Champagne for Christmas

by Joachim Jean

“Of course.”

  “I’m glad you’re so confident.” Nina changed her position to upright and continued to tread.

  “I’ll be busy with Cory every weekend. I have no interest in other women. And as long as you don’t rekindle any old flames, or meet any new ones…”

  She laughed.

  “Is that a promise?” he asked.

  “It is.” Emboldened by their adventure, Nina swam toward the center of the lake.

  “Hey! Where you going?”

  “Exercise,” she called out.

  “Come back. Not without a boat!”

  The cool water soothed her and the moon lit her way. Stroke after easy stroke, she cut through the water. Then, it happened. A small pain shot through her stomach, but she ignored it.

  Indigestion. She kept swimming, slowing down a little. She was a hundred yards from the dock by now. But the nagging pain continued. She stopped to tread water and wait for it to pass. Then, it hit her again, suddenly, and hard. A huge cramp in her stomach had her doubling over, clutching her midsection.

  This is what they warn you about. She sank under the surface for a moment, her knees folded into her chest. Then, she managed to push her legs a little bit away from her body to kick. Rotating them in a bicycle motion, even for a few seconds, bobbed her up. She gasped for air while she massaged the cramp with her fingers. But the muscle was as hard as a rock and showed no signs of relaxing.

  Shit. I don’t want to die. Especially not naked in the lake. Again, she took a deep breath as she went below. Where’s Clint? He can’t see me in the dark, especially if I go under. Panic built in her chest. No, no, I can’t panic. Then, I’ll die for sure. She slowed her breathing, kept kneading the cramped muscle, and attempted another kick to bring her up. She succeeded only in bringing her head slightly above the surface.

  Suddenly, a force propelled her up, and she inhaled frantically.

  A strong arm slid across her chest, balancing her on Clint’s hip as he did the sidestroke. Still drawing her legs up because of the pain, Nina turned her head to the right and managed to breathe regularly. The strength of his body against hers, pulling her back to safety, calmed her down. Silence floated along with them like a vapor.

  His strong, sure strokes returned them to the dock before she could think of an apology. The cramp eased, and she was able to straighten her body, although her midsection was sore.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Cramp,” she managed, water dripping down her face and into her mouth.

  He wiped her wet hair off her forehead and kissed it. “Fuck. You scared the hell out of me. I thought I’d lost you. When you went under, I couldn’t find you. Shit, it’s damn dark out here.”

  “I scared myself, too.” Now that the shock of almost drowning had worn off, she began to tremble.

  Clint drew her into a one-armed embrace, as he was hanging onto the ladder with the other. “You okay now?”

  She began to cry, even as she nodded. Clint pulled her closer. She clung to him with every ounce of strength she had left and sobbed into his chest.

  He spoke in a quiet voice, “You’re okay now, Nina. Right? You’re gonna be fine. And you’re not gonna do that again, are you?”

  She shook her head, as emotion had closed her throat. When the sobs stopped, she wiped her face with her hand and joined her gaze with his. “You saved my life. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I love you so much.”

  “Me, too. Come on, let’s get dressed. I’m getting cold.” He climbed up first then helped her up the ladder.

  She rubbed her belly as they strolled home, hand in hand. “Where’d you learn to swim like that?”

  “Took junior lifesaving at sleep-away camp.”

  “It paid off tonight.”

  “Sure did.” He chuckled and pulled her closer.

  The lovers enjoyed their last night together, snuggled up, wrapped in each other’s arms. Nina slept peacefully, cuddled in his embrace.

  The next day Clint packed up his SUV by ten o’clock to avoid physical labor during the heat of the day. He and Nina clung to each other for five minutes then he got behind the wheel and put the car in gear. A quick toot of the horn as a final farewell and the black car disappeared down the road to the turn-off toward New York City.

  Nina sighed and walked back inside. She iced the coffee leftover from breakfast and sat on the deck. The house was quieter than ever. Each footstep echoed. The absence of voices was deafening. Loneliness seeped into her heart.

  ****

  Warm, lazy summer days seemed to drag on for the next week. Without Clint, Nina rattled around her empty house like the last pea left in a pod.

  To prepare for her role in “Happy Family” and to stay busy, she created a workout routine. She walked the three miles around the shore and went swimming in the lake, always with a buddy, remembering Clint’s rescue.

  An unexpected knock on her door interrupted her reading in the shade on the deck one afternoon. Her neighbor, Laura Dailey, stood outside.

  “Come in, Laura.” Nina showed her out to the deck, poured a frosty glass of mint iced tea, and put it on the table in front of her guest. “What’s up?”

  “Now that your hunky friend is gone, I thought you might have some spare time.”

  Nina raised her eyebrows.

  Laura showed her palm in protest. “I don’t mean to be nosy. But I got eyes. Could you carve out some time to help with the chicken barbecue, like you and Henry used to do?”

  “For charity?”

  “Volunteer ambulance.”

  “Of course.”

  ”Great. Some folks seem too busy to help out, though they’ll all be there complaining about the price and wanting to dictate exactly how their chicken should be cooked! But not you. You just get stuff done.”

