Touch Me When We're Dancing

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Touch Me When We're Dancing Page 6

by Suzanne Jenkins


  “Why don’t we put his bed in the alcove and you have the bigger space?”

  “I don’t think that would go over well with Child Protective Services,” she said. “Besides, I want my own private space. He won’t be walking through it to get to his bed.”

  “Okay, I understand. I’d feel the same way. Gosh, I don’t know what to say. Of course you can stay here. Would you go back to the Bronx for the weekends?”

  “Only if you insisted,” she said. “I’m ready for something different.”

  “We’d have to make sure you took full advantage of your days off. It might be tempting to hang around seven days a week, and that might make it too convenient for me to take advantage of you.”

  “I wouldn’t mind,” she said. “I love Brent. These past weeks away from the city have been the happiest of my life. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to have been included in the move.”

  “Valarie, you’re part of the family,” Tim said. “You were here long before me.”

  “Thank you,” she answered. “So is the answer yes?”

  “Yes. You can move in whenever you want.”

  “I’ll go home tonight and pack up and drive in tomorrow. The relief of not having to take the bus is indescribable.”

  “Well, I’m so glad,” he said.

  “I think I’ll go down and lend a hand to Miss Chua,” she replied. “We can’t get these kids into school fast enough.”

  “When does school start again after winter break?” Tim asked.

  “Tuesday! Martin Luther King Day is Monday. So just the weekend ahead of us and then freedom!”

  A tap on the door led them to look up. There was an open staircase along the side of the house, and a door with a glass window that needed a curtain. Standing at the top of the landing, smiling, was Elizabeth and her son bundled in a snowsuit.

  Valarie couldn’t be sure, but she thought there was a tinge of annoyance when Tim saw her.

  “Oh, it’s Elizabeth and Christopher,” he said, walking to the door.

  “I’ll go down and help Lisa before I grocery shop,” Valarie said, getting Brent’s coat on.

  As expected, Elizabeth didn’t greet her, but at least this time she nodded her head. Valarie would be sure not to engage her or her child; if she wouldn’t acknowledge her, she wouldn’t be getting free childcare, either. Tim had never asked her to help out with the kid, and she hoped he didn’t start.

  “Hey, you found it,” he said, closing the door after her.

  She’d come with him on moving day from Smithtown, but had never driven it alone, and it was clear that she wasn’t happy about the distance.

  “Boy, it’s a lot farther out than I thought it would be. It took over an hour to get here.”

  “How was traffic?” he asked, ignoring her complaints.

  “Can I put him down?” she asked, looking around for the portable crib she’d brought to the guesthouse in Smithtown.

  “It’s down in the garage. I’ll run down and get it.”

  “Why’d it get left down there?”

  “We haven’t hauled everything in yet,” he said. “My computer is still in the car.”

  “Jeez, don’t lose that thing,” she said, laughing.

  “I’ll get it now,” he said, pulling his jacket on.

  He left the apartment while Elizabeth looked around, nostrils flared. In daylight, it was your typical shabby, two-bedroom beach rental, with sand embedded everywhere, grimy slipcovered furniture, worn wood tables, and an outdated kitchen and bathroom.

  Back in minutes like he said, Tim had his computer bag over his shoulder and the portable crib in his arms.

  “I’ll set this up in Brent’s room,” he said.

  She followed him back and saw the alcove. “Stick it in here. Then Brent can get at his toys.”

  “That’s going to be Valarie’s room,” he said. “She’s going to live in.”

  Elizabeth, working at taking Christopher’s snowsuit off, paused. “Since when?”

  “Since today. The commute is too long, and I don’t want to lose her, so having her live in is the smart thing to do.”

  “Tim, I’m not sure how I feel about that,” she said. “This place is so small, there doesn’t leave a lot of room for privacy for us.”

  Thinking, What do we need privacy for? Tim didn’t want to argue with her.

  “It’ll be fine,” he said, weary. “Are you going to work from here?”

