His Sleeping Beauty

by Carol Grace

  “They ought to feel better knowing you’re learning to swim.”

  “Maybe they ought to, but they wouldn’t. You don’t know my parents,” she muttered. “Worrying about me is their full-time job.” She walked to the gate, unlatched it and turned. “Anyway, thanks again for the lesson.” How many times had she thanked him? Why couldn’t she just walk away without another glance at that handsome face and that mouthwatering body? Fascination. Male perfection. That was the answer. She was staring at him the way she would stare at a Greek statue. She’d have to be made of stone herself not to notice.

  Only he was real. And so was she. She could still feel his hands on her skin.

  “Till tomorrow,” he said.

  Chapter Five

  Max watched her walk across his lawn and onto her aunt’s property. She had a trim, cute little body, which he’d seen last night, of course, but hadn’t taken advantage of the situation to really look at her while she was undressed. Now, watching her slender legs and her little butt sway gently as she walked, he stood and admired the view until she’d disappeared into Mary’s house.

  Damn, he’d meant to tell her about the sleepwalking. He couldn’t let it go like this. Too dangerous. Maybe she knew. Maybe she didn’t. In any case, he couldn’t rest until he knew she knew and that she was going to do something about it. What that would be, he wasn’t sure. Lock her doors? Set up an alarm system? Sleep with a friend? He wondered if she had a friend to sleep with. She wasn’t every man’s cup of tea, exactly. It would take someone special to appreciate her bookish looks by day and her exotic looks by night. Either day or night, she had guts, he’d give her that.

  Actually he’d give her more than that. First he’d shower and change and go over and take some of the leftover food from his party which was ample for another small feast. It would be a good excuse to see her again. Why did he need an excuse? Why did he want to see her again so soon? He refused to contemplate why. Luckily she’d be gone in a week. So what harm did it do to get to know her a little bit? After that, he’d never see her again.

  Maybe she’d rather be alone, he thought, an hour later, as he knocked on her back door, with a heavy paper bag full of leftovers and, a bottle of wine. Or maybe she’d gone out. Maybe she was pretending she wasn’t home. Maybe she’d had enough of him.

  But whether she had or not, she finally came to the door, dressed in her usual baggy shirt and shapeless pants, her hair pulled back from her face and her eyes magnified by her huge steel-rimmed glasses.

  “Oh,” she said, “it’s you.”

  “Were you expecting someone else?”

  “No, but…”

  “But you didn’t know how neighborly life in the suburbs could be, did you? Neighbors attacking your tree, then dropping in, giving parties, invading your space and luring you to their swimming pool. Look, I’m probably interrupting, but I had so much food left over from my party, I thought maybe, if you haven’t had dinner, you might like some grilled salmon and asparagus and mushroom turnovers and a glass of wine or two. I don’t think you got a chance to eat much at the party yesterday.”

  She stood in the doorway looking flustered. “No, that’s right, but, I couldn’t possibly…” Was she ever going to invite him in? Didn’t look that way. “Here,” he said, holding out the paper bag.

  “Would you like to come in?” she asked finally as he propped his foot in the door.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” he said.

  He was in. He felt like pumping his fist in the air. Like it was a major triumph to be allowed to offer her a free, delicious dinner. She was the strangest woman he’d ever met. He really had no idea why he was there at all.

  He’d never had to work so hard to share a dinner with someone. Was it him? Or would she be this way with anyone? It was enough to shake an ordinary man’s confidence in himself. But Max was not an ordinary man and he was determined to get to the bottom of this woman’s problem.

  Maybe she hesitated because it wasn’t her house. Or maybe she didn’t want him there under any circumstances. He usually didn’t get that reaction from women. Usually he was the one retreating, the one who was running from involvement. He was the one making up excuses. Was that really why he was there? Because she was a challenge? Sarah made it clear she wasn’t thrilled to see him again. That bothered him for some reason. He wanted to know why. He thought they were getting along so well. Was it something her aunt had told her about him or did she just hate all divorce lawyers? Some people did.