  Nina laughed. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

  Spending her days with Laura helped the time pass faster.

  Because Nina and Henry had been summer weekend residents of Pine Grove since the eighties, she knew everyone. She organized a committee to handle the event. April McKenna Dailey handled the publicity, Fran Andrews kept track of food donations, and Gavin Dailey recruited firemen to cook.

  Nina contacted some of her wealthy New York friends for raffle donations. She secured two tickets to a Broadway hit play, a generous gift basket of wine and chocolate, and ten one-hundred dollar gift certificates to popular stores. Even Homer coughed up a dinner for two at his restaurant.

  With Clint gone over two weeks already, Nina’s thoughts returned to her days with Henry in Pine Grove. Sitting at her desk, a pen held firmly between her teeth, she gazed out the window at her garden. She missed Henry. Together, they had spearheaded fund-raising events in Pine Grove for years. He was inventive and daring, even creating a Guess-the-Celebrity costume party. That gala had been so successful it had gotten written up in The New York Times.

  Life was so lonely and quiet without his life force beside her. She sighed deep in her chest. Nina hadn’t planned to be alone at such a young age. And with her son living on the West Coast, life had become dry and quiet.

  Before her pity party ruined her day, her cell rang. It was Clint.

  “Hi, baby. How are you? When are you coming back?”

  Nina smiled. “Hey, handsome. How’s school?”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “You’re not crawling with younger women yet?”

  “Nina, stop. I’m not interested in any other women, older or younger.”

  “I’m sorry. Just insecure, I guess.”

  “Come back, and I’ll make you feel secure.” He chuckled.

  “Oh?” She cocked an eyebrow. “And how would you do that?”

  “I have some ideas. But you have to be here to find out.”

  “It won’t be long. Once the chicken barbecue is done, I’ve got three days to pack. Maybe ten days, total?”

  “That’s ten da
ys too long. I’m at school. Can’t talk. Wanted to tell you I miss you, honey.”

  “Miss you, too.”

  “See you in ten days.”

  “Ten days.”

  She ended the conversation and sat back, turning her attention to what was growing outside her window. This year I’m actually going to have some cucumbers and a tomato or two. With help from Clint, Nina’s garden had produced vegetables for the first time. Maybe it was time to put the memory of Henry in the backseat and move Clint to the front. A new era? At my age?

  The day of the chicken barbecue arrived before she could breathe. Under her direction, the event pulled in the most money ever. Twenty-five hundred dollars was unprecedented.

  The day after, Nina had started packing for her departure when her phone rang.

  “Hi, Laura.”

  “Hi, yourself. You’ve done it now.”

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “You’ve broken a record. Looks like you’re the permanent chicken barbecue chair.” Laura chuckled.

  “Oh. You scared me for a moment.”

  “Thank you so much, Nina. It’s amazing what you did. I hope you’ll do it next year, too.”

  “Of course. I’m glad it went so well. Got to pack.”

  She put down her cell and returned to folding clothes and placing them in a large suitcase. The first year I did an event without Henry. Maybe I’m ready to move on. I miss you, Henry, but I’m going to have my own life.

  Nina zipped up the luggage and carried it out to the car.

  ****

  Clint pushed open his front door as he listened to voicemail. Not knowing what to expect, he was pleasantly surprised to find a message from Nina. His mouth hung open as he listened.

  “What are you wearing? I’m wearing my silk robe and nothing else. Oops. Gosh. The robe just fell to the floor.” The phone went dead.

  He called her back right away.

  “Come over,” she said.

  “Where are you?

  “In New York. So, come over.” He heard a door close in the background.

  “Now?”

  “Right now.” She sounded slightly breathless.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Undressing.”

  “I’m on my way.” He hung up and grinned.

  On the way to Nina’s, his cell rang as he crossed West End Avenue.

  “Hi, Dan, What’s up?”

  “Wanna grab a beer tonight?”

  “Can’t. Got a date.” He looked to the right for traffic before crossing the street.

  “That old chick?”

  His brow furrowed. “You mean Nina?”

  “Yeah. You still hanging with her?”

  “Dan, shut up about her.”

  “Hey, man, I’m just sayin’.”

  “Yeah? Just say goodbye then. Find yourself another friend.”

  Clint clicked the call off and continued walking toward Nina’s place. He looked at his watch and picked up his pace. When he arrived at her building on Central Park West and 77th Street, he was stopped politely by the doorman.

  “Excuse me, sir. Who are you visiting?”

  “Nina Wells, but she told me she’s in apartment 8A, so I thought I’d—”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I must announce you to Mrs. Wells before I can let you go up.”

  “Oh, of course. Of course.” Clint tapped his foot while he waited, listening to the doorman’s half of the conversation with Nina.

  Before long, he was riding up in the polished mahogany elevator, express to the eighth floor. Clint rubbed the back of his neck, wondering what to expect when the doors opened. Pretty fancy building. As they parted, he saw a short hallway papered with a muted print gold and white wallpaper, with the crown molding painted a perfect white to match, and a dark mahogany floor.

  He blinked twice and turned his head. At one end was a closed door. At the other end was an open door with Nina standing inside, wearing a turquoise blue, silk robe, a huge smile, and nothing else.