  “I thought I would, if it’s not a problem,” she said. “Christopher will nap for three hours, and then I can head back home before traffic gets too bad.”

  “So! How do you like being at the beach?” he asked, forcing himself. “Won’t it be great this summer?”

  She motioned for him to come out of the room after putting Christopher down for a nap.

  “It’ll be great,” she said, walking to the window. A door in the front wall led to an enclosed porch. There was a bed and table and chairs out there.

  “This reminds me of my grandmother’s house,” Tim said. “She had a sleeping porch. It was near the river in a resort town. I always slept out there when I visited her. The screen door closed with one of those hooks and eyes. Someone could have snatched me off the porch if they’d wanted.”

  “Life was certainly simpler when we were growing up. So let’s get back to the nanny living in. Truthfully, Tim, I don’t like it.”

  He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t say anything, sure she’d continue with her thoughts.

  “It’s sort of inappropriate,” she finally said, getting down to business. “This place isn’t set up for two single adults to live separately. In the first place, there’s only one bathroom. How’s that going to work?”

  “Let me worry about that, okay?” he said, snickering. “I’ve been able to share a bathroom with a person of the opposite sex in the past without Armageddon taking place.”

  “You don’t have to be sarcastic.”

  “Elizabeth, Valarie is living in. That’s final. If you’re uncomfortable with it, find a way to deal with it. Like you said, life used to be a lot simpler. Don’t make an issue out of something that’s not important. At least it’s not important to me. My goal is to make life easier for everyone.”

  “That must not include me, then, because your moving out here to Babylon did not make my life easier.”

  “I don’t understand,” he said, understanding, but refusing to argue with her.

  “You could have moved in with me,” she said.

  “Elizabeth…” he started.

  “We’ve been together for over two months now. We sleep together. We eat together. Our kids play well together. What’s the holdup?”

  “The holdup is that I’m still married. I have an ugly battle ahead of me with Sandra.”

  “I don’t see what that has to do with us.”

  “I don’t want to make a commitment to anything or anybody right now. Somehow, I got that goddamned book finished, and it was the last thing I should ever have promised to do.”

  “Tim, it hasn’t even been released yet and there’s over ten thousand preorders! It’s already a bestseller. You did a wonderful job. The editors are swooning over it.”

  Trying to appeal to his ego failed because Tim had traveled beyond that. He was in a state of detachment. Nothing could upset him now because Sandra had hurt him until he was numb. He understood where he’d gone wrong with Elizabeth. She took his passiveness as a sign of acceptance, as approval, and nothing could have been further from the truth.

  “Elizabeth, sit down,” he said. “I have to say something. First, I apologize for allowing this to go on. The first time you stayed when we fell into bed, I took advantage of you. I thought you were lonely, and I was lonely too, so what could it hurt. But I was wrong because you expected something in return that I can’t give you.

  “If you want companionship, a friend, a place to hang out, that I can give you. I can even give you a bestseller or two.” />
  She smiled at that, but felt sick knowing what was coming.

  “I can’t give you commitment or a future. I’m definitely in a one-day-at-a-time mode. Even one hour at a time, with what’s happening with Brent. One day Sandra’s in jail, and the next day she’s on the cover of the Post with the CEO of Bellevue. Can you understand?”

  Nodding her head, she was afraid she would start crying if she tried to talk. She didn’t want to be his friend. She didn’t even want to be his agent now, but since the possibility that he was going to make her wealthy was huge, she’d be civil and stick it out. Having a client like Tim Hornby was a once-in-a-lifetime possibility for a literary agent.

  “I’ll try to back off,” she finally said. “But I have to insist that if you’re going to see other people, you let me know and I’ll move on. I don’t want to be that kind of friend.”

  “Absolutely,” he replied. “That’s the last thing on my mind.”

  They looked away from each other for a few moments.

  “So I guess I’ll get busy,” he said. “I want to start the next book while I’m in the writing mode.”

