Comfortable Distance

by Kenna White

“This will be the most expensive shrimp cocktail in history,” Jamie whispered.

  “One more thing,” Janice said, stepping back and looking at them. “Your glasses. Could you possibly dance without them, Jamie?”

  “She has to see, doesn’t she?” Dana said, as if rushing to Jamie’s defense.

  “What the heck,” Jamie said, removing them and setting them on the table. “I’m practically undressed as it is.”

  “Will you be able to see where you’re going?” Dana asked.

  “Maybe.” Jamie squinted, forcing her eyes to focus.

  “That’s encouraging,” Dana teased.

  “Let’s see what we have here,” Janice said, turning them to face each other. “Jamie you’re taller but that’s okay.” She placed Dana’s hands on Jamie as if Dana was leading. Dana seemed to know what to do and for that, Jamie was glad. “Good, Dana.” Janice stepped back and nodded as if that was the cue to begin. Dana instinctively took a step then another, forcing Jamie to follow.

  “Closer,” Janice said, waving her hands together. “Move closer together.”

  Their moves were awkward at best. Jamie struggled to keep from stepping on Dana’s feet. Dana moved stiffly, her strides unequal. Finally, she stopped.

  “I need to start again,” Dana said, with an embarrassed frown.

  “Wait a minute,” Jamie said, switching hands. “Let’s try this.”

  “Okay,” Dana said, slipping her hand in Jamie’s. She seemed relieved to surrender the lead. Jamie took a step. Dana followed.

  “A little closer,” Janice said, standing next to Danny as he focused. “Don’t look at the camera. Look at each other. Closer. Hold her closer, Jamie,” she said over the jukebox.

  Dana stepped closer, leaving only a few inches between them.

  “Bossy little cuss, isn’t she?” Jamie chuckled, finally matching her stride to the music. She pulled Dana into her arms, their bodies pressed together as they moved around the floor. Jamie hadn’t danced with a woman in her arms in six years. It felt strange but her fears and clumsiness were fading. It was coming back to her in a rush of emotions. She pulled Dana closer, close enough to feel her heart beat and the breaths rise in her chest. She didn’t hesitate as the song changed but kept them floating around the floor as if on a graceful carousel.

  “Good. Great!” Janice said as Danny snapped shot after shot, moving with them as if trying to capture their magic.

  Dana rested her head on Jamie’s shoulder as they moved in time with the music.

  “Did you get that?” Janice demanded, shuffling around the floor, pointing out shots.

  Jamie closed her eyes and tilted her chin against Dana’s forehead. The music swelled dramatically, pulling her deeper and deeper into the fantasy. It was no longer her and Dana dancing. It was someone else. Someone whose face was obscured by the music and by time. Jamie continued to dance, guiding them through billowing clouds of memory.

  “That’s wonderful, Jamie. Thank you.” Janice said, stepping onto the dance floor. “Danny got some great shots. I’m sure of it. Thank you both so much.”

  But Jamie didn’t stop. She moved Dana around the floor, still holding her locked in her arms. Dana followed obediently, matching Jamie step for step. The feel of Dana’s body in her arms, the sweet smell of her, was something Jamie couldn’t bring herself to give up. Not until the song ended and Janice turned off the jukebox did Jamie realize how totally she had allowed herself to revisit that old memory. She finally stopped dancing but held Dana in her arms for a long last moment before releasing her. Dana didn’t say a word. As if she understood where Jamie’s thoughts had been, she squeezed her hand then walked off the floor.

  Chapter 14

  Dinner with Shannon was at seven, but Dana’s nerves were frazzled by three. She didn’t care about what to wear or how she would look, just what they would talk about. Like other times when she needed an outlet for her anxiety, Dana sat down on the deck with a sketch pad. Ringlet would calm the jitters that had tied her stomach in knots. It only took a few strokes of her pen to have the pup’s impish face smiling up at her. She had drawn the black Scottie hundreds of times, and amazingly, each time it brought a smile to her face as Ringlet’s personality took shape. She thumbed through the notepad she carried in her purse for ideas she had jotted down. Nothing caught her interest.

