Conflicted, Eleanor stretched out along the bottom of her boat and closed her eyes, allowing the gentle current to pull her along as she tried to relax. Warding off her panic today had taken its toll. What was that thing Jeanie had mentioned, Watsu? Whatever it was, it sounded like something Eleanor’s tense, aching muscles would welcome right about now. The thought of Jeanie's hands touching her bare skin, bending and stretching her floating limbs, sent her pulse ticking up once again. Now that would feel good.
A sudden thump on the bottom of the boat startled Eleanor from her reverie. Her eyes flew open, and her heart sped up from a gentle trot to a full gallop as she found herself completely in the dark. She bolted upright and cried out as her head slammed into something hard. The pain sent stars shooting behind her eyelids. She felt around in the blackness with mounting concern as her fingertips brushed jagged rock just inches around her on all sides. She was desperate to ring for help, but there was not an alarm button to be had. The panic she’d so neatly suppressed burst full-force inside her chest, and she felt a squeezing in her lungs as her airways constricted. There was nothing she could do. She was alone on a deserted lake, about to die.
“Jeanie?” The words barely escaped the stranglehold of her throat. It felt like the only word she knew.
“Eleanor?”
She heard Jeanie’s voice calling out, but at this point she was too far gone to feel relief. Instead she remained huddled in the bottom of the boat, gasping for breath, as Jeanie struggled to pull her boat free from the narrow passageway. Sensing more light, Eleanor opened her eyes a crack and saw Jeanie’s face above her, brimming with concern.
“It’s okay, Elle. You’re okay,” Jeanie assured her in the cooing tones one would use to soothe an infant. “You’ll be fine. Can you sit up and row? We’re not too far from the shore.”
Eleanor shook her head and shut her eyes tight, fear engulfing her.
“Okay. I’m going to climb into your boat and row us back.”
Eleanor felt the boat start to go topsy-turvy as Jeanie climbed over the edge, and a fresh rush of anxiety flooded her. She was barely aware of the trip back to the platform, or of the walk to the bus stop, or of anything much at all except for the constant, soothing drone of Jeanie’s voice in her ears. She called her Elle, just like Miriam always did, and it kept Eleanor from falling to pieces.
They were well into their return trip when Eleanor finally started to feel more like herself. And the more like her usual self she felt, the more she felt like crap. She'd been at her bitchiest, snarky and rude. And why? It wasn't her anxiety that had caused it, not at first. It was because Jeanie had been teasing her—the flirty kind of teasing, which she enjoyed—so why had she responded with all the maturity of some kid pulling a girl's pigtails on the schoolyard? Her mother's words of wisdom echoed in her head from long ago: He just does that because he likes you! Eleanor's shoulders slumped as she admitted to herself that she possessed all the emotional sophistication of a seven year old boy.
Eleanor glanced to where Jeanie sat beside her, her head resting against the window. She’d drifted off to sleep shortly after boarding the bus, and no wonder. Taking care of Eleanor in her panicked state had been an exhausting job. And she’d done it even though Eleanor had given her such a hard time the entire trip. She’d treated Jeanie unfairly, Eleanor knew she had. And she regretted it, so very much. She took a raspy breath, her physiology still not quite back to normal after the day's ordeal. She studied Jeanie's face, peaceful in slumber, and warm affection flooded her insides. If it hadn’t been for Jeanie rescuing her, she’d still be huddled in the bottom of a glorified laundry tub, wedged in a tunnel in the middle of a lake. After this, is it really possible we could still be friends?
She owed Jeanie an apology, at the very least for how she’d behaved in the lobby. Jeanie had done nothing wrong, other than make a mistake that anyone could've made in a foreign place. The Tapolca cave had turned out to be amazing, one of those lucky mistakes in which she seemed to specialize. It would’ve been a great excursion if Eleanor hadn’t ruined it—first with her attitude, then with her ridiculous panic attack. Just apologizing didn’t seem like enough after all of that. As the bus made its way back to Budapest and Jeanie slept by her side, Eleanor tried to think of what she could do to make it up to her and maybe win a second chance for herself in the process. She'd been so concerned with fighting off any romantic attachment that she'd lost sight of the numerous benefits of making a friend.