  “Wow, that’s exciting! Can you tell me anything about it yet?”

  “How about if I write a description and send it to you? It will help me get started.”

  “That’s great,” Elizabeth said. “As soon as you give the green light, I’ll go to work selling it.”

  “Aren’t you worried about reviews when the preorder is released?”

  “No, that’s the last thing they’ll care about. The Goldfinch has less than four stars in over twenty-five thousand reviews and it won the Pulitzer. Reviews are highly overrated.”

  “Okay, if you say so,” Tim replied, doubtful.

  They got their computers out and worked side by side on the couch until two when Christopher woke up.

  “I’ll feed him and be on my way,” she said. “Unfortunately, I have to go into the city this weekend. There’s a booksellers’ fair at Javits Center, and I have to do my part manning our booth.”

  Tim tried to show interest in Christopher, but there was none, and he felt terrible. It was another strike against them as a couple because the little boy deserved someone who loved his mother as well as him. Elizabeth pulled up the bottom of her sweater to offer her breast, but Christopher wasn’t interested.

  Looking at her, Tim realized he wasn’t interested either, especially sorry he’d ever slept with her because now she was bound to get hurt if he broke it off. Deciding nothing had to be done that day, he’d ride it out. The weekend was taken care of due to the book fair, thank God. Next week she’d want to see him and hopefully wouldn’t just show up like she had today. He’d have an excuse ready.

  Helping her get her belongings together without seeming to rush her took extra skill.

  “Should I leave the crib up?” she asked, watching him carefully.

  “Sure,” he said, certain that Valarie would fold it up as soon as possible.

  As they descended the staircase at the side of the house, Valarie, looking particularly domestic, returned from grocery shopping and was attempting to bring the entire load up to the apartment at once.

  “Let me help you,” he said, laughing, taking bags from her. “Elizabeth, will you be okay?”

  “Sure, Tim, no problem,” she said sarcastically.

  He placed the bags on the ground and ran around to open her car door for her, biting his tongue. There was nothing to fight about, and no matter how hard she tried to antagonize him, he wouldn’t get caught up in it.

  Waiting until she got the baby buckled in his seat, he knew he was going to be expected to kiss her goodbye, but saved by the bell, Dan Chua and his family pulled up, waiting for him to get out of the way so he could park. Giving Elizabeth a peck on the cheek, he waved to Dan.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” he said cheerfully to her, hoping she’d be on her way.

  The message, however, that his interest had waned reached her loud and clear. She’d do what she could to continue to ensure his success, but only as long as it paid off. Tim Hornby, lover, was history.

  The only problem was she really liked him. She’d try to hang in a little longer.

  Cohhapter 6

  The first night at the beach was both thrilling and exhausting for Dr. Marian Cooper. After living in the city all her life, she thought the silence of living in Babylon would bother her. However, the din of the waves crashing on the beach and the wind howling and blowing sand against the windows was far louder than any city noise in memory, save 1977 and again in ’78 when the Yankees won the World Series.

  By morning, she was exhausted, and it was after ten before she woke up. Her partner, Will, had arrived in the middle of the night and was snoring in bed next to her.

  Sliding carefully out of the bed, she tiptoed to the window and pulled the curtain back. The smell of the sea was more pronounced behind the curtain, and once having smelled it, she wouldn’t want to live without it.

  The kitchen was a distance from the bedroom, so she gathered up her clothes and left, closing the door behind her. The panoramic view of the sea through the huge windows that ran the length of the house beckoned her. She’d put coffee on and then walk the beach. Wanting to take ownership of the house, allowing others to see her come and go, gave her satisfaction that she couldn’t explain. With a scarf tied tightly around her neck, she quietly let herself out.

  The terrace was magnificent, although at this time of year, the plantings were wrapped with burlap and twine to protect them from the winter blast. A security cover was over the pool, ensuring that no neighborhood dogs or children would drown. She descended the granite staircase to the sand.

