The Fated Dance: Bound to the Shadow Dancer

by Leeann Whitaker

  I stare at Flick. This will be the first time we’ve been apart for so long, ever. I hope I’m doing the right thing. I need to believe I am. Not just by her, but by Grayson too.

  “You look after him, and yourself,” she sobs. “I know it’s hard, Jen. But you and I both know you can’t let him go off on his own.” She presses her hands on my cheeks. “I like the guy. He’s cool in a kind of weird British way,” she grins. “I know you’ll do your best, and I’m only a phone call away, okay.”

  I hold her close, breathing deep. I never thought I’d hear words of approval or advice from Flick, about any guy I’m involved with. And as if the gods are laughing, the guy she does actually like, is going to die.

  ***

  Grayson sits in his Range Rover, facing forward with his shades on, and Henry is parked up behind him. Flick lumbers by me with her daisy covered suitcase as I lock the front door. I give her one last squeeze, and descend the porch steps with my large black bag. Grayson remains still. He doesn’t even turn his head to look at me.

  I open the tailgate as Henry appears next to me. “Jen,” he pats my back, sympathetically. “There’s a list of numbers in the glove box, and a bag of medication in here.” He taps on the lid of a cooler box. “Don’t worry, it’s all in liquid form: morphine, steroids, and antibiotics. Whether he takes them or not is another thing.”

  I grab the rim on the tailgate and bend over. I don’t think I can do this. I’m not a nurse. How do I care for him?

  “Jen, it might not come to that,” he wraps his arm around my shoulder. “You have lit up his life, continue to do so.”

  “But what if I make things worse… what if he passes out and I can’t help him?” I panic. “What if…” I snivel.

  “Jen, all you have to do is try. If it gets too much, then we’ll take it from there,” he says. “You have my number. You need me, call.” He rubs my hand, then goes to his car to wait for Flick.

  I wipe my eyes, close the tailgate, and see Flick sticking her face through the driver’s side window. Whatever it is she is saying to Grayson, he’s responding with caution across his face. She pecks his cheek, and lowers her head as she approaches Henry’s car.

  I fill my lungs with nervous air while opening the passenger door. I slip down into the seat to see Grayson studying me with a bemused expression.

  “What?”

  “Your sister has just told me that she will kill me if I don’t look after you,” he raises his brow. “So I’m going to have to do as I’m told,” he smiles.

  Oh my god. I cannot believe she said that to a dying man. My sister and subtle are on completely different sides of the spectrum.

  I remain quiet and pull over my seatbelt. His eyes burn the side of my face but I can’t turn my head to look at him. I have this invisible lasso compressing my throat, and I can’t shake off the depression.

  “Jen,” he says in a soft tone.

  With every muscle straining in my neck, I apprehensively turn while biting my lip. He removes his shades so I can see a sadness coating his blue eyes. I don’t want to see this dark profound look on his face. This is not my Grayson.

  “I wasn’t going to come,” he admits. “Last night, I sat in the car for three hours with a bottle of whisky, talking myself into leaving without you.” His head falls to his chest. “I should have.”

  “No Grayson,” I snap. “You’re here, and what you need to do is… is just forget everything, please.”

  He tilts his head, “Can you?”

  My eyelids close briefly. “It’s gone,” I say firm. “I’m leaving the shit behind and so should you.”

  “Okay,” he breathes out. “You ready then?”

  “Yeah… but are you okay to drive?”

  He laughs. “Really?” He indicates and pulls out. “I’m as good as it gets, Jen. I’m with you.”

  I shuffle my butt right back into the seat. I watch as Flick moves further away in the wing mirror, until I can no longer see her. My breath stops for a second, feeling that maternal instinct I have for her.

  “She’ll be fine with Henry,” Grayson says. “You should give her more credit. I’ve met the most ruthless business characters. And Flick, well,” he blows out. “She would thrash anyone of them around the table.” I giggle, because he’s absolutely right.

  It’s around a six hour drive where we’re going. A place he owns in Redwood Forest, Oregon. When he said he wanted to do this without interference, he wasn’t kidding. Though, I’m not stupid. I made sure I got Jenkins cell, home, and office number. I’ve even got his email address, in case I need general advice that isn’t urgent.

