Waltzing on the Danube

by Miranda MacLeod

  The trouble was that too often people mistook her outer reserve for a lack of feeling, and that was far from the truth. Eleanor felt emotions as deeply as anyone. She just kept them inside. It was why a shipboard romance, so tempting in theory for a quick physical release, in reality could go so wrong. She would become too attached, especially to someone like Jeanie who seemed to exert a special power over her without even realizing it.

  But Eleanor needn’t have worried. Jeanie was on her best behavior today. She probably should have felt more grateful for that fact, instead of vaguely let down. Jeanie behaving herself was rather like being on a diet and having your favorite restaurant run out of chocolate cake. Just because you weren't planning to order a slice didn't mean you weren't looking forward to admiring it from the other side of the glass case.

  “So, that’s all that Watsu stuff is? Just floating?” Eleanor hoped the other woman didn’t detect the disappointment in her voice. It’s just that, after the buildup Jeanie had given it, she’d expected something more. A little chocolate frosting, and some sprinkles.

  “That’s not all, but it’s all you need to know,” Jeanie said, almost primly, in response.

  “Hm. After all your talk of learning it from that girl at camp…” Eleanor’s voice trailed off. Part of her waited eagerly for a tart response, while the other part wondered why she couldn’t leave well enough alone. Jeanie was finally behaving herself, her usually flirtatious personality firmly in check, so why did Eleanor feel compelled to egg her on?

  Jeanie bit her lip, looking sheepish. “Yeah, about that…I may have made that story sound more interesting than it was. For one thing, it wasn’t one of the female counselors who showed me the technique, it was a guy. And it was an after hours recreational activity with half a dozen other people. Everything was strictly professional.”

  Eleanor laughed. “That does put a different spin on it. So, why were you at this camp? This wasn’t so long ago that you were a camper, was it?”

  “No, a camp counselor. I’ve done it almost every summer since college. Between museum internships and teaching, I haven’t made the most lucrative career choices. Frankly, I needed the money.”

  Eleanor felt surprised by the admission. Despite having talked about Jeanie’s job before, and knowing that she was traveling on an economy ticket, Eleanor mostly had forgotten the difference in their financial circumstances. Jeanie had replaced her tour book, and paid for her bus ticket to Tapolca cave. It occurred to Eleanor that these gestures had probably caused quite a strain on her budget, but Jeanie had never let on. Her personality stood in stark contrast to Sylvia, who used to bring the money issue up frequently to convince Eleanor to pay for things. Eleanor had usually given her what she wanted, but had grown to resent it, so it surprised her how strongly she wished she could help Jeanie now.

  She thought of all the extra meals included with her ticket. Would Jeanie accept if I offered those to her? Something told her that she wouldn’t. Jeanie didn’t seem like the type to accept charity. Maybe if I just invite her to join me whenever I can? Eleanor thought that might work, and somehow the thought of spending so much time with the woman didn’t make her feel anxious at all. In fact, she was starting to wonder if she hadn’t been reading too much into Jeanie’s behavior. Could her mental state have led her to perceive a flirtatiousness that wasn’t really there? Because it seemed to be thoroughly absent today. Either Jeanie had changed overnight, or Eleanor had been misled by an overactive imagination when it seemed the woman had anything more than friendship on her mind.

  “So, Jeanie,” she began casually, not quite certain how to guide the conversation around to the subject of dinner in order to invite her, “what are your plans for when we get back to the ship?”

  “I thought I’d go to another dance class.”

  “Oh.” Dance classes. The perfect conversation stopper.

  “Yes, Marylou wasn’t feeling well this morning, so her husband, George, is looking for another partner for this afternoon. I told them I’d be happy to fill in.”

  “Well, you’re making friends, I guess.” Eleanor was surprised by the jealousy brewing in her chest. She hadn’t expected to encounter any rivals for the woman’s time. Suddenly she seemed to be in a competition, and the one thing Eleanor hated was losing.

  “We may have been too quick to judge the old people, you know. When you get to know them, they’re fascinating! George, for example. Did you know he was a pilot in World War II? It’s hard to believe he’s in his nineties. He swing dances like he’s still a teenager. He and Marylou invited me to join them on a bus tour when we get to Bratislava.”

