Dancing Hours

by Jennifer Browning

  I took Sharon up on her bet. When I returned to the table, X stood up and assisted me to my seat. I thanked him for that and also for a lovely evening, but he protested immediately. “Please don’t give up on me now. I want to take you to a show tonight.”

  “A show?” I looked at the spot on my arm where my watch would be if I had been wearing one. It was a reflex that made me feel stupid. “It’s late..” I began, but before I could get the rest of the thought out, X reminded me that it was his birthday. I reluctantly agreed and texted my roommate to cancel our morning jog – and somewhere in the back of my mind to let her know where I was. I didn’t realize that I had just agreed to a private jet trip to Las Vegas.

  I was nervous on the flight, this was all so much and I was starting to think my emergency $20 wasn’t going to cover getting into trouble now. X acted like a perfect gentleman, as promised. In fact it was more like a loving boyfriend. He had skipped straight past all of the getting to know each other and see if we like each other. He was effusive with compliments, held my hand like I was a prized possession and was quick to express jealousy if I smiled at someone else. It made me uncomfortable.

  I reassured him three times that evening that I wasn’t flirting with anyone. That’s when it clicked for me, this guy really was bad news. In what I thought was a stroke of genius on the flight home I asked if I could transfer the contents of his old wallet to the new one I had made. He smiled at me as though I had finally accepted my fate as his girlfriend and handed over his two wallets. I noted that his wallet was worn well with a couple of holes. I felt embarrassed at pulling out a wad of cash to transfer, then credit cards, some phone numbers (one had a kiss print on it), a condom (that couldn’t have been more embarrassing) and finally what I had been looking for – a driver’s license. The date of birth listed was nowhere near today’s date. And it said that he was 15 years my senior.

  “This says you were born in August.” I held it in my hand.

  His dark eyes flickered to me with what momentarily appeared to be anger, then cooled as a calm mask returned to his face. He pulled the wallet and its contents away from me carefully.

  “In my line of business, I find that it’s beneficial to keep my personal details under wraps. That license doesn’t have my correct address on it either, in case you were wondering.” He looked away quickly as if he thought he might cry then got down on his knees in front of me, laying his head in my lap and wrapping his arms around my hips.

  “I will never lie to you. You mean so much to me.” He said. I couldn’t see his face and that made it harder to tell if he was being sincere.

  Those were words that every girl wants to hear. A passionate man professing that you are his world, that everyone else may be lied to, but he will always be honest with you. The problem was he hardly knew me. I wanted to believe him, to believe that in spite of his strange behavior and professional life he was a good person inside and I wanted to be needed that badly. Perhaps my judgment was off. In the late night hours, it seemed like he cared about me and I about him. I patted his back awkwardly and told him it was okay, but I really didn’t know what to think.

  When the limo stopped at my apartment, I thanked him again for the evening. I was so tired I was dreaming with my eyes open. Just as I turned to get out, I felt his hand on mine. I looked back at our hands, then up at him. He abruptly kissed me. I had expected it, but it was still a surprise. He reached up and caressed my face, my hair and I managed a weak smile. He said good night and that he would call me in the morning, which technically it already was.

  I felt his eyes watching as I went into my apartment building. I collapsed into bed realizing that his kiss hadn’t felt right, wondering why I’d thought of David when I mentioned X wasn’t my type and hoping that X wouldn’t call. Unfortunately, I was not that lucky. He called too early and I ignored the call and went back to bed. The phone rang again 15 minutes later and 15 more after that. Finally, I answered.

  “Good morning, Michael” I yawned into the phone.

  “Why didn’t you answer? I was worried about you.” He accused. I stepped out onto the balcony so I wouldn’t bother my roommate.

  “Worried? Why would you worry? I was sleeping.” I countered.

  “Alright, but I just wanted to see that you’re okay.” He said.

  “Yes, I’m okay. Thanks for checking. I’m going back to sleep now.” I wasn’t being very nice to him. I slept until almost noon, then showered and changed. When the doorbell rang that day I knew exactly who it was and what he had – a welcome dose of home grown comfort.

  13

  My middle aged courier’s name was Ed Wright. He was a friend of the family and had heard stories about Nan his entire life. Nan and his parents had been very good friends when she lived in Los Angeles. Other than that, he said I’d have to ask Nan for details.

  These days when he came, I always invited him in. We’d sit and chat for a few minutes, I knew that he was married, had some kids in middle school and was a businessman, which seemed to have special meaning to people out here. I looked forward to my talks with Ed. He’d told me once that Nan mailed him her packages because she wanted Ed to keep an eye on me. I thought it was sweet. I had never had an uncle.

  That day my package consisted of a plane ticket home for summer, a new bikini, flip flops and store bought cookies – classic Nan. I laughed and Ed laughed with me.

  “I guess she wants you to come home.” He said laughing.