Chapter 11
Jeanie set her breakfast tray on the table, raising an eyebrow as she spotted a white envelope propped against her glass. “What’s this?”
Eleanor looked up from her book and shrugged. “Just a little thank you for taking care of me during my…distress…yesterday.” She set the book aside, and gestured toward the envelope. “It seemed like something you’d be interested in.”
Jeanie opened the envelope and pulled out two passes for one of the most exclusive thermal bath spas in Budapest. She’d heard of the place, but it was so far out of her price range that she’d never dreamed of going. “Eleanor! This is too much. I thought breakfast was your way of saying thanks. Speaking of which, I’m sorry I was late.” Not that it surprises you, I’m sure. She managed to keep the last part silent. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful for the unexpected generosity, but she could still feel the sting of Eleanor’s frequent lectures about her time management and organizational skills.
“I hadn’t even noticed.” The assertion sounded genuine. “And I can hardly count breakfast as anything special when you already know I have the meals included in my ticket, whether they get used or not.”
Jeanie eyed the coffee mug and half-eaten slice of toast at Eleanor’s place, then looked at her own overflowing plate with some chagrin. “You barely ate one meal, let alone two.”
“I’m not a big fan of breakfast. Especially not after…what happened yesterday. I probably shouldn’t be having caffeine, either, but I’m really not human without it.”
Jeanie laughed. She could relate to that as she required at least three cups of coffee each morning herself. “Wow, two all-access spa passes? Will we have enough time this morning before the ship departs for Slovakia?”
“Yes, just enough. But they’re for you, so don’t feel like you have to invite me along. To be honest, those passes came with my ticket package, as well, which is why I had two. You can take whomever you’d like, or go alone if you’d rather.”
Jeanie waved the comment aside. “Two passes will do me as much good as two breakfasts would do you. Besides, who else would I invite? We’re the only two non-old people on the ship, remember?”
“I don’t know. Some of them look downright sprightly. That lady over there’s kind of cute.”
Jeanie snorted. “Yeah, well, no offense to them, but I think I can live a long and happy life without seeing any of these ladies in their swim suits. Let alone out of them.” She’d said it flippantly, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth she saw Eleanor’s face turn fifty shades of red, and her own cheeks tingled in response. “I mean, not to imply that I want to see you—” Shit. I'm doing it again. She'd ignored her mother's warning and indulged in flirty banter yesterday, and look how that had turned out. She'd almost killed Eleanor!
“I’m afraid today’s spa is not clothing optional, just so you know.” Whether her tone was amused or annoyed was impossible to tell, and Jeanie squirmed uncomfortably.
“Eleanor, I have a confession.” One issue in particular had weighed on her conscience overnight, and she decided now was the time to get it off her chest. “That whole naked swimming thing yesterday was just a joke. I’d packed a spare suit for you. I didn’t mean to upset you. I…I don't know if that had anything to do with…”
“It was a panic attack,” Eleanor said, finally putting a name to it. “I get them sometimes when I’m stressed. It's just something that happens.”
Jeanie smiled reassuringly, but her insides bur
ned with shame at the role she'd played.
“You stayed so calm in the cave.”
“I'm a teacher. When you're the only adult in a room with thirty teenagers all day, you learn not to show fear.”
“You must be a fantastic teacher.”
Jeanie cast her eyes toward the table, embarrassed by the sincerity of Eleanor's compliment. She shrugged noncommittally. It's possible it was true, but teaching had never been where her heart was so it was hard to know how to feel. “I'm just used to keeping my head in an emergency.”
“Well, you handled mine like a pro. And, come to think of it, you didn’t even think my gardening tour thing was weird!”
