These Foolish Things

by Thatcher, Susan

  “Okay, now pretend you’re not watching,” she told Ty. Ty turned his head slightly, pretending to busy himself with egg rolls. Liz spooned up a mouthful of soup.

  Beanie struck. With a lightning-fast paw, he grabbed the Beanie Box and hauled it into range. He finished opening the carton with a combination of paws and teeth and seized his prize. He dove under the table with his spare rib. Liz could hear him chewing. Ty was leaning back and laughing. He applauded.

  “Very good, Counselor. I wasn’t expecting a floor show with dinner. What does he do for an encore, plate spinning?” The radio began to play Dave Brubeck’s rendition of “These Foolish Things.”

  Liz scooped some rice and cashew chicken onto her plate. As she went to pick up her fork, Ty stopped her, his hand on hers.

  “Chopstick school is now in session. No forks. Here. Watch closely.”

  He picked up a pair of chopsticks. “See how this one just sits? Now look.”

  He exaggerated placing the second stick between his forefinger and middle finger. “Just like holding a pencil. You try.”

  Liz awkwardly picked up the second pair of sticks, one eye on Ty’s hand as she tried to mimic the way he was holding his chopsticks.

  “No. You’re gripping too hard. Just relax,” Ty put down his chopsticks and took hold of Liz’s hand. The touch caused her to inhale sharply. Ty looked at her and let go.

  “All right, look, if this is going to bother you, never mind,” he said. “The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.”

  Liz reached for his hand. “No, look, please. You’re right, not everyone wants to hurt me. I’ve just been on the defensive for so long, it’s a reflex.” She didn’t mention that his touch had caused a shock wave of desire throughout her body.

  Ty took her hand again and gently shook out the tension. “Okay, now, relax. Good.” His tone was calming, gentle.

  “Okay, now pick up that piece of chicken and give it to me.”

  Liz picked up the chicken, dropped it, then picked it up again. She started to transfer it to Ty’s plate, but he took hold of her hand and guided it to his mouth. Liz felt him take the chicken from her chopsticks, their eyes locked on each other. This isn’t happening, she thought. This is foreplay. He can’t possibly…

  Ty’s voice cut her train of thought. “Sorry,” he said with a grin, “I got hungry.” He still held her hand. “See? You can do it.” He gently squeezed her hand. He let go to pick up his chopsticks and continue eating.

  Liz’s nerveless fingers almost dropped her chopsticks again. She didn’t dare look up at him, focusing on her food instead.

  “How’d you get to be such a chopstick expert, Ty?” she asked, tension raising her voice an octave.

  If he noticed, he ignored it. “Lots of nights at work. I think we run a tab at the local take out place.”

  Liz blushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you might be sick of…”

  He cut her off. “Actually, this is a lot better than the stuff I usually eat. What’s the name of this place again?”

  “Green Dragon Wall,” Liz busied herself with the chopsticks, successfully putting chicken into her mouth. “I have to remember to ask Roger if they want to make another donation this year.”

  “Excuse me?” Ty looked at her curiously. “Donation?”

  Liz nodded. “Yeah, for the auction at the Barrister’s Ball. In fact,” she added, “I was going to work on the stuff tonight.”

  “What stuff? It looked like there were items on your spare bed…”

  “I have a bunch of the items upstairs,” Liz said, “Dan volunteered me for the auction committee after they’d asked him to do it. We started getting donations early and I need to inventory them. You must have seen them when you hung up your clothes.” She paused, wondering how far she dared to go. “I suppose I could do it tomorrow, but” she eyed Ty, “I’ll need to clear off that for you, anyway.” God, that sounded lame and prissy.

  Eyebrows up, Ty asked, “Is that an invitation to spend the night, Counselor?” There was a teasing edge to his voice.

  Liz didn’t dare look at him. Eyes down on her plate, blushing, she said, “I’m not sending you out on a night like this. I take care of my friends.”

  “So,” Ty said softly, “you see us as friends?”

  Liz looked at him. She wasn’t prepared to explain her feelings for him. “Well, I guess. You brought me all the way back to Salem when you didn’t have to…”

  “So you wouldn’t think it might be because I had an ulterior motive?” Ty interjected. Liz looked at him, startled. He was watching her intently.