  “That’s…great.” Eleanor wrung her hands together underneath the water. This was not how the conversation was supposed to go. Jeanie was supposed to want her for a traveling companion! I’ll be damned if she’s going to go off with some little old couple without a fight! “So, you’re not planning to visit Club Nova, I take it. I can’t imagine that would be George and Marylou’s cup of tea.”

  Jeanie’s eyes narrowed, intrigued. “Club…?”

  “Nova,” Eleanor supplied, secretly gleeful that Jeanie hadn’t heard of it. This should win me some points. “It’s this really popular underground gay club in Slovakia. They just happen to be hosting their weekly lesbian night. I’m surprised you hadn’t heard of it!”

  “I’m surprised you had,” Jeanie muttered under her breath, seemingly out of sorts over this revelation. Eleanor had gathered from earlier conversations with her that Jeanie liked to stay on top of trends and didn’t like feeling left out of the loop.

  Eleanor fought back an evil chuckle. “Oh, sure! A friend of mine told me about it.” This was true. Her friend Cheryl had visited Bratislava five years before and gave her the brochure as a joke, knowing it was the last place in the world Eleanor was likely to step foot. “It’s this really crazy, sort of secret club. Very eastern European. You know, in an avant-garde sort of way.” The rapt attention on Jeanie’s face told her she was saying all the right words.

  “That sounds…” Jeanie’s forehead was lined with deep furrows. “But I did already tell George and Marylou…”

  Sensing her best play was not to seem too eager, Eleanor shrugged. “Well, if you already promised. What a shame, though. Here you were the one looking forward to meeting single women on this cruise. Ironic.”

  “Yeah…” Conflict was clearly raging inside her head, and Eleanor figured it was just a matter of time before she caved.

  “I wonder what kind of music they’re playing in the European clubs these days.” Eleanor leaned back and floated in the water, as if she’d already forgotten Jeanie was there. “They always seem to be so far ahead of the States.”

  “I mean, maybe I could…”

  “It will certainly provide me with some interesting stories when picking up women back home,” Eleanor added, still talking to herself.

  At that, Jeanie seemed to reach the tipping point. “You know, I don’t know that George and Marylou are counting on me to join them.”

  Eleanor’s body bobbed back upright. “Oh?” Victory!

  “They felt sorry for me being in the class by myself. I think they just asked me out of pity. I’d hate to feel like I was intruding on their time together.”

  Eleanor nodded sympathetically. “There’s nothing worse than feeling like a third wheel.”

  “This Club Nova…I suppose I could wander over there at some point in the evening.”

  “Sure, I could give you the directions. Or, we could meet up for an early dinner and then just wander over together. In case it’s hard to find.” Eleanor gave herself a mental pat on the back for how deftly she’d managed to turn the conversation toward her original objective of giving Jeanie one of her meal tickets. Nicely done!

  Jeanie hesitated. “Well…I suppose underground clubs can be hard to find sometimes.”

  “They’re notorious for it,” Eleanor agreed.

  “And if we meet up for dinner first
, at least you’ll know I’m not running late,” Jeanie added with a laugh. “I suppose your suggestion is the most practical.”

  Eleanor smiled the smile of a woman who was accustomed to that being the case. As she exited the pool and started to towel off, Eleanor was deep in thought, working through the plan. She needed to find that old Club Nova brochure, arrange transportation, and…Oh God! What to wear? She hadn’t packed for going to a club. She felt a nervous hum in her stomach. It wasn’t the troubling kind, but the garden-variety nervousness that went with putting together a plan, the kind that kept her motivated until she got it right down to the last detail.

  Concierge. Of course! Eleanor had almost forgotten that her ticket gave her access to the ship’s concierge services. A concierge would know what people were wearing to clubs these days, and where to buy them. Maybe she could even have something ordered for her and delivered to the ship when they reached Bratislava. Eleanor had an easy enough body to dress that a standard size would do, and she’d rather not have to shop if she could avoid it. As she slipped on her shoes, she was too wrapped up in her planning to give the slightest notice to which shoe she’d put on first.