  “I guess she does.” I agreed. But the more I thought about it, the sadder I was. It’s not that I didn’t want to go home… I really missed everyone. But I was starting to feel like I didn’t fit there anymore. Before I knew it, I was crying uncontrollably.

  “Feeling homesick, kid?” He asked.

  Ed looked a little uncomfortable, like most men confronted with a crying woman. He offered me a glass of water and I laughed. The same thing had happened to me once when my Jeep broke down and the guy at the garage told me it would cost over a thousand dollars to fix it. At any rate, I thought it was funny and when I laughed Ed did too. The awkwardness of the moment was gone.

  I saw him looking at the expensive dress that was carefully laid over the couch. The lady at the store had said something about letting it air out or breathe or something like that after wearing it. I never heard of such a thing, but I’d never owned a dress that had three zeros at the end of the price.

  He asked about the dress, probably because it seemed so out of place in my humble apartment. I gave him a brief, watered down version of my interactions with X. He cocked his head to the side and studied me with a quizzical expression on his face.

  “I haven’t known you that long, Andy, but that doesn’t sound like the kind of deal you should get involved in.” He said, sounding fatherly.

  “I know.” I said, embarrassed.

  “Maybe you ought to talk to your Nan about this guy.” He said gently.

  He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. Fortunately, he changed the subject pretty quickly.

  “I know you just had a birthday and my wife thought you might like something from this makeup store.” He said handing me a card with a gift card inside to a makeup store that I had seen before. It was very trendy, almost intimidating. Everyone inside that store was beautiful and impeccably dressed. I was pretty sure I would like something from that store.

  “That is so nice of you both. You didn’t have to do anything like that.” I said earnestly.

  “It’s nothing, really. I hope you have fun.” He smiled.

  I thanked him and hugged him warmly. He seemed a little reluctant at first, but another rule I have about hugs is that you don’t let go until you get a hug back. He did and I was happy. I felt a little less alone in this big, impersonal city.

  After he left, I felt oddly buzzed with energy. I’d been jogging with Sunday several times a week, but nothing made me feel as good as dancing. I made it my mission to find a studio I could use nearby. The
campus gym had an open room that would work, but it was usually in use for exercise classes. It took me three hours and a stroke of luck to find a small hole in the wall yoga studio and work out a deal. They weren’t willing to let me come in after hours to work out, and I could understand that. They didn’t know me so they had no reason to trust me.

  I ended up paying for a membership and got the class schedule so that I could come in between classes to dance. It felt a little foreign at first. The room was dark with no windows or mirrors and it took me some time to figure out the dimensions of the room. But when I got into a rhythm, it felt good.

  14

  During the week, X texted and called me a couple of times. I kept our conversations brief, mostly because it didn’t really feel like we had anything to talk about. He was surprisingly encouraging of me doing well in school and said he didn’t want to take me away from my studies. I was grateful for that and wondered if I misjudged him.

  He was also polite enough to ask me out on Wednesday for a date Friday night. I agreed so long as we went to a restaurant of my choice – which was a local dive Mexican restaurant. X agreed saying that as long as he was with me he’d be happy.

  The restaurant was walking distance from my apartment and X was dressed similarly to when I first met him: jeans and a leather jacket. He was waiting downstairs for me and called the robo-phone for me to come down. When he saw me, he stood from the low wall he was leaning against and held out his arms for me to come give him a hug. I did and he wrapped his arms around me with a hand on the back of my head. I was pretty sure he smelled my hair. Good thing I washed it.

  I felt a little embarrassed at the familiarity and wondered if anyone saw us. If they had, I doubt they would believe we were on our second date. He held my hand as we walked the streets to the restaurant and intentionally stepped between me and anyone that was walking past us. It was a protective gesture, I suppose, but completely unnecessary. It made me think of some of the videos I’d seen in Anthropology class of gorillas exhibiting aggressive behavior over a mate. In the restaurant, he insisted on sitting with his back to the wall and a view of the door and alluded to being able to see potential dangers. It was exhausting - all this cryptic pretense at danger in the world. Maybe his world was dangerous. Mine was anything but.

  I found that we had very little to talk about while we ate dinner. We covered the highlights of our last date, but X’s favorite topic of conversation was just how much he was into me. It felt forced. He didn’t seem to have a sense of humor, he couldn’t relate to my stories about college and he took a lot of “important” phone calls about work. As we left the restaurant, he held the door for me and then found an opportunity right there in front of the restaurant to kiss me.

  He took my face in both hands and planted one of those soft, slow kisses on me that should make a girl swoon. It just wasn’t doing anything for me. Aside from the fact that I was not a huge fan of public displays of affection, I just did not have those kind of feelings for X. I don’t think he could tell; it took me a minute to wrap up the kiss.

  We walked back to my apartment and I was quietly thinking. I guess that tipped him off that something was amiss.