  “Come in, come in,” she said, tugging his arm.

  Clint took her in an embrace, planting a kiss on her. She softened against him as his hands pulled on her hips to bring her closer. When they broke, he looked up, and his jaw dropped.

  The small entryway had doors in two walls and a huge archway leading the living room in the third. Nina pulled him into an enormous space with French doors that opened to a terrace. The room was painted taupe with bright white on the molding and trim. There were two large sofas facing each other in creamy white leather in front of a big fireplace with a white marble hearth and mantle and a couple of club chairs covered in cream silk damask. The coffee table was a large square of glass on chrome legs.

  There was a glass dining table for six with chrome and beige leather modern chairs, a credenza on the facing wall, and a cabinet tucked neatly into a corner. Large, colorful, expensive paintings from the most popular artists of the last twenty years were hanging on the walls. The floor was pickled wood, freshly refinished and polished to a shine, exactly the same as the floor in the entryway.

  The area was obviously created for entertaining, as there was a baby grand piano in one corner and an elaborately stocked bar in another. Clint was speechless opulence of the room.

  “You live here?” he choked out.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  “How big’s this place?”

  “It’s only a two-bedroom, but it’s more than adequate for me.”

  “More than adequate? I’d say so. I’m crammed into a tiny one-bedroom in a brownstone on 120th and Riverside.”

  “Henry made a lot of money. He liked to live well. We entertained a lot for his business. I don’t care where you live, or how much money you make, Clint. Our relationship isn’t about that…not for me.”

  “I knew you were well off, but this, this is beyond well off, Nina.”

  “Does it matter?”

  His eyebrows rose. “Doesn’t it matter to you?”

  “I don’t expect everyone to make the money Henry made. He worked too hard and died too young. Is that good? I don’t think so. I don’t care how much money you make…you love what you do, that’s what counts.”

  Clint ran his hand through his hair as his gaze swept the room again. “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t be a reverse snob, Clint.”

  He laughed. “I suppose I shouldn’t judge…”

  “I’m the same person you knew before you walked through that door.”

  “True.”

  “Come, let me show you around.”

  She guided him through the living room and out onto the terrace, which had a slate floor and wrought iron railing anchored into a short, cement wall. A table with four chairs occupied one side, and two lounge chairs with a small side table between them occupied the other. Each chair had a plump cushion covered in a cheerful blue, green, and white floral print canvas fabric. Two tall, frosty glasses of iced tea and a small plate of bakery cookies sat on a beautiful ceramic tray on the table.

  Nina pulled out one of the chairs for Clint.

  He kept staring at the view. Even though it was only the eighth floor, Nina’s apartment had an unobstructed, panoramic view of Central Park and straight across to Fifth Avenue on the other side. The sight was breath-taking with all the trees in full bloom and a clear blue, cloudless sky. Clint sank down in the offered seat, gawking at the beauty of the park. “Look, there’s the boathouse,” he said, pointing.

  “You can almost see the statue of Balto from here.” Nina handed him a glass of tea. “Just the way you like it, with two sugars and mint.” She picked up her own glass, taking a sip.

  Clint gulped to wet his dry mouth. He had never been in an elegant, obviously expensive place like this. He wondered how he could reconcile the woman he loved with this fancy, rich lady who lived in style in such luxury.

  “What?” She looked down at the front of her robe. “Did I spill something?”

  “I can’t
believe you live like this.”

  “Why not? I told you about Henry.”

  “But I never expected anything so…so…‘grand’ is the only word that comes to mind.” He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets.

  Nina put her hands on her hips. “I thought we agreed that doesn’t matter.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “How can it not matter? Your monthly maintenance is probably more than my entire salary.”

  “Don’t exaggerate. But if it were? So? I’m well fixed. Why is that a problem?”

  “It’s simply…it’s…I don’t know…such a surprise.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Get over it. Don’t let this mess us up, please.” Her brows knitted as her lips compressed into a frown.

  “How can I compete with all…this?” He made a sweeping gesture that took in the living room, terrace, and even the view.

  “You don’t have to. I don’t need you to supply this for me. I already have it. I don’t care about fancy living. I prefer the house upstate, if you must know. It’s much more comfortable and doesn’t require so much work. This is part of my old life. You are part of my life now. And, hopefully, my life yet to be.” Nina took his face in her hands and kissed him.

  He rested his palm on her waist. “I’ve never dated a wealthy woman before.”

  “We put our pants on one leg at a time, like you do.”

  “You’re never coming to my place,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Please don’t feel like that. This is Henry’s house. My house is the one upstate.”

  Clint sat back and sipped his tea, thinking about what Nina had said. He wanted it to be true. My life yet to be. He grinned. He liked the sound of that.

  “What?” she asked, her gaze searching his face.

  “I like your choice of words.”

  “You’re a good teacher.”

  He laughed. “It’s been a month. Are we going to make love, or are you going to leave me…uh…”

  “Horny?”

  “Wanting?” he supplied.

  “Nicer term.” She offered him a smile. “Come on, English teacher. No more words.” Nina took his hand and led him into the bedroom.

  Chapter Six