  It was too bad if Sarah didn’t want him there. There was all this great food and wine, and he’d be damned if he’d eat it by himself. Not when her aunt has specifically asked him to look out for her. As if she’d read his mind, Sarah took the containers out of the bag and spread the food out on the kitchen table. Then she looked up at him.

  “What did my aunt tell you about me?” she asked. Her nose was wrinkled as if bracing herself for the worst. She had a very cute nose, he noticed. Now if only she could get rid of the thick glasses and the baggy clothes. He knew she had nothing to hide. He’d seen her in her nightgown, in next to nothing after her fall into the pool, and in her swimsuit. She had great legs, a cute little butt, small but perfect breasts, all of which he’d had a chance to admire during her swimming lesson. He could hardly wait for the next opportunity for her to remove her clothes. And he’d only known her for two days.

  He took a deep breath. He had to tell her. He had to tell her now.

  “I’ll tell you what she didn’t tell me,” he said.

  She grabbed the wine bottle he’d brought and inserted the opener into the cork as if her life depended on it. As if she didn’t want to hear what he was going to say. Did she suspect? She said nothing. She didn’t even look at him. Wasn’t she curious?

  “That you sleepwalk,” he said.

  She set the bottle down with a bang and clapped her hand to her mouth. “Oh, no. I don’t believe it.”

  “Yes. The night before last you came to my garden in your nightgown. You were asleep.”

  Her face flushed. She looked so distressed he wondered if he should have told her after all. “I’m so embarrassed. I thought I was over it.”

  “So it’s happened before?”

  “When I was a child. It wasn’t bad enough I’d wake up choking and wheezing with asthma. Even when I was breathing normally and free from attacks, I’d sometimes get up in the night and rearrange the dolls in my room. When I woke up in the morning I didn’t remember a thing. I thought they’d moved around on their own. They were so real to me. I don’t think I ever left the house while sleeping or my parents would have panicked. But since I grew up, it’s only happened a few times, when I’m in a new place, or under stress. What, uh, what did I do, where did I go?” she asked, her face pale.

  “Nothing much. You were just wandering in my garden behind the house. Then you went home, with a little help from me.”

  “You took me home? Why didn’t you say something to me?” she asked.

  “I’d heard somewhere it’s dangerous to wake the sleepwalker.”

  “I mean yesterday.”

  “I was waiting for the right opportunity. And just in case, I was watching your house last night. You didn’t come outside.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” she said, biting her lower lip. “You’ve saved me twice in the space of two days.”

  “My pleasure,” he said, pouring wine into a glass and handing it to her. “Oh, yes, while you were sleeping, you gathered some eucalyptus nuts from my tree on the ground behind my house.”

  She nodded slowly, her eyebrows drawn together in concentration. “The ones on the bedside table. I wondered how they got there. I love the smell. It’s so pungent. The oil from the leaves is used to make medicine, you know. And the wood is useful, too, for lumber. The trees came from Australia. They call them Gum treess. The first mention of eucalyptus in California is in an article about a man named W. C. Walker who had a nursery in San Francisco and pl
anted some eucalyptus seeds. It was 1850-something, no wait—” She broke off with a sheepish smile as if she was afraid she was boring him. “But that’s probably more than you wanted to know about eucalyptus trees. I get carried away with history.”

  “You make it interesting.”

  “I hope so, because it is interesting to me. All the little details. But not to most people. I forget everyone doesn’t share my fascination with the past. Some people call it an obsession. But there are some wonderful stories. I don’t know when to stop, so you wouldn’t want to get me started.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I love history and I could go on and on. Just drop a name or a famous place and I know how it got there. I get so wound up I can’t resist telling the story until I’ve put everyone to sleep. That’s why—” She stopped and sipped her wine thoughtfully.

  “Anyway, back to my sleepwalking. It’s not dangerous to wake a sleepwalker. That’s a misconception. So if I ever do it again, I mean if you see me out gathering nuts in the middle of the night or any other activity, please wake me up.”

