by Joachim Jean
Cory’s head snapped up, and he laid down his knife. “Heifetz. You have Heifetz playing Bach?” He turned to stare at Nina.
“You don’t think I only listen to show tunes, do you?”
He shook his head slightly, as a small smile played on his lips. “This is my favorite.”
“I know.”
A grateful grin swept over Clint’s face, relief evident in his eyes. Cory continued to smile, and his cutting action increased.
“One more question then I’ll stop. How long have you been playing the violin?”
Nina greased the pan for the stuffing as Clint began to load it in.
“Since I was nine. I play basketball, too. Dad says that’s the best sport for me, because I’m tall.” He looked at his dad and blushed a little. “At least, I’m gonna be tall someday.”
“Did you bring your violin?”
“Nah. Mom said it’d get wrecked on the trip.”
Cory helped his father heap the stuffing in the pan. Clint nudged Nina away from the oven, opened the door, and shoved the dish inside, keeping her safely out of the way.
“Time for a break. Brownies?”
“Homemade?” Cory asked.
“My secret recipe,” Nina confirmed, retrieving a plate piled high with the confection. She set it on the small table.
“Soda, coffee, water…gentlemen?”
Clint looked at Cory, who broke out into a big smile.
“Tell her, Dad.”
“Milk, Nina. Everyone knows that!”
They laughed, and she did, too. Clint took down three glasses while Nina took the carton from the refrigerator. Cory sat down. She noticed him watching how she and Clint interacted. They worked together seamlessly, the way they always did. Does it upset him that his father and I get along so well? Clint set the glasses down, and Nina poured the milk.
After they finished eating, Cory pushed to his feet. “Homework.”
Nina led the boy back to the guest room while Clint washed their dishes.
Cory plopped down on the bed, grabbed his backpack, and unzipped an outer pocket. He extracted some papers and a pen. Nina stopped by the desk where the computer was. She picked up a small, rectangular box.
“I used to play this game on the computer with my son. Roller Coaster Tycoon. Do you know it?”
Cory shook his head.
“You’d be too young. We had a lot of fun building roller coasters and designing theme parks together. When you take a break, I thought you might enjoy playing it. I think I still remember some of the game, if you need help…which you probably don’t.”
Cory wandered over and picked up the box. He looked it over and read the description on the back. “This is a brand-new game.”
“It’s for you, if you want it. I thought you’d try it out here, if you like it, you can take it home, or keep it here to play when you visit.”
He looked up at her sharply. Nina sensed color come into her cheeks. You’re assuming you and Clint are going to be together for a long time. You’re scaring him! Back off.
“Just a thought. Don’t want to interfere with your schoolwork. Back to cooking.” She raised her palms and backed out of the room. As she walked toward Clint finishing up the dishes, she sensed the heat leaving her face. Preoccupied, she didn’t hear his greeting.
“I said—hi, beautiful.”
“Oh.” She looked up and smiled.
“What? Did Cory say something?”
“Nope. Just me, trying too hard.” She picked up a list from the countertop and went to the cabinet to get the ingredients for their next dish.
“You’re doing fine. That Heifetz CD was a stroke of genius.”
“Certainly surprised him, didn’t I?” She chuckled.
Clint pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. “Don’t worry. It won’t be long before he’ll see the person I see in you, honey.”
She rested her face against his chest and closed her eyes. There was something about being enclosed in Clint’s embrace that erased all the cares of the world. She inhaled his masculine scent mixed with the clean smell of his freshly laundered, flannel shirt. The softness of the fabric belied the hardness of his chest underneath. Happiness washed over her. The best Thanksgiving in years.
When the last casserole entered the oven, they removed their aprons and sipped Cabernet Sauvignon. They stood at the window facing downtown and peered out into the deep blue night sky. Clint rested his hand on Nina’s shoulder as they stared at the twinkling red, blue, and green lights mixed with brilliant white from high-rise apartments in midtown.