  She looked out toward West Bay Marina where Jamie kept her research boat and wondered what she was doing. Scuba diving? Collecting samples? She smiled and sketched two fish on the pad. She sketched Ringlet’s human, a slender, working class, attractive lesbian with big round eyes and short hair. She ate healthy, lived clean and didn’t smoke. Dana hadn’t given her a name since the cartoon was drawn from Ringlet’s point of view. For the first two years Ringlet’s sex was ambiguous, but Dana’s publisher suggested she make a commitment one way or the other. Ringlet was a girl with just enough tendencies to suggest she too was gay. But it was Ringlet’s independence and feisty curiosity that sold the cartoon.

  Suddenly, she had an idea. Flipping to a clean page, she began to sketch.

  Ringlet stood at a window, her front paws on the sill. Her human stood behind her,also looking out the window,both of them watching the moving van backed into the next-door neighbor’s driveway. A dream bubble over the human’s head showed her imagining a voluptuous woman moving into the house. A dream bubble over Ringlet’s head showed her imagining a sexy poodle moving into the house. Both Ringlet and her human looked love starved and interested in whoever was moving in next door.

  She finished the details and reviewed it. Curious. They’re both curious, she thought. She looked out over the marina, in the direction of Jamie’s ship. Her cell phone rang just as she signed Robinette to the corner.

  “Hello, Shannon,” she said, reading the caller ID.

  “Hi, babe.” Shannon sounded happy. “What are you doing?”

  “Working,” Dana had another idea but it was slowly dissipating. She began an absentminded sketch of Ringlet, hoping the idea would return.

  “I thought I’d see if you want to meet me a little earlier. How about six thirty? I called and changed the reservation. They’re booked up but said they could work us in. I asked for that table in the front window. The one we always get.”

  The one that makes me feel like a fish in fishbowl, Dana thought. She closed her pad. She knew she wasn’t going to get anything else done today. Shannon never seemed to care when she interrupted Dana’s work. But it was her own fault. She’s the one who answered the call.

  “Six thirty at Trinacera,” Dana said, wondering why Shannon bothered to change it for just thirty minutes.

  “I’ll pick you up around six.”

  “Shannon, I don’t need a ride. It’s four blocks. I’ll walk over.”

  “I don’t mind. It’s practically on the way,” she insisted.

  “It’s not on the way and I want to walk. I’ll meet you at Trinacera at six thirty,” Dana said emphatically. She could think of several reasons to stick to her guns on this one. First of all, it didn’t take thirty minutes to go four blocks. Second, she wanted to be on her own to come and go as she saw fit. And mostly it was just because she said so. Shannon grumbled something under her breath then agreed and hung up.

  Dana rounded the corner onto State Street at precisely six thirty on the dot.Trinacera was a small restaurant run by a Sicilian gentleman, Eugenio, who did all the cooking from recipes he kept in his head. The best meals were the ones customers allowed him to create rather than ordering off the menu. It was a secret only a few locals knew but for them he created more than simple dinners.

  Shannon was already waiting inside when Dana opened the door and stepped in.Shannon was dressed in what Dana suspected were her work clothes. Brown slacks set stylishly low on her hips and a yellow sweater with the sleeves pushed back, a color that accented her rich brown hair. Dana had always thought Shannon was an attractive woman. Even in jeans, she turned heads. She carried herself with confi
dence and professionalism. In her line of work, that perception was important.

  “I knew I should have picked you up,” Shannon said, checking her watch.

  “I’m not late. Six thirty-two is not late.”

  Shannon kissed Dana’s cheek then turned to the hostess.

  “Reservation for two. The name is Verick. The window table for six thirty,” she said.

  The window table was the only vacant table in the restaurant. Shannon held the chair for Dana then took her seat across the table.

  “We’ll have a bottle of Tivoli Chianti,” she said, turning up their glasses.

  Dana had begun reading the menu. She had eaten at Trinacera many times but always labored over what to chose. Everything sounded delicious.

  “I don’t know if I want a calzone or something with pasta,” she said, reading everything. “What did we have the last time? Something marinara?”

  “You didn’t like it, remember? You said it was too spicy.”

  “I thought that was you.”

  “Why don’t you let me order for you like I always do? It takes you forever to decide.”

  Dana paused and looked up at her.