  “I will. I definitely will. Any suggestions?”

  “Just give me a little shake or whatever.”

  “Whatever?” he asked. “There’s a legend, isn’t there, or is it a fairy tale? How does the prince wake Sleeping Beauty?” he asked, feigning innocence. He liked to see her blush. He liked watching her when she was caught off guard.

  “Oh, uh, I don’t know.” She turned her back to him. Why didn’t she just say he woke her with a kiss? Didn’t she know or was she really that shy?

  “Just in case,” Sarah continued, “so you don’t have to worry, I’m going to move downstairs to Aunt Mary’s guest room and lock the doors at night. But now that I’ve settled in to her house, I’ll be okay. Don’t feel you have to stay outside watching for me.” She laughed lightly as if it was a ridiculous idea, but he wasn’t so sure, given the swimming pool incident.

  “The gate to my pool is locked,” he said, “in case you’re worried. And I’m a night owl anyway, so if you do come, I’ll see you and I’ll be sure to wake you this time. If only I knew how the prince did it.” He rubbed his chin and gave her an inquiring look as if he really needed to know.

  She avoided his glance by opening a cabinet to take out some plates and then by carefully filling the salt and pepper shakers. Maybe she remembered that he’d kissed her. Maybe not. In any case, the word kiss had not come up. But he couldn’t keep from staring at her lips, remembering, thinking, feeling that kiss.

  “Thanks for helping me out,” she said, turning her attention to the food he’d brought. “And thanks for all this. It looks wonderful.” She set the table with brightly colored place mats and casual china with hand-painted flowers on it along with heavy silverware, but she had a faraway look in her eyes as if she was somewhere in history, thinking about something else, some other time.

  “Look,” he said, putting his hand on her arm, hoping to bring her back to the present. “I hope I did the right thing by telling you. I certainly didn’t mean to worry you over nothing.”

  “Nothing?” she said, looking down at him with a worried frown. “I was wandering in your yard. Trespassing. What if you hadn’t been there to bring me home? What if I’d walked out into someone else’s property?” Her forehead was creased with fine lines.

  “But you didn’t. From what you say, it’s probably not going to happen again.”

  She nodded, but he couldn’t tell if she was convinced. He divided the food onto their plates and was pleased to see her sit down across from him and start eating. As for him, it sure beat eating alone, he realized with a start. He usually ate dinner in front of the TV. He thought he didn’t need anyone around on a regular basis. He didn’t know the meaning of the word lonely. He probably didn’t need anyone around on a regular basis. But just this once, it wasn’t bad. Not bad at all. He watched her when she wasn’t looking and she seemed to enjoy the food. If only for that, he was glad he’d come over tonight.

  “This is very good,” she said, as if she, too, was surprised at how pleasant it was to share dinner with someone. “I didn’t know I was hungry. I just hope I didn’t spoil your party yesterday.” She set her fork on the table and looked earnestly into his eyes. He realized she’d taken off her glasses and her eyes were huge and expressive. Fascinating change. He couldn’t tear his gaze away.

  “You added a little drama, that’s all. And it wasn’t your fault. It was mine for allowing the atmosphere to deteriorate that way so that you got knocked in. Everyone was relieved to hear you were all right. You are all right, aren’t you?”

  “Fine. I feel like I’m completely recovered. I’m just having a little trouble concentrating. But that has nothing to do with falling into the pool. You see, I thought it would be good for me to get away from the office, but I didn’t realize what a different world it is down here, and I wonder if I’m really going to get anything done after all.”

  “Would that be so bad if you took the week off and didn’t get anything done but learning to swim?”

  “Yes, it would. I have deadlines. I have projects. The people I work with expect a lot from me. My boss is great. And I can’t let her down, especially when she’s got personal problems. And we’re in the middle of a fund-raising campaign for the Historical Society.” She stopped for a moment. “In a week?” she asked, as if the words had just sunk in. “You think I could learn to swim in a week?”