  How lucky that I have the concierge to help! Even with all the business travel she’d done, Eleanor wasn’t used to traveling in quite such a luxurious way as this. Sylvia would have eaten it up, which struck her as funny. When she’d booked the cruise for the two of them, she’d reserved a nice room, but not like she had now. The dollar had strengthened so much in the past year that her credit had been worth considerably more than before, and Miriam had thrown in every conceivable amenity when booking Eleanor’s passage, just to use it up.

  As she waited in the lobby of the spa for Jeanie to finish dressing, it occurred to her that it could be a lot of fun to use as many of those amenities as she could to show her new friend a good time. Eleanor was certain Jeanie had never traveled first class before, so it would be a new experience for her. And on her own, Eleanor would just let most of it go to waste—like today’s spa trip, which had done miracles to ease Eleanor’s anxiety. In retrospect, it would’ve been a shame to miss it, and she would have if it hadn’t been for Jeanie.

  Eleanor’s mind raced to remember what other envelopes she had tucked away in her folder back in her room. Bicycle rentals, museum tours, so many things to see! As she thought about the possibilities for the weeks ahead, the only thing she didn’t give even a passing thought to was the fact that, just a few days before, she’d been equally determined to stay as far away from Jeanie Brooks as she could.

  Chapter 13

  Jeanie paced back and forth on the sidewalk, fretting for the thousandth time over the black dress she’d chosen for the club. When she’d seen it in a boutique in Poughkeepsie that promised European fashion for a discount price, the asymmetrical shoulder and daring metal trim had seemed like something straight from a Paris runway. But when she’d put it on in her cabin before dinner, she’d started to have doubts. Was it too short? Too low cut? Would Eleanor take it the wrong way and have another panic attack? And what was the right way for her to take it? Jeanie wasn’t sure she knew.

  This is why you decided not to see her anymore, remember? Jeanie balled her fists, tugging her hem closer to her knees. You like her too much to spend time with her! She was fully aware that none of her thoughts made any sense at all. It hardly mattered. It's not like she ever listened to herself anyway.

  Her resolve to not spend time with Eleanor had lasted all of, what, a few hours? One relaxing soak in a pool and the chance to go to a swanky European nightclub and her backbone had dissolved like a jar of bath salts. Either that, or Eleanor had played some sort of Jedi mind trick on her. After all, Eleanor was a woman who was used to getting her way, and thinking back on it, Jeanie had a strong sense that having her go with her to this club was something she really wanted. The thought of that made Jeanie feel warm and tingly inside in all sorts of nice places, even though she knew she shouldn't let it. She grasped her head between the palms of her hands and screamed silently, frustrated with her own wishy-washy confusion.

  Tonight’s dinner together is what had kicked off this latest round of insecurity. Eleanor had arrived after Jeanie, which was unusual in its self, but she was wearing just another version of her ubiquitous travel wardrobe. That’s when it crossed Jeanie’s mind that she’d gotten something wrong and was way overdressed. But then a message had been delivered to their table during dinner, after which Eleanor muttered something about going back to her room to change, leaving Jeanie to wait by herself for the car that Eleanor had arranged and second guess herself into an early grave.

  Enough! Eleanor would be back any minute and it was time for Jeanie to start acting like a grown up. An interesting, exciting woman wanted to be her friend, so what was the big deal? This shouldn't even be a debate. They'd enjoy the night out as friends, and why not? Just because she'd dated almost all of her friends didn't mean she had to do so this time. I can do 'friends only', no problem! Her pinched face relaxed into a smile at her renewed resolve. Piece of cake!

  Jeanie heard the tapping of heels on the gangway and turned to see Eleanor about half the distance between the ship and shore. Jeanie instantly felt an affinity for cartoon characters whose jaws dropped to the floor and tongues rolled out of their heads like a red carpet, while something literally heart-shaped protruded from their chests. She was almost certain she looked like that now, right down to the steam whistling from her ears. Damn. An evening clubbing with Eleanor in this get-up was going to deal a major blow to her goal of keeping her motivations strictly platonic.

