time.

  Eventually he realized she’d fallen asleep. He was grateful for his strong arms just then. He’d worked out so hard, thinking he’d give people something to look at besides his legs. But now here he was actually finding his strength useful.

  He was lifting her off his lap and onto the bed, when Norah started to wake. His hand shot out to comfort her, smoothing her hair even before his brain registered it. So he simply levered himself up onto the bed next to her. It was only a full size but there was just enough room.

  As he pushed with his hands against the bed, propping himself against the pillows, he felt the pins and prickles. His legs had fallen asleep.

  He sighed, until it hit him.

  Both his legs had fallen asleep.

  Norah curled into him, sleeping soundly despite the light he’d left on. Despite the breakthrough he’d had not inches from her. He smiled to himself. Somehow when the breakthroughs came, Norah was always right beside him. Despite all the trouble she caused, she was some kind of good luck charm.

  His legs hurt like hell, and it felt good.

  Chapter 17

  If someone had told Norah she would finally shed her hate for the man who had killed her family, she would have thought she’d feel free. She didn’t. She felt lost. For so long she had hated this man. Believed he was a cold blooded killer of the worst sort—the careless kind. She had refused to believe he might feel remorse or pain over what he’d done.

  She also felt li
ke a fool for not seeing before that TJ had, of course, been out drunk when he’d had his accident. She’d known the Hewlitt boys since they were little. While she didn’t follow celebrity gossip much at all, she followed Wilder. TJ was at every party, and he always left with the hottest girl. Why she hadn’t put two and two together was beyond her.

  But if she had, she wouldn’t be here.

  She’d woken up in TJ’s arms the next morning. His face was buried in her hair, and he was tucked alongside her. Like they were lovers.

  They weren’t.

  She didn’t want to be his lover. He went through women the way most men changed underwear. Sure, he was on a temporary reprieve, but she had no doubts that, while he would be a safer driver, he would pick up right where he had left off with the female set.

  Norah sighed. It’s not like she was averse to casual sex. Lord knew she’d had enough of it. But she lived here with him; it could never be casual.

  Waking up in his arms had been scary. She wasn’t sure why, only that it was. Also, her face was all puffy from crying in his arms for several hours. He’d been polite enough not to say anything, but she didn’t think he’d offer again.

  So maybe it would be fine.

  She took a deep breath.

  Maybe her thoughts wouldn’t be so scattered in another day or two. Maybe the Titanic would raise itself from the ocean floor.

  At least she’d slept alone last night. She turned the doorknob, letting herself out of her bedroom, hollering exasperatedly. “TJ!? You ready?”

  She had accompanied him to therapy the last several days. He was starting to regain control of his legs—a fact which made him almost too happy to be around.

  He was like a five year old. ‘Look what I can do!’ But she didn’t have it in her heart to begrudge him. And it was interesting to see what he could and couldn’t do.

  The therapist was holding him back, and TJ was pushing forward. She was glad not to be going today. Yesterday he had asked when he got to try standing and walking. So the therapist measured the output of pressure TJ could apply with his feet, then politely pointed out he would fall and crack his head in a heartbeat.

  TJ followed her down the hall, “I hate you.”

  It was casual, but there was a bite to it.

  She was going to pose for Kelsey, for the studio shots, again this morning. As she turned she saw his eyes tracking her pointe shoes.

  His mouth said much the same thing. “I can’t stand on two flat feet. And you’re going to go put all your weight on one toe.”

  His sat still, and she was upset that they weren’t making any progress down the hall. She was twitchy these days. Anything that deviated her from her plans made her uptight. She hadn’t figured that one out either. But TJ was making her twitchy now.

  “So get your butt to therapy so you can do it, too.”

  She turned and walked away.

  His voice followed her. “I have no desire to do that. If I can get on stage and sing, I’ll be happy. If I can dance and jump, I’ll be beyond thrilled.”

  There was a lull, but she should have known that didn’t mean she was safe. Far from it.

  “Speaking of butts.”

  With a huff, she turned, nearly getting herself run over. But TJ managed to stop the chair on a dime; he was in supreme control of it. Maybe to make up for the parts of him he wasn’t in supreme control of. Like maybe his mouth?

  “That little skirt doesn’t cover yours.”

  “It’s not really intended to.” It was a short, purple, knit, sweater skirt that just hugged her hips. It matched the long-sleeved, but very cropped warm-up sweater, and the short, tight leg warmers she was also wearing for the photo-shoot.

  She turned and walked away, but didn’t hear the telltale squish of his tires against floor. She turned, frustrated with him, even as she wasn’t sure why.

  He was sitting there at the back of the hall, grinning. “You can just turn around and keep walking. I’m discovering some benefits to this chair. I’m at ass-height.”

  “TJ!”

  “Hey! I was given very explicit instructions to not attempt to stand up.” He defended himself. “And you come out here in that very short skirt—”

  “I have a dance bottom on under it!” It was just the bottom half of a leotard. It left her midriff bare so she wouldn’t overheat today.