  He grinned. “Well, you might not qualify for the Olympics, but with my expert teaching methods, we might be able to make you water-safe.”

  Sarah smiled at his attempt at self-deprecating humor and nodded. He really was a nice guy after all. Besides being a bonafide hunk, and easy to look at across the table, he’d been thoughtful enough to bring her dinner. He didn’t just leave it on the doorstep, he stayed to share it with her. She was having a good time. She thought he was, too. Besides all this, he was actually teaching her to swim. He’d gone out of his way to invite her to his party. The accident wasn’t his fault. Maybe her aunt had encouraged him to be friendly, but he’d done it. And most of all, he’d brought her back home from sleepwalking.

  Sleepwalking? She was shocked to hear about that. What next? She’d gotten over her asthma attacks only to find she’d taken up sleepwalking after all these years? Another thing to keep from her parents. She could just hear their cries of dismay. Their insistence that she move back to her apartment. That she not take chances.

  “I’d like to be water-safe,” she said, trying to forget her parents and putting her other problems aside for the moment. “As for taking the week off completely, I can’t do that. Besides deadlines on the papers I’m writing for our society’s publications, I’m giving a presentation next weekend at the society’s annual meeting. With my boss out sick lately I’ve taken over some of the administrative stuff. If I hadn’t promised Aunt Mary…”

  “Wait a minute, you’re not going to back out and go back home, are you? Just when you’re making such headway in your swimming?”

  “I’m not backing out,” she assured him. “I’m sure by tomorrow I’ll be able to get some work done on my paper and on my presentation. Also won’t the neighborhood quiet down come Monday when everyone goes back to work?”

  “Not if you’re referring to me,” he said. “Because I work at home a lot, and I generally meet clients in the evening at their office or my home after work. But rarely on a Sunday. I promise I’ll talk softly and even better, I won’t touch my chain saw again, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Let’s see if I’ve got this straight. Aunt Mary warned me you were going to cut her tree down which isn’t really true, so what did she tell you about me?” She held her breath, expecting the worst. Surely her aunt wouldn’t have mentioned the asthma or Sarah’s parents’ excessive warnings against stress and anxiety and any activity that could set off another attack.

  “Only that you needed to get out more. True?”
>
  “Well, she didn’t mean in the middle of the night. And she didn’t mean you had to invite me to your party.”

  “No, I improvised. Give me a little credit for coming up with my own ideas. Where I come from when somebody has a party, it’s only right to invite the neighbors, or they might complain about the noise.”

  “Where do you come from?” she asked, getting up to make coffee. She didn’t ask if he wanted any. She hoped he did, because to her surprise she didn’t want him to leave right away. She had no idea if he was ready to leave or if he was still enjoying this, this…interlude. She didn’t even know why she was enjoying it so much. She just was. She barely knew the man, but she wanted to know him better. She felt at ease in his company, a real rarity.

  It felt good to share food and conversation with him. And she wasn’t ready for the evening to be over. She, the ultimate loner, had to admit to herself that she craved company tonight. And not just any company. He was special. He was different from anyone she’d ever known. He teased her. He treated her like she was normal. That was a first. She’d always been different. How different he didn’t really need to know.

  First, she was used to doing everything alone and she liked it that way. She worked alone. Ate alone. Slept alone. She didn’t need anybody around. In fact, she’d always liked being alone.

  Until now. What had gotten into her? It had started with spring this year and a longing for something she couldn’t identify. She was constantly staring out the window, being startled when spoken to, daydreaming. No wonder she was behind in her work. Then she came here and met Max and it further discombobulated her life and her routine. And there was the sleepwalking, a sign all was not normal in her psyche. But so far no attacks. Her inhaler was in the bottom drawer. She prayed it would remain there.

  She measured the water and the coffee and waited for his answer. He owed her that. Some kernels of knowledge about himself. After all, he knew two of her dirty little secrets. One, she didn’t know how to swim, and two, she was asthmatic. So what was his background? What made him become a divorce lawyer?