The festive decorations shining through the darkness reflected the holiday spirit spreading out over New York City, like a jeweled magic carpet. She snaked her arm around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. Neither uttered a word.
Clint drained the rest of his wine and put his glass down. Then, he took Nina’s. He placed his hands on her shoulders to turn her to face him. “I love you,” he murmured, as his lips claimed hers. Nina got on her tiptoes, arms around his neck, as he pulled her closer.
“I’ve got a question about—” Cory walked around the corner into the kitchen. He stopped dead, his mouth opened, but no words came out. Clint cracked an eye and spied his son standing there. Stepping back from Nina, he shot Cory a guilty grin. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Nina recovered faster than her lover. “No worries, Cory. We do that from time to time. Is there a problem with the game?”
“Which works better—charging admission or charging for the rides? I don’t think you can do both.”
“It depends on the rides you have and the park. You’re right, you can’t do both. Let me take a look at the one you’re talking about.” Nina put her hand on his upper arm briefly then accompanied him back to the guest room.
When they turned the corner, out of earshot of Clint, Cory stopped abruptly and blurted out, “Don’t hurt him.”
“What?” Nina halted in the doorway. “Hurt who?”
“My dad.”
“I’d never hurt him. I love him.”
Cory managed a feeble smile and an awkward silence before returning to the computer. “I’m only on the second scenario.”
Nina walked over and stood behind the desk chair. She absently put a hand on his shoulder, like she had with her son, Darcy, and looked at the screen. “I’d start with an admission charge. Begin low. As you add rides, raise the charge.”
Cory moved the mouse, and Nina stayed hunched over until she heard a throat-clearing sound. Glancing at the door, she noticed Clint, taking up the whole doorframe, grinning ear-to-ear before he announced, “It’s late, son. Gotta be up early for the brunch and the parade.”
“Yeah. The parade. I almost forgot. Where do you watch it from?” Nina took him to the French doors and opened them briefly. Cory stepped out on the terrace, into the winterish night air. “Wow. This is going to be awesome.” He looked to the left, up the avenue, lit up by decorations and street lamps.
“Bed,” Clint reminded, tapping him on the shoulder.
“Yeah. Goodnight,” Cory said to Nina. “And thanks…for everything.”
She smiled and nodded. “See you at seven thirty.”
“Seven thirty? That’s like a school day,” Cory mumbled as he and Clint walked back toward the guest room.
“It’s when the action begins around here, so I’m told.”
“You gotta get up, too,” the boy pointed at his father and laughed.
“Goodnight, son.” Clint planted a kiss on Cory’s forehead before closing his door.
****
When Clint entered the elegant bedroom, Nina was in the adjoining bathroom with the door shut. He started to get undressed. By the time she came out wearing her silk robe and nothing else, Clint was sitting in bed with the covers pulled up to his waist. Nina stopped for a second and stared at him.
“You were great with Cory,” he said.
“Thank you.”
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��That color…you look…”
“You, too. I like you like that. Would love to have an oil painting of you the way you look right now, sitting up in bed, almost naked,” Nina said, as her eyes sparkled. She slipped her robe off her shoulders and draped it on the nearby wing chair then slid in next to Clint.
“Not tonight, Nina. I mean he’s right there, across the hall, and we’re noisy, and—”
“Do you mean you don’t want to make love because your son is in the room across the hall?”
“Kinda, yeah.” His brows knitted, his cheeks pinked.
“Did you stop sleeping with your wife after he was born?”
“No, but—”
“That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Maybe this one night?”
“I understand. Can we have a little cuddle at least?”
“Of course.”
Nina turned on her side, her back facing him, and he spooned her, bringing his large knees up behind her petite ones. His arm fastened around her waist and pulled her closer. When he laid his arm down, her breast rested in his hand. Nina sighed and closed her eyes.
Clint snapped out the light and put his head down on the pillow. After a few minutes, he flipped the light back on and spoke, “I don’t think this is going to work.”