  “Yeah, I know. I can see your little dance bottom under the hem of that thing you’re callin’ a skirt.”

  She sighed again. Not sure if he was talking about the same ‘little dance bottom’ that she was. “It’s not indecent. It’s for dance. What’s an ass but another body part? Lord, the men perform in those tights where you can tell if they’re circumcised or not!”

  “You have an excellent point. So you can just sashay your body parts down the hall, and I’ll watch.”

  “I’m not sashaying!” So, stiff as a board, she marched down the hallway and out the front door.

  She wanted to climb in the driver’s side and steam while she waited, but she couldn’t. Reaching over and flipping on the air conditioner, Norah reminded herself she’d gotten paid for this. Right now, when he was harassing her, it didn’t hurt to think of the money.

  He popped himself into the seat and waited for her to slide into the driver’s seat. “You know, I think you gave my neighbor a good show back there, when you were putting my chair in.”

  “Ah!” She gave up, and turned on him, smacking at his arms while he raised his hands in mock defense, laughing at her all the time.

  He didn’t give up the whole way over. “I want to go with you this morning. You come to therapy with me. I want to go with you.”

  She held her face steady. “You’d be bored.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.”

  She reached over popped him on one of his big, bad biceps at the next stop light.

  “Ow.” He rubbed at the arm.

  “Oh, please, you’re so buff you probably didn’t even feel that!” She popped him again, and he laughed at her.

  They were acting so juvenile. Norah had no idea what had come over her. She expected this from TJ, but not from herself.

  He bugged her all the way there, “Please, Norah, I want to go with you.”

  “No! You are clearly a pest. Kelsey and I are working. Working.”

  But when she got out to unload the chair and wheel it over to his side of the car he changed his tune. “Norah,” his voice was suddenly serious, “Just go straight to the studio. Don’t stop for a soda or anything on the way out or back.”

  Where the hell had that come from?

  She asked him pretty much that.

  He gave her half a grin. “I know I was teasing you, but you’re indecent.” He merely pointed to where a handful of therapists had gathered at the window. He waved to them.

  “I’ll be back when I’m done.”

  “Just go home and change first.”

  She huffed off to meet Kelsey. Damned men.

  The studio was empty this time when she pulled up, and she was grateful that today wasn’t as hot as it had been last time. Still, she was trying to not work up a sweat. She pushed the air conditioner to capacity and started her warm-up. She did it without music, to just a steady rhythm she counted. For the first time in several days she felt like herself.

  Even though she normally didn’t dance in an outfit like this one. She rarely danced with her hair in a pony-tail, especially not when it was this length—the exact right length to whip around in a turn and give her a black eye. Even though there was no music, just being here, dancing, centered her.

  She pulled herself up, her right toe pointed at her left knee, her arms automatically went into position, and she suddenly realized she hadn’t ridden Thunder hell-for-leather since she’d taken up residence at TJ’s. She wasn’t sure why that was, only that it was.

  When she had her pointe shoes on, she spent a few minutes getting accustomed to them. She thought of the junior high class last year. Kel
sey and JD’s daughter Andie was in that class. All the girls balked, but they spent a year practicing, pushing on their toe tips, stretching their ankles and putting weight on them. Just so they could get ready for pointe.

  It made her think of TJ. He had to do his baby steps first. It must be excruciating for a grown man to have to take baby steps, just to take steps at all.

  “Norah!” Kelsey interrupted her thoughts.

  Norah found a smile. “Hey. You ready?”

  “Sure, but you dance in the dark and with no music?” Kelsey cocked her head to the side.

  That brought out a half grin. “Sometimes.”

  “Here,” Kelsey flipped a light on and pulled out the folio she had dragged with her. Without words the two women spread the prints out across the floor.

  Norah was stunned.

  Each picture seemed to capture some expression in her face or body, some detail in her hands or feet. She examined the photos carefully, looking for chinks in her technique. Though she couldn’t find any, even in her hand or leg there was hope or sadness.

  That was damned impressive, and damned scary.

  After that, they got to work. Kelsey snapped picture after picture. All the while she was wondering what she was giving away—what Kelsey would find in her today and capture in the photos.

  Kelsey ran out of film before they ran out of time, and so Norah stayed, ignoring TJ’s warning. She practiced her turns en pointe, working her way to a perfect quadruple pirouette. She was warm and hungry by the time she realized she was running a little late.

  She stepped off the wood floor and into her street shoes before dashing out the front door. Peeling out of the empty lot, Norah headed for TJ’s rehab facility.

  He gave her a dirty look when she got out of the car in her dance gear. She gave him a dirty look back.

  When he hauled himself into the car he started in on her again. “You’re going to get asked out a lot next week.”

  “That’s a bad thing?”

  “Well, they aren’t in it for your sparkling personality.”