  We’ve now been on the road for nearly three hours. Such a long drive would bore most, but the scenery is beautiful. And as dreadful as this situation is, there’s a sense of freedom as we coast along with all the windows down, and the summer wind blowing through our hair.

  “Right, I need to take a leak.” Grayson pulls up to a roadside diner called: Maria’s. He undoes his belt and scrambles out of the car. “You coming.” He bobs on the spot, urgently. “Coffee, pie?” he gestures his hand. “I need to go… now.”

  I quickly jump out onto the dry dirt, before he explodes in his jeans, watching as he dashes ahead to the men’s room.

  I make my way inside and wait for Grayson. My view takes in the typical deco you’d find in a diner such as this. There are around fifteen red leather 50s style booths on one side. And there’s a long stainless steel counter on the other, with a variety of pies displayed under glass domes. It’s cool, refreshing, and has a friendly atmosphere.

  “Hey there.” A woman dressed in a blue rockabilly dress, with Victoria’s rolls in her hair, beams her red painted lips at me. “Can I get you a table?”

  “Yes please,” Grayson appears over my shoulder, fixing the waist on his jeans.

  The waitress takes us to a booth at the very end, and hands us each a menu. I perch on the firm leather, and Grayson sits opposite.

  “I’m Jenny by the way,” the waitress chirps. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, black please,” Grayson says. “Jen?”

  “Can I get a fresh orange please?”

  “Squeezed or carton?”

  I frown. “Err… squeezed.”

  “Good, good,” Jenny grins. “You two sweethearts check out the menu, and I’ll go fetch your drinks.”

  I’m still frowning at our overexcited waitress, and Grayson is now laughing at me under his breath.

  “Maybe they could give us some of what she’s had to go,” he jokes, then grimaces in pain, altering the waistband of his jeans again.

  “Grayson?” I fret.

  He stops fidgeting and stays perfectly still. He’s trying to pretend to be okay, to fool me, but it isn’t going to work.

  “I’m great, how can I not be,” he gestures his hand across the window. “Roadside diner, summer sun, and I’m sat with the hottest girl I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

  “Grayson,” I circle my eyes.

  “Look, I’m not kidding… now stop worrying.”

  Jenny holds a tray above my head, leans over, and places our drinks on the table. Grayson’s eyes have been fixated on that counter for the last thirty seconds. Curious, I take a quick look, but still I haven’t got a clue what has caught his eye.

  “So what can I get you both to eat?” Jenny asks.

  “Two of those Banoffee pies,” he points.

  I turn and look in the direction he’s pointing. My eyes widen at a board which has customer’s photos displayed. Right before each of them, are huge plates the size of trashcan lids. The name of the board is: The Bottomless Pie Pit Challenge. Now, some of those customers do not look happy. In fact, they look really ill.

  “No chance,” I snap.

  “What do we get if we complete this challenge?” Grayson asks, much to my annoyance.

  Jenny dashes to the counter and pulls something red out from behind. She opens it and waves it like a magician’s assistance, with a
big cheesy grin on her face. It’s a t-shirt with the diners logo boldly printed in white. Why on earth would anyone want to stuff so much pie down their neck they’d burst, to win such a crappy item of clothing?

  “So,” Jenny hums. “Do we have two contenders?”

  “No we don’t.”

  Grayson nods, disappointed. “Fine, we’ll have one to share then.”

  “Well, ain’t that sweet.” She writes on her pad while smiling, then trots back to the counter.

  “I could have been on that wall forever,” Grayson jokes.

  “I refuse to lose you early to a Banoffee pie. Jeez, a muffin would have been just fine.”

  “Well, who’s in a shitty mood,” he teases.

  “I’m not in a mood.” I shuffle up as Jenny places on the table the huge plate full of cream, toffee, and bananas. “I’m just not hungry. There are people starving out there you know.”

  He laughs, handing me a spoon. “Eat, and stop scowling at me.”