  This woman sauntering toward her—could it really be the same Eleanor she’d seen at dinner?—would have looked just as at home on a catwalk during fashion week as she did on the ramp leading up from the ship. A black halter top, sheer to the point of being see-through across her midriff, skimmed her waistline. A pair of skin-tight claret-colored pants in—Heaven help me, is that leather?—rode low on her hip bones. Her shoes were strappy silver confections with heels so high Jeanie wasn’t certain how Eleanor was managing to stay upright on the uneven walkway.

  “Mercy!” she whispered. Louder, she added, “You look—”

  “Foolish, I know,” Eleanor said with a groan. “Maybe I shouldn’t go.”

  “What? No!” Jeanie stared at Eleanor’s outfit, then at her own dress. Her earlier fears forgotten, Jeanie’s primary concern now was that, next to her companion, her own dress looked exactly like what it was: a discount dress from a shop in Poughkeepsie. “That is definitely not part of the easy-care travel collection.”

  “No. It’s new.” Disappointment permeated her words. “I didn’t pack for going to a club. This only just arrived during dinner. I asked the concierge to order me something appropriate, but obviously he was completely off the mark. There’s nothing appropriate about it.”

  On the contrary, Jeanie was certain no one had hit the mark so flawlessly since William Tell’s arrow sliced through the center of the apple on his son’s head. Eleanor looked born for a night on the town. “Seriously, you look—oh my God, is that our car?” A white stretch-Hummer pulled up alongside the curb as both women gaped. “Eleanor, you really didn’t need to go to so much trouble!”

  “I didn’t!” she protested, walking briskly toward the driver, who had walked around to open the passenger door. “Yet another misunderstanding. Excuse me, sir,” this she addressed to the driver, “I only ordered a town car, not…this! Are you sure this is the reservation for Fielding?” She waved her arms to encompass the full monstrosity. Jeanie watched, feeling ridiculously turned on by the way she took command of the situation.

  “Fielding? Yes,” the driver confirmed, and Eleanor nodded. “I’m picking up another party there when I drop you off. They ordered this car, so it was easier just to upgrade you for the trip.”

  Satisfied with the explanation, Jeanie climbed into the cavernous interior, then popped her head out the door. “Eleanor? You coming?”


  Eleanor blinked twice, then shook her head and climbed in beside Jeanie. “This evening is not going at all the way I planned.”

  “Oh, well,” Jeanie said with a shrug, “Do they ever?” She was impressed that Eleanor had even tried to sort the issue out, but when the only response was stony silence, Jeanie bit her lower lip and reflected that maybe for Eleanor, things usually did go according to plan. “Bratislava’s got some fancy lesbians, ordering giant cars like this just to go to and from a club,” she joked, but got only a partial smile in response. She took to nudging Eleanor's knee with her own until she coaxed a smile. Their eyes met and Jeanie felt it like a shot to the gut.

  The car pulled up in front of the nightclub where a bouncer, who was twice the size of a normal human and looked like he might have competed on a Cold War-era wrestling team, stood at the door. Eleanor strode up confidently to speak with him while Jeanie lingered several steps behind. Soon, she could hear Eleanor’s voice begin to rise.

  “A reservation? For a club? No, I don’t have a reservation.”

  “Sorry, miss. Reservations only. Plus an eight person minimum.”

  Jeanie’s muscles tightened and twitched nervously as Eleanor continued her heated debate with the bouncer. There was a fine line between finding it arousing and being concerned that it could trigger a panic attack. The door to the club opened and a group of very drunk, very male individuals stumbled along the sidewalk toward the waiting car. Jeanie stared in confusion as, one by one, they piled into the vehicle that had brought her and Eleanor from the boat.

  “Um, excuse me,” Jeanie said to one of the stragglers, smiling as a single bloodshot eye struggled to focus enough to sustain contact with hers. “Were you coming out of the lesbian club just now?”

  “Yeah. Bloody brilliant!” His slurred speech sounded vaguely British. With a niggling worry building inside, Jeanie asked a few more questions. The answers increased her concern exponentially.