  Walking to the water’s edge, she felt the sea spray on her face. The wind and wild water and the crashing waves buffeted her eardrums. She thought she heard someone calling her name, and thinking it was Will, she turned back to the house. But it was Pam running toward her with the two dogs, also bundled up.

  Marian crouched down to pet them. “They are so cute! I promised myself I could have a dog when I retired. Ted won’t allow pets, but when we get our own place, I’m going right to the shelter.”

  “That’s the best place to get a dog. Do you want company? We’ll walk with you. I want to do a little beachcombing before the snow comes again.”

  “Ew, I missed that report,” Marian said. “We’ve had enough snow this year.”

  “You’re in for a treat. This wild surf is a harbinger of things to come. We’re supposed to get a foot of snow this weekend.”

  “I’m glad Will got in last night. I didn’t go to sleep until way after midnight, but he was there snoring away in the morning. I didn’t even hear him come in.”

  “What does he do?” Pam asked.

  “Real estate. Isn’t that what everyone does in Manhattan now?”

  “Is it? I’m so out of it, I have no idea. After Jack died, I got stuck with a bunch of real estate in Manhattan.”

  Shocked at what she’d admitted, Pam looked away at the water as they trudged forward.

  “That’s a pretty good thing to get stuck with, me thinks. I’m sorry about Jack,” Marion said. “It must have been traumatic after he died. His family had that big place on Columbus Avenue. I was there a few times as a teenager.”

  “You know it’s torn down now. I’m still unwelcome at historical events in town. I’m sure if they knew I was a partner in his firm, we’d lose business.”

  “Yes! It’s historical preservation, correct? That’s a hoot. Screw them. Do you still have a place there?”

  “Just one left, thank God. Jack’s place on Madison Avenue. Did you see him in the city?”

  Pam didn’t feel like she needed to hold back with Marian for some reason, like she’d be square with Pam.

  “No. Jack and I had a falling out right after college. I never spoke to him again.”

  Stunned, Pam didn’t reply, and Marian was shocked that she’d let that slip. Occasionally
Marian and Jack would run into each other at some art opening or play, but he would look at her, right through her, and move on. In their youth, he’d taken advantage of Marian’s best friend. The pain of his rejection had been too much for Genevieve, a fragile soul at the best of times, and it had led to their estrangement.

  “I’m sorry,” Pam said at last, imagining it was probably horrific, whatever Jack had done.

  “No need. I overreacted about something that was none of my business. I ended up losing a friend. Ashton and I stayed in touch. He actually saved me the mortification of not going to my own prom, so I was forever indebted to him. You knew of him, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. I found out about Ashton after Jack died, even though the man stood up in my wedding. I’m a poster child for living in denial.”

  “You mustn’t be too hard on yourself. Denial is healthy in many respects.”

  “Marian, I wish I’d known you years ago,” Pam said, laughing.

  The wind carried their conversation, and soon they were talking like old friends.

  “I know of your husband. His television shows are our favorites. We can’t wait for his New York show.”

  “They’re researching new projects right now,” Pam said.

  In actuality, the show had been stalled at Pam’s insistence that they get rid of Sandra. Now the production team was scouring old places in the city to buy and start from scratch. Pam didn’t care; she wasn’t backing down. She wanted Sandra kept as far away from Randy as humanly possible.

  The women had an enjoyable walk, but Pam was concerned about the dogs becoming too cold, so they turned around for home.

  “Let’s do this again,” Marian said. “I need the exercise and the companionship. It’s been a long time since I had a girlfriend.”

  They said goodbye and Marian hiked up the dune to the steps of Ted Dale’s wonderful house. Will Carlson stood at the expansive doors along the back of the house and lifted a cup of coffee in salute to Marian.

  He’s a fine figure of a man, she thought, waving to him. To her tall, distinguished, and slightly androgynous appearance, Will was even taller, with massive shoulders, a shock of thick silver hair, and completely masculine.

 

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