  We both dig our spoons deep into the copious sloppy filling. It’s nice, but way too sickly for me. So far, I’ve only managed three mouthfuls. I lean back to stretch out my full gut as Grayson hovers his full spoon before my lips, flirtatiously.

  “One more, and we’ll resolve to the fact we’ve successfully failed this challenge.”

  I giggle, part my lips, and he slips the cool pie filling into my mouth.

  “That’s it,” I blow out as he sweetly smiles with a slanted brow. “What?”

  He leans across the table and wipes the side of my lip, to show a blob of cream on his thumb before sucking it off. I laugh and pull a paper napkin out of the holder.

  “Do you want to drive for a while?” he asks.

  “Why, you feeling ill?”

  “No Jen,” his eyes spool. “I thought you’d like to drive, that’s all.”

  I haven’t driven a car in months. I used to use Dad’s old Volvo, until it broke down, leaving me stranded outside Venus. It cost me a small fortune to have it towed back to the house. And since then, it’s been left outside on the driveway to rust away.

  “Okay.”

  We make our way out into the heat of the midday sun. Grayson hands me the keys as we approach the car. A young loved up couple stand only feet away, giggling. He stops to watch them as they take selfies of each other. He snatches the keys back off me, opens the tailgate, and takes out a state of the art camera from his bag. I frown as he fiddles with it, while walking up to the young couple.

  “Sorry for interrupting,” he says. “Would you mind taking a photo?” he turns and waves at me.

  The young blonde haired girl smiles and takes the camera as Grayson gestures me over. I hate my picture being taken. Even as a child I would shy away when the lens came out. I reluctantly stand still as Grayson strides across to me.

  “Jen, I want a photo of us… come on,” he slides his hand across my shoulders.

  The young girl tells us to smile as Grayson inclines his head so we’re cheek to cheek. I beam as the flash of the camera hits my vision.

  “There you go,” the young girl holds out the camera, anxious to get back to her boyfriend.

  Grayson thanks the young couple as they playfully make their way toward the diner, arm in arm. Young love should be happy. But seeing them both on cloud nine, reminded me that time is against Grayson and I. We will never have that.

  He checks out the image on the digital screen as I try to contain my misery. He chuckles and shows me the picture. It makes me chuckle because our faces look huge on it; taken on full zoom it appears. But within seconds, my smile dissipates.

  “Why the sudden gloom?”

  “Nothing… I’m fine,” I lie.

  He hands the keys back to me. “Let’s roll then.”

  After I’ve familiarized myself with dashboard, we set off on our way. When driving a new vehicle, it’s common to make the odd mistake, but I haven’t made one yet. Compared to my dad’s car, this is a breeze to drive. It’s so comfortable and I feel confident, as though I’ve drove this car for years. I’m loving it.

  Grayson has been messing around with stereo for the past hour. He seems to be enjoying himself, not having the responsibility of driving, taking in the striking scenery as we arrive on the Oregon border. I’ve listened to Beethoven, Mozart, upbeat dance tracks, and Billy Joel (which was a little unexpected) Now he’s flicking swiftly through a classic rock album.

  Guitar chords twang through the speakers. Immediately I know the song from its undeniable beginning: Don’t Fear the Reaper. I scowl across at him. I do like the song, but find it inappropriate. His foot taps to the beat and he begins to drum his hands on his thighs.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Shush,” he laughs. “Don’t spoil this. You got to admit, it’s a great song,” he turns the volume up louder.

  “Yeah and?” I huff.

  He begins to strum his unseen air guitar. “Come on, Jen,” he laughs. “Lighten up.”

  “We’re you like born in another era or something. Your song choices are what my dad would listen to,” I frown.

  “Romeo and Juliet…” he sings, completely ignoring me.

  I nod my head and sigh, keeping my view on the road. Should I be more relaxed about this? He is. He’s transforming from sophisticated polite businessman, to young at heart, with no worries in the world. I love seeing him like this. It’s a part of him that’s new to me. A part I want to keep forever.

  ***

  Grayson has now taken over driving duty as we near our destination. He insisted as he didn’t want me getting us lost. We’re surrounded by evergreen pines, letting in fragments of sunlight that bounce off the road. It’s such a wonderful place. The snow peaked caps on the great mountains in this thirty degree heat, is a sight I never thought I’d see.