“I never said it wasn’t weird!” Apparently even feeling ashamed of herself couldn't keep all her teasing in check. Jeanie tried to soften her tone. “But your quirks aren't so unusual. You should see some of the students I've had. Have you…um…talked to someone about this?” She wasn't completely certain what “this” might encompass: Anxiety? Depression? OCD? Whatever the label, where Jeanie came from, people didn't talk about things like that out in the open. Not outside of faculty members discussing a student's file. She hoped she wasn’t crossing a line by asking.
“Someone like a shrink?” Eleanor’s throaty laugh rang out as Jeanie cringed visibly at the blunt word choice. “Jeanie, I’m a Manhattan Jew. Of course I’ve seen a shrink. That little town you’re from has a movie theater, right? You’ve heard of Woody Allen, at least? Therapy is like a rite of passage for my people.”
“Ha. Ha. I was trying to be delicate about it, okay?” Jeanie blushed under Eleanor’s teasing grin. “Not everyone takes things like that in stride as well as you and 'your people' do, you know.”
“Sorry.” Eleanor’s expression became serious. “You’re right. But yes, I’ve been working with a therapist for years and it’s helped a lot. I have no problem admitting that. It’s having the anxiety in the first place that embarrasses me, not getting help for it. Not that that makes any sense.” She rolled her eyes as she said it, poking fun at herself this time.
“No, I get it.” Jeanie’s eyes locked with Eleanor’s and she felt a tremor run through her at the moment of understanding that seemed to pass between them. She didn’t know what to make of it and glanced away, looking at the dining room clock instead while the feeling passed. “Well, I guess I’d better go get my swimsuit if we’re going to make it to the spa in time.”
Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. “I thought your suit was stolen.”
“It was. But when I stopped at that shop to replace my backpack and buy you a tour book, they had bathing suits, too. They were buy one get one free, so I grabbed an extra. I told you before that I had one for you. It would’ve looked really good on you, too.” She’d meant to say it teasingly but her stomach clenched as the words tumbled out, realizing how much more suggestive it sounded out loud. Even worse was that she knew that was exactly how she’d meant it. “I mean, it was a very nice one-piece. Tasteful. Almost Amish, really,” she backpedaled as quickly as she could.
Jeanie looked away, feeling like an idiot under Eleanor’s gaze. All of the desire and confusion that was warring inside her had to be clear as day on her face. Just as she glanced back, Eleanor looked away, but not before Jeanie thought she’d caught the woman checking out the swath of bare skin above the plunging neckline of her blouse. The renewed ruddiness of Eleanor’s cheeks gave weight to this suspicion.
“Yes, well, I have my own suit,” Eleanor assured her, looking as out of sorts as Jeanie felt. “Maybe you should go with that Amish one for yourself today,” she concluded under her breath.
Jeanie bit back a nervous laugh. The teasing between them had started out lighthearted and fun, but now Jeanie felt a tension that could ruin their new friendship before it began. This flirtation is getting dangerous.
Back in her room after breakfast, Jeanie fretted as she contemplated the stacks of clothing that surrounded her. Her gaze fell on the two new swimsuits. As much as she loved the sexy two-piece she’d bought for herself the other day, there was no way she would wear it in front of Eleanor, not now. Not with this unspoken something that had just passed between them. The one-piece was a safer option. Jeanie’s only regret was that it wasn’t much more Amish than it was—a Victorian bathing dress, maybe. Or a burkini. Eleanor should have a burkini, too. Anything to keep the vibe between them strictly friends-only.
Jeanie was mindful again of her mother’s warning. Her naturally bubbly personality often led to being accused of flirting when she really wasn’t, but if she were completely honest, sometimes when Eleanor was around, Jeanie knew her actions were way more deliberate than that. She picked up the denim skirt she’d worn to the caves from the top of the pile and studied it reproachfully. If she hadn’t been trying to get a reaction from Eleanor, she would have worn something else. She knew Eleanor liked looking at her legs, and the truth of it was, Jeanie enjoyed knowing she was looking. But that’s just the harmless kind of flirting, right? It didn’t have to mean anything, or lead anywhere. It didn’t necessarily have to have consequences. But her mother had called it merciless, and maybe she was right.