  “No, I wouldn’t,” she said flatly. “I’m not the kind of woman who inspires ulterior motives.”

  Ty snorted and mumbled something that sounded like, “Guess again.” He looked down at his plate for a moment, scowling in thought. Liz thought he looked a little frustrated, but she had no idea why.

  Ty just stared at her. “So you honestly believe I’m here because of friendship and kindness?” he asked with an edge, “Not for any other reason?”

  Liz’s eyes never left his face as she nodded. “I absolutely do,” she answered, almost as quietly. “From what I’ve seen, you’re basically a good, kind man in a cutthroat profession.”

  Ty looked down for a minute and whispered something Liz didn’t quite catch, but almost sounded like “No one’s ever said that to me.”

  A thick silence fell for a moment. Neither could look the other in the eye. Liz decided she had to act fast before it became too awkward.

  She waved at the storm still howling outside. “If the power’s out, it could be a downed line and branches, the street lights aren’t going to be working and it’s just too dangerous. Here, you’re safe, it’s warm, we have food…”

  “…the place smells like an apple pie,” he interjected. “I accept. Truth be told,” he said as he cut an egg roll in half and handed part to Liz, “I was hoping you’d ask. I’d have just gone back to my house and been by myself. It is rotten out there, we’ve got good food, the music’s great and I like the company. This is as close as I’ve gotten to a birthday party in years. Here,” he handed her the mustard, “this’ll clear up your sinuses.”

  Liz gingerly dabbed the hot mustard on her egg roll. “What do you normally do on a Saturday night, Ty?”

  He chewed for a moment, “Depends. Usually, I’m entertaining clients or attending office functions. Other than that, I work at home. How about you?”

  Liz shrugged, “Not much, really. Once a month, the gang comes over for dinner and a movie. I’ll go to clubs like Scullers if someone’s playing that I want to hear, but other than that, it’s pretty quiet.”

  “Maybe we could go together some night,” Ty offered.

  Before she could respond, the radio DJ announced “And we have a request going out tonight. The gold standard. The one, the only Miss Etta James performing ‘At Last’.” Liz and Ty glanced at each other. Ty wiped his lip and stood up.

  “Dance with me,” he murmured.

  “What?” Liz wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. He repeated himself.

  Liz shook her head. “I’m not much of a dancer, really.”

  Ty grabbed her hand and hauled Liz to her feet. “Nonsense. I’ll have you burning the dance floor in no time. Besides,” he said as he pulled her close, “you’ll need to know how for the Barrister’s Ball, right?”

  “I wasn’t going to go,” she said.

  “What? After all the work you’re doing? Why not?” he asked.

  “My friends are all paired up and I’m not comfortable being the odd woman out at those things.” She felt a hollowness in her chest as she said it.

  Ty tilted her face up to look at his. “I’ve never been to one, either, but I’ll go if you go.” He smiled. “This’ll be the prom you didn’t have.”

  Liz hardly breathed. Ty held her away in formal dance fashion, one hand at her waist, daylight between their bodies, the other hand holding hers. Liz
put her hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscles underneath.

  “Now,” he said, “look me in the eye. Don’t watch our feet. If you trust me, this’ll work. Unless Beanie trips us again, I promise I won’t hurt you.”

  Liz looked into his eyes as directed and was mesmerized by the warmth she saw there. She felt his eyes searching hers, for what, she couldn’t fathom. The urge to lay her head on his shoulder and let him pull her tight against his body again was enormous, but Liz reminded herself that he hadn’t invited that intimate touch. They made a small circle around the floor, exhaled breath mingling, bare feet occasionally brushing each other. Each time, Liz felt a small shock from the contact and a desire to press a kiss on his lips. She bit her lip to keep herself in check. The song ended and they stopped moving, still holding each other. Liz was the first to step away. She was about to thank him when a particularly vicious blast of lightning struck, deafening thunder on top of it.

  Liz couldn’t tell if she threw herself against Ty or if he pulled her in, but his arms were wrapped around her tightly. She wound her arms around his body and pressed her face against his shoulder. He tightened his hold even more, murmuring wordlessly. She felt him slowly stroke her back. She began to relax. In a minute, she was able to step away from him. Reluctantly.