  “What’s wrong, Andrea? You seem pensive.” He asked.

  After a few moments, I responded. “I just don’t think that we’re right for each other. I’m really sorry. I will absolutely return the dress and stuff to you, but things are just moving way too quickly and I think we should take a breather.” I had stopped walking and noticed that I was holding my arms up in a defensive way.

  He looked at me stunned as if he had no idea this was coming. I felt terrible.

  “Is there someone else?” he flashed an angry look.

  “No.”

  “What did I do wrong?” He asked.

  “Nothing. I just need some time to process all of this.” I explained, consciously dropping my arms back to my sides.

  “I have offended you.” He looked down sadly.

  “No, seriously, you just need to give me some time to myself.” It sounded lame, even to me. It’s not you, it’s me.

  “Andrea, I would die if I did anything to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. You can take as much time as you need, but please don’t say that it’s over. I couldn’t bear to lose you. I need you. I know that I could never be good enough to deserve you, but please give me a chance to try. And those things that I gave you, they mean nothing. I don’t want them back… even if I never see you again, those are just a small token of my appreciation for allowing me to spend time with you. I love you.” He reached out to hug me. I stepped back away from him.

  Whoa. Did he really just whip out the L word? That was manipulation 101.

  “You love me? How can you love me? You hardly know me. I think you’re in love with some idea of what you think I am, but you don’t even know my middle name yet.” I said harshly.

  “I do. It’s Louise.” He said looking me directly in the eye.

  “See? Now that’s just creepy. I don’t even want to know how you know that.” I said walking away. He walked to keep pace beside me.

  “Don’t call me creepy!” He yelled, grabbing my arm and squeezing hard. Then as quickly as it was there, he quieted down letting me go. I could feel blood rushing to the spot he’d held and knew it would bruise. “I understand. I’ve upset you. I never want to do that. Take some time and I will wait for you to call me. Can I kiss you just one more time?” He asked.

  “No!” I yelled so loudly that some people nearby looked over at us.

  At that I stormed off into my building rubbing the sore spot on my arm. I was almost positive that I would never be calling him again.

  I had trouble sleeping that night. I was freaked out and a little mad. I mostly felt uncomfortable; I’d never had to break up with someone before. I’d dated guys, but it never really worked out and usually we both just kind of knew it. Sunday had gone through a really awkward period with a guy she’d been dating where she either didn’t return his calls or told him she was busy until he finally just gave up. I thought it was a little cruel, but she was not a fan of confrontation either and it seemed to be the only way she could get out of something she did not want to be in.

  She wasn’t home that night when I got there. I thought about calling my mom or Nan, but decided they would be in bed already. Kate didn’t answer her phone and I didn’t want to leave a message. It left me with one person to talk to – David.

  He picked up on the second ring and I asked if he had been sleeping. It sounded like he had, but he pretended that he wasn’t. It was good to hear his voice.

  “Do you have a few minutes?” I asked.

  “For you? I’ve got a few hours. What’s up?” I couldn’t hear anything in the background. I imagined him sitting there in the dark with the phone to his ear.

  Suddenly it felt wrong to talk about X with David. We’d never talked about who we were dating or if we were dating people. I don’t know why I never brought it up with him, but it just felt like something that was outside our friendship. I thought that if I talked to him about X somehow it would hurt his feelings. Deep down, I guess I knew that he liked me and I wasn’t sure how I felt about him, but I knew that I didn’t want to ruin it, whatever it was that was between us. So I chickened out.

  “I just had a bad week and it’s getting worse. Tell me what’s going on with you so I can get my mind off of it.”

  “You don’t want to talk about it?”

  “No, I really don’t. How have you been?”

  “Well, I’m glad you called, I’ve had a big week myself.”

  He told me about his job at the mall and being promoted to manager of the store so I congratulated him. He was making enough money now to get his own apartment and afford real after-school care for Jessica. Mrs. Merchant had pretended to be sad, but looked more relieved than anything else.

  Then we had a long talk about his dream to write a book and feeling like he was stuck. I was familiar with th
e feeling of being stuck in Palmetto. Noah called him every once in a while to talk to Jessica and she enjoyed that. He was happy that she was doing well in school and seemed to be thriving, but he felt like something was missing for him.

  “Maybe you just need a girlfriend.” I offered, knowing that I was stepping on a very thin line.

  After long seconds that felt like an eternity, he responded “Are you volunteering for the job?”

  I laughed out loud unintentionally. He had no way of knowing what kind of night I just had, but being anybody’s girlfriend sounded like a bad idea to me.

  “It’s not that funny.” He complained lightly.

  “I’m sorry, I know it’s not. It was just really bad timing.”

  “Ah, I see. Speaking of bad timing, Holly called me. I don’t even know how she got my number, but she called.” He left it hanging there in the air and I surmised that it meant something important.