  We move by a large log cabin called: Big Basin’s grocery store. The carpark is full of people, hikers, and shoppers, stocking up for their summer vacation. There are massive modern RV’s parked up, with families outside stretching their legs after spending hours on the road.

  “Nearly there.” Grayson turns left onto a dirt track, around half a mile out from the grocery store.

  I look ahead and see a strange sight. A contemporary glass, warm wood, and steel building. It has sleek lines, like it has been plucked from a modern suburbia, and plonked in the middle of the forest.

  Grayson shuts down the engine and unbuckles himself. “Finally.”

  He gets out and walks to the back of the car, while shaking his legs to normalize blood flow. I open the door, noticing all the lights on inside the house. It’s an amazing place. Not too big, or too small. And as unconventional as it is, it still looks homely.

  Grayson carries my bag. I can see from his arched body, and the way he holds his arm across his stomach, that he’s struggling with it. I hurry to his side and take it off him. He straightens up and with a deep outbreath, he opens the door.

  “Grayson, you need to sit down.”

  “Soon,” he huffs.

  I carry my bag through the door and my jaw spontaneously drops open. It’s bright and all open-plan. The kitchen cupboards are cream with black worktops. The lounge area is situated before the stunning backdrop through the windows. The view through the glass panels across the entire back of the building is dreamlike. With great trees and a vast blue lake in the distance. I linger, staring in awe.

  “You like?” Grayson asks.

  “It’s amazing.”

  He holds his hip and trudges by me, “I’ll show you upstairs.”

  Concerned, I follow him up a wood and glass staircase. There is something really wrong with him. His legs are unsteady and I fear he might fall. Mercifully, he manages get to the top. I drop my bag and take hold of his hand.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s been a long journey that’s all,” he plays down his pain. “R and R is what I need.”

  He shows me through a door straight ahead. I enter a large bright cozy room
with a cream carpet under foot. The queen-size bed is made of oak, with a huge panel headboard and foot base. I turn to face Grayson. He’s stood before a set of folding tinted glass doors, which lead out onto a spacious balcony. It’s picturesque, with a large lounger that overlooks the lake, mountains, and sky.

  “I’ll let you settle in,” he turns away, sluggish.

  “Grayson?”

  “I’m fine Jen.” He closes the door on me.

  I quickly sort of my toiletries, and hang my clothes up in the walk-in closet next to Grayson’s. I feel as though I can’t leave him alone for too long in-case something bad happens.

  I pick up my empty bag and hear a rattling sound. I frown, sticking my hand right to the bottom, to pull out the cause of the noise. My heart booms against my ribs. My birth control pills. A new sachet which I should have started taking yesterday. I have just realized, I’ve skipped an entire period. With everything that’s going on, I completely forgot Mother Nature hadn’t paid me a visit on time.

  I tap the sachet on my hand, feeling queasy. Maybe the reason I’ve missed one is stress. I’m very emotional right now. One minute everything feels great, and the next I’m wanting to scream and cry. It’s got to have played havoc with my hormones. I’m on birth control; it’s basically foolproof.

  Her Star Arrakis

  Jen has been gone for half an hour. She asked for the car keys and said she needed to go to the grocery store for something, in an agitated state. I didn’t ask questions. Reasons: it’s not my place. And I got the distinct impression it was for something feminine, which is a topic I don’t really care to discuss, or go into detail on.

  She’s been acting weird since we arrived. All day yesterday she drifted in and out of a moody trance. I thought I’d show her around the place. Take in some fresh air on a nice woodland walk. I’d talk to her, but it was as though her mind was elsewhere, and I got nothing but a half-hearted reply. I was pissed. All the effort I made and she gives me the cold shoulder. She didn’t even seem that impressed with the area. I mean, it’s a hell of a lot nicer than Berkley. I don’t really know all the ins and outs of what women go through. So I’ve backed off, hoping she’ll open up, or calm down soon. If she has any regrets about being here (which is how it’s coming across) she needs to tell me before it’s too late.