What about your little joke yesterday, and how that ended up? She'd been pretending to be Eleanor since they left the bus station, and the intoxicating effects of all that charisma had given her a real rush. Still under the influence, Jeanie had thrown out the suggestion of skinny dipping without a thought, but when she saw Eleanor’s hilarious response, she’d just kept it up. She was still almost certain that her joke had played a role in the panic attack that followed, even if Eleanor denied it. She hadn’t realized the severity of Eleanor’s anxiety at the time, but that wasn’t really an excuse. There was just something about teasing Eleanor, and even being teased in return, that Jeanie found exhilarating.
The only explanation she could offer was that there was nothing she enjoyed more than cracking the smooth veneer off a polished city girl. It was a skill she’d perfected in college, and it never got old. Plus, Eleanor was particularly adorable when she was out of sorts. Watching a grown woman blush and stutter at the mention of swimming naked had been too much fun to resist. And it wouldn’t have been a problem, except thinking back on it, she had to admit that it had been arousing, as well. And that was going to be a problem.
Jeanie found it confusing. Despite the obvious spark between them, she’d already written Eleanor off time and again. They were polar opposites. And Eleanor could be sarcastic, and judgmental, and hard to read. But every time Jeanie convinced herself of what a bad idea it would be, she’d be surprised by Eleanor’s kindness, or vulnerability, or charming dry wit. And then she'd start the debate all over again.
She liked Eleanor, not just in the grade school euphemism kind of way, but really liked her and valued the possibility of becoming her friend. She enjoyed spending time with her. But the more time they spent together, the greater the temptation to fool herself into thinking there could be something more. And even if she might reconsider a shipboard fling, hard as it would be to end it when the time came, she knew for certain that Eleanor was not on the same page. Despite how well they got on, just the thought of that type of intimacy seemed to trigger her anxiety. And that was the last thing Jeanie wanted to do.
With a sigh, Jeanie shoved her modest one-piece into her backpack with a heavy heart. She was looking forward to the spa trip, but maybe this needed to be their last outing together. Maybe she should spend more time in dance classes, where Eleanor was certain not to go. As much as she wanted to spend the next few weeks touring Europe with Eleanor, she didn’t trust her ability to keep herself in check. She'd done a rotten job of it so far. Spending time with Eleanor was like playing with matches: a terrible idea that was very hard to resist. But resist she would. It was the only thing she could do to avoid hurting them both.
Chapter 12
The warm water swirled between Eleanor’s fingers and toes as she moved them slowly back and forth, her body gently suspended
at the surface of the bath. She’d never felt more relaxed in her life as she did in this moment, with little more than her nose poking out into the humid air. She held her breath and plunged under the water completely, bobbing to the surface and wiping the water from her eyes.
“See? Doesn’t that feel wonderful?”
Eleanor opened her eyes and looked at Jeanie, who was watching her from a nearby side of the octagonal pool. The bath itself, surrounded by marble arches and topped with a towering dome peppered with openings that allowed in dappled sunlight, was easily large enough to hold a hundred people. It was an exclusive spa, and nowhere near capacity this morning, but just enough men and women soaked or swam in the vicinity to make Eleanor feel at ease in a way that she wouldn't have if they’d been alone.
“You know, I really do.”
It was an unexpected sensation. When the idea first occurred to her to give Jeanie the passes, knowing she’d likely be invited along, Eleanor had been filled with anxiety. Of course, coming off a panic attack the way she had, such feelings weren’t unexpected, but it hadn’t been the general anxiety that usually plagued her. Her concern had had a specific and rational source. Jeanie. Jeanie, in the intimate setting of a bath, exuding whatever force it was that made Eleanor contemplate ideas and actions that went against all common sense and could lead to heartbreak.
Jeanie tilted her head back, her body floating just beneath the top of the water. Eleanor followed suit. They bobbed along in friendly silence, a safe distance separating them, and Eleanor could almost laugh at her earlier worries.
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