  “Thank you,” she said, almost in a whisper.

  “You’re welcome,” he whispered back. He swallowed and assumed a light tone, “The advanced course includes a dip, but I don’t think you’re quite ready for that.”

  As he seated himself, Liz thought she caught Ty checking out her cleavage. She drew back quickly, lest he see too much. She quickly buttoned her shirt a little higher.

  “Liz? Are you cold?” Ty had seen her cover up.

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Here, more tea will warm you up.” Liz held out her mug. “Yes, please.” She looked into the mug and made a decision.

  “Earlier, when you asked me about being sick, I wasn’t truthful,” she started, looking into the mug.

  “I know,” he replied quietly, “but I understand now why you’re not very trusting. It’s okay.”

  Liz took a deep breath. “When Beanie found me, I had just had my first chemotherapy treatment.” She looked at Ty. “I had breast cancer. My HMO wasn’t very good and the surgeon was inexperienced. The surgery scarred me pretty badly and the HMO wouldn’t cover plastic surgery to repair the damage.”

  He was sitting still, staring at her. “Are you okay now?”

  Liz nodded. “Clear as a bell, but…” she motioned to her chest, “nothing Hugh Hefner would want in his magazine. It’s been an issue a couple of times.”

  “An issue? With…?” Ty left the question hanging.

  “With dates,” she looked at Ty, almost defiant. “The scars have ended more than one relationship for me. The man I thought was my boyfriend bailed when I was diagnosed.” Her expression became bitter, “Real cute. Had this stupid-ass grin on his face, you know, thought he’d be funny and I’d forgive him. Said he’d always preferred double-breasted suits and that went for women, too.” She looked away. “I remember I was thinking about that remark as the anesthesia began to work.” She shrugged off the memory and continued. “I found out that I was just ‘convenient.’” She deliberately chose the word and watched Ty wince. “He had another girl who meant more to him, I guess.

  “Afterwards, one date accidentally saw the scar when my sweater slipped and he left me at the restaurant we’d gone to. It took me until now to realize that maybe being on my own isn’t so bad. When I was younger, you know, I’d always seen myself as being married and having a big, happy, noisy family at this point…”

  “You still could, maybe not big, but…” Ty interrupted.

  Liz shook her head, “I guess it just wasn’t in the cards. I’ve had enough pain and rejection in my life. I don’t want to risk any more.”

  They sipped their tea until Ty broke the silence again.

  “Tell me something,” he asked as he poured out some more, “Is there something going on between you and your friend DiNardo?”

  “No,” Liz shook her head.

  Ty set down the teapot, “Was there?”

  Liz made a face. “Ew, no.”

  “Why?” Ty asked. He was leaning on one elbow as he listened. Beanie, having devoured both of his ribs, tried to sneak onto the table for more. Ty pointed a finger at him and Beanie settled himself onto his chair, cleaning sauce off his face.

  Liz laughed. “Joey and Tony DiNardo are the closest thing I have to brothers. We grew up next door to each other. Their mom taught me how to cook. I spent my summers and weekends working in their restaurant down in Hyannis after they moved; the whole family did.” She smiled. “Angie just gets bent out of shape when I improve on her recipes. Of course, she sticks with the changes I make.” Liz sipped her tea. Thinking about her adoptive mother always made her smile.

  “At least it’s got you smiling again,” Ty commented, “I was afraid I was going to have to do a walrus impression with the chopsticks to make you laugh. I don’t even want to think about splinter risk. Here.” He handed Liz a fortune cookie. “It’s my birthday, so I chose first.”

  Liz broke open her cookie and read it out loud, squinting in the soft light, “’your destiny lies before you. Choose wisely’.”

  “Sounds promising. Let’s see what I got,” said Ty, “Hey, I got the same one.”

  “You did not, let me see,” said Liz.

  Ty held out the slip of paper triumphantly. “There. See?” he said. “Nyah.” Ty stuck out his tongue at her.

  Liz giggled as she read the paper slip. Indeed, his fortune was the same. “Son of a gun,” said Liz, “I wonder what the odds are on that.” Was this a sign?

  “Still hungry?” she asked Ty.