“Why not?” she asked, lifting her head slightly.
“Nina, I’ve got you in my hand. I can’t go to sleep like that. It makes me want to…to…touching you like that, I…”
“You want to make love?”
“I do, and I don’t.”
“Make up your mind.” She rolled over on her back.
“I can’t be that close to you, touching you like that, and not want to. But I’m not comfortable with him so nearby.”
“Didn’t you already tell him we’re sleeping together? If you didn’t, he knows it now.” Nina laughed and turned to face him. She eased the covers down slowly, provocatively, inch by inch, teasing him.
“Stop it, Nina. Come on,” he said, his eyes staring at her neck then following the blanket and sheet as they slithered down her body.
“Control yourself, Clint.” Nina continued to move the covers down until they were at her waist, exposing her breasts to his eyes. Clint couldn’t remove his gaze from her chest. “Hmm. Like what you see?”
Clint closed the gap between them in one move. He pushed her on her back and covered her mouth with his, his hand surrounding her breast. She stretched out, pressing against him, a muffled sound escaping from her throat. His lips and tongue had ravaged her mouth then moved to her neck, kissing down to her shoulder, when there was a tap on the door.
Clint bolted upright in bed.
“Dad?” came the loud whisper from the other side.
“Cory?”
Clint climbed out of bed quickly while Nina, convulsed in laughter, tried to control herself. She clamped a hand down on her mouth, muffling her giggles. Clint donned the blue robe and padded to the door. He opened the door about five inches.
“What is it, son?” he asked, blocking Cory’s view of the bed.
Nina stopped giggling so she could listen.
“I forgot my toothbrush.”
“I think there are some spares here. I’ll be right back.”
Clint left the door cracked open, but Cory had moved away slightly. His father retrieved a toothbrush from the medicine cabinet and returned swiftly.
“Maybe I should keep a toothbrush here, too, like you do,” Cory ventured.
“Maybe you should, son.”
“You’re here a lot, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“Then, I guess I’ll be here, too.”
“Is that okay with you?” Clint ventured, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.
Cory nodded. “Yeah. I like it here.”
“Good. So do I.”
“Goodnight, Dad. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” the boy teased, grinning.
“Goodnight, smartass.” Clint ruffled Cory’s hair then closed the door.
Nina sat up in bed, and Clint returned. “Permission to make love, granted?” she asked, sporting a wicked grin while he laughed.
“Where were we?” He crawled into bed, leaning over her.
“Right about here,” she said, pulling him down on top of her.
Chapter Eight
Thanksgiving morning was bright, sunny, clear, and cold, with the thermometer hovering at about thirty-seven degrees Fahrenheit. There was almost no wind, which boded well for the parade and the balloon handlers. Nina arose at six, reluctant to leave the warmth of Clint’s arms. She let him sleep as she tiptoed into the kitchen to make coffee.
In the dining room, she took out plates, good silver, and serving platters from the sideboard and the corner cabinet between slugs of java. She moved about as quietly as possible trying not to wake the guys. When she finished setting the table, she sat in her emerald green velour running suit by the French doors and looked out at the park. With most of the leaves finally off the trees, it looked bleak, stark, a grayish color, the way it would look, except for snow, throughout the winter.
Bright sunshine bathed the outside space in warmth. Nina guessed they might be able to sit out there for short periods of time and watch the parade. But when the sun shifted to the West, the terrace would be shaded and too cold for comfort.
Since Henry had passed on, the holidays had brought loneliness and depression to Nina’s heart, instead of love and laughter. Longing for the life she had had with him, gnawed at her. Their busy social schedule, full of celebrity parties, gifts of diamond jewelry, weekend jaunts to Paris, and elegant living, had been glamorous whirlwind.
She still had the lifestyle, as Henry had left her well fixed financially. But after he had died, people gradually moved on, and she had realized how many of their friends were either his friends or business associates.