  “Maybe,” he said cautiously. Liz rose. She gathered up the dishes to take into the kitchen and realized that she couldn’t handle them and a candle. “Want some help?” asked Ty. “I notice you don’t ask for it, even when you need it.” He was on his feet already, gathering up cartons and candle. Beanie took a swipe at the now-empty rib box, hoping to make one last big score before calling it quits. He missed. Liz and Ty went into the kitchen. She rinsed off dishes and he piled the cartons on the counter. With a smile, Liz took the empties and put them in the garbage. The ones still containing food were off-loaded into plastic storage boxes. Liz noticed that Ty didn’t really seem to know what to do. She took the candle from him and opened the refrigerator door, quickly slipping leftovers in, removing a small covered dish and fending off Beanie all at the same time. “Why don’t you start some more tea?” she suggested to Ty.

  He looked at the dish. “What’s that?” he asked as he refilled the tea kettle.

  “Dessert, if you want it,” she answered.

  “I do.” He put the kettle on a lit burner. “Who does your cooking for you?” he asked.

  What an odd question. “I do,” said Liz. “What about you?”

  Ty shrugged, “I spend most of my time at the office so I eat out a lot,” he said.

  “I see,” she said, “And when you’re home?”

  “I have 5 cuisines on speed dial.”

  “Cleaning lady?” Liz probed.

  “Full-time housekeeper,” he answered. Ty shrugged again. “I’m not really all that domesticated, I guess.”

  “Well, you’re busy. I can see needing the help.” Liz said.

  The kettle began to whistle and Ty prepared another pot of tea. “Hey, at least I can boil water and soak leaves,” he said with a smile. Liz laughed. They returned to the dining room and seated themselves.

  “Okay, Counselor,” Liz said as she uncovered the dish and scooped out a generous portion. She passed the dish to Ty, who examined it warily.

  “This is my tiramisu,” said Liz. “I was going to take some into the office on Monday, but with the power being iffy, I’d rather feed it to someone than have to dump it.”

  Ty spooned up a b
igger portion. “So this is the stuff you claim is so much better than the top restaurants in Boston, huh?” He was digging in with gusto.

  “Did I lie?” Liz asked.

  Ty looked at her and smiled, “No, by God, yours is better. This birthday’s getting better.”

  Liz grabbed the nearest candle. “Here,” she instructed, “make a wish and blow it out. I’m not going to sing or YOU’LL end up crying.”

  Ty laughed, paused and blew out the candle. He scooped up another mouthful of tiramisu.

  “Want to be my personal chef? Gotta beat the hell out of being Dan’s ghost writer,” Ty offered.

  Liz laughed even harder. “I think I have as much as I can handle, job-wise, right now. But I’ll tell you what, it’s no fun to make something special just for myself. I’d be happy to make dinner for you sometime.”

  Ty was thoughtful as he mouthed the dessert. “Let’s see, I taste coffee, brandy, I think, chocolate and something I can’t identify.” He swallowed. “What’s the secret ingredient?”

  She noticed he ignored the dinner offer. “If I told you…”

  “It wouldn’t be a secret. I know,” he finished. Ty took another mouthful. “I love this stuff.”

  After they’d cleared dishes and secured the fire, Liz led Ty upstairs. In the spare room, Liz set down her candle on a night table and Ty followed suit. The light cast long, flickering shadows over the room and over an eclectic assortment of items on the bed. “And here we have the loot for the auction,” Liz announced.

  “What’s the charity this year?” Ty asked as he picked up a framed piece.

  “Breast cancer, so this one’s close to my heart,” Liz replied. “We’re supporting the Bay State Breast Cancer Foundation and I see you have what I think is the star item in your hand.”

  Ty cocked an eyebrow at her. “Really? Looks like a framed album cover.”

  “It is, but do you see all those black squiggly lines?” Liz asked. Ty nodded. “Aerosmith.”

  Ty was clearly impressed. “Really? How’d you do that?”

  “Corey used to babysit for either Steven Tyler’s kids or Joe Perry’s kids. I forget which and I shouldn’t because he brags about it often enough. Anyway, Steven Tyler was wicked funny. He said that they’d seen plenty of breasts over the years and it was a pleasure to support them.” Ty laughed so hard, he almost dropped the cover.