This year was different. She felt alive, excited, and happy. The holidays held the promise of renewal. Checking her watch, she saw she had only fifteen minutes to dress before Chef Anton would be at the door. Then only half an hour before her guests would start arriving. She slipped quietly into her room. Clint groaned and rolled over.
“Come on, sleepy. Time to get up.” Nina ran her hand over his stubble and up into his hair.
Clint grabbed her wrist and held her palm on his face. “Can’t you come back to bed?”
“No time, sexy. Got people coming. Anton’ll be here in fifteen minutes, and I’m not dressed.”
“Not dressed?” He opened his eyes fully. “My favorite words, next to ‘don’t stop’ and—”
“I know. I know. Tomorrow’ll be different. But today is Thanksgiving.”
“And I need something more to be thankful for…” he said, pulling her into his arms.
She allowed him to kiss her and regretted all the pending plans when she’d rather go back to bed with him. Clint appeared even sexier when he was all warm from the night, his light brown hair unruly, a little growth of beard…but obligations were obligations.
Nina pushed away and tugged on his hand. “You’ve got to get Cory going, too.”
“Crap! Cory.” Clint bounced up and sprang into action.
It wasn’t long before the huge, empty apartment was filled with the greetings from new arrivals, people talking, the scrape of knives and forks colliding, and the pop of champagne corks as flutes were filled and refilled with mimosas made with freshly squeezed orange juice.
A cool wind blew through the rooms as people drifted out to the terrace to watch the parade, got cold, and returned inside to warm up and fill their bellies. Laughter and shrieks of delight greeted Nina’s ears as she glided out of the kitchen. Anton seemed to have everything in hand as plates with eggs Benedict artfully displayed flowed into the dining room. Trays of mini cream puffs, cannoli, and raspberry tartlets graced the sideboard.
“Big Bird!”
“Garfield’s coming.”
“Buzz Lightyear.”<
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And other announcements came from Nina’s friends and Cory, who was firmly planted at the terrace door, watching the enormous balloons floating by. Some of Nina’s guests stood, eating, while they watched. Others sat at the polished oak dining room table, chattering about their careers and guzzling mimosas.
Nina stood back, enjoying the sounds of life returning to the apartment. Clint stole up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Some party,” he whispered in her ear.
She nodded. “Isn’t it wonderful? Everyone seems to be having such a good time.”
He leaned down and kissed her neck, but released her when he felt a tug on his sleeve.
“Dad, Kermit. Spiderman!” Cory said, fisting his father’s shirt and pulling.
“Okay, okay, I’m coming.”
He shrugged at Nina and moved out onto the terrace with his son. The men wrapped their arms around their chests, attempting to stay warm. In about fifteen minutes, a frozen Cory and Clint sprinted into the dining room to retrieve mugs of steaming, hazelnut cocoa..
Nina lounged on the sofa with a mimosa next to Shady and Sara, two theater friends. Shady was doing a new off-Broadway play and the three chatted about it. Then, Lark, Sara’s younger sister, took Cory by the hand and led him outside to watch the parade. So, Clint joined Nina.
She introduced him to her friends and watched him repeat the names aloud in an effort to remember them all. The buzzer from the doorman sounded, indicating a late arrival. Nina shot a puzzled glance at Clint because everyone she had invited was there. She picked up a mimosa and went to the door to greet the mysterious visitor. He lounged on the arm of the sofa, keeping an eye on her as he listened to Sara talk about an audition.
When the door opened, a slim, handsome man in his fifties with stone gray hair and bright blue eyes entered. “Baby,” he said, stepping toward her.
“Norman!” Nina gushed, putting the champagne flute on the front hall table and allowing the man to fold her into his arms. Norman’s holding me too tight. Nina peeked around him, training her gaze on Clint.
He pushed to his feet, a slight frown clouding his face. Clint took a sip of champagne, his eyes steely, never leaving the embracing pair. Shady leaned over and whispered to him. Nina couldn’t hear, but she hoped it would reassure her lover.