  “I like to read the menu,” she said.

  “It hasn’t changed in five years, babe.” Shannon set her menu on the edge of the table. She reached across and adjusted Dana’s collar then let her eyes scan down over her. “Where did you get those earrings? Are they new?”

  Dana felt her ears. She couldn’t remember which earrings she was wearing.

  “They aren’t new. These are the ones Steve gave me a few Christmases ago.”

  “You look nice. I like that outfit on you. Baby blue is definitely your color.” Shannon leaned forward. “And I like that bra,” she whispered.

  Dana looked down to see if her bra was noticeable.

  “You can’t see my bra,” she said.

  “I can’t see it but I like what it does for you.” She grinned. “Are you chilly, baby cakes?” She winked.

  “Actually, yes, I am.” Dana crossed her arms over the table as much to warm herself as to discourage Shannon from staring at her nipples.

  The waitress brought a bottle of wine to the table. Shannon tasted it, giving her blessing for Dana to try it.

  “That’s good,”Dana said,enjoying a sip.“Very smooth.Good choice, Shannon.”

  “Have I ever missed when it came to wine?” She took a drink then refilled their glasses. “Remember that time we went to Portland and ate at Sarge’s Steakhouse? We had that terrible California wine.” She laughed loudly.

  “The one that had a head on it in the glass?” Dana said with a snicker.

  “Yes. That crap tasted like cat piss.”

  Every time Shannon used that expression, Dana wanted to ask how she knew what cat piss tasted like. Shannon had become quite a culinary expert—to a limited degree. She knew what the specialty was at many of Olympia’s restaurants. She could choose an appropriate wine for any meal. And Shannon knew what Dana liked and didn’t like, even when she wasn’t sure herself.

  “I remember the manager blamed it on the glasses. He said they had beer residue in them.” Dana wrinkled her nose. “Either way, it was nasty.”

  “Like they’d use wineglasses to serve beer. Anyway, I got our dinner free. Remember?”

  “Yes, but I hated to do that. I would have settled for a different wine.”

  “It was a drop in the bucket. He’ll never miss it. I heard him tell someone to pull all that wine off the shelf. He knew it was bad.”

  “What can I get you ladies this evening?” the waitress asked, setting a basket of bread bowties on the table.

  “She’ll have Tagliatelle with prosciutto and mushrooms. I’ll have Rigatoni Pomodoro with Italian sausage,” Shannon said. “Salad. Right, babe?”

  “Yes, please.” Dana closed her menu. That sounded good. Not something she considered but good.

  “Would you like an appetizer?” the waitress said, claiming the menus.

  Dana wondered if they had oysters on the half shell. She didn’t like them but Jamie did. Curious little food, she thought.

  “No. That’s all. Just the two salads.” Shannon turned her attention back to Dana. “You’ll love the Tagliatelle.”

  “Is it penne pasta or spaghetti?” Dana sipped her wine, wishing she had read what that was.

  “Fettuccine.” Shannon waited for Dana to take another sip of wine then filled her glass.

  “I don’t need anymore,” she said, moving her glass out of Shannon’s reach.

  “Smooth, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, very.” Dana repositioned her napkin over her lap and straightened her silverware. She was waiting for Shannon to start the conversation in a new direction. She would be just as happy to continue with small talk but knew Shannon had something else in mind.

  “How do you like the houseboat?”

  “I like it. It’s very restful. It’s sort of like a floating cabin.”

  “I’ve been giving some thought to looking for a cabin somewhere in the mountains. Maybe up on the peninsula. Nothing fancy. Kind of a getaway cabin. It would be a great place for you to work. Away from the noise and crowds. Something by a stream with a dynamite view. Dorothy and Lynette have one over by Quinault. They’ve got hiking trails all over the place.”

  “Sounds lovely.”

  “They’ve invited us to go up there with them. I told them I’d talk with you about it. Maybe in the fall.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “The first weekend in October might be nice. What do you say?” Shannon said it as if the plans were already in the works.

  “We’ll see, Shannon.”

  “I thought you liked cabins.”

  “I do. I’m just not ready to commit to it. I’ll need some time to think it over and see where I am with my work.”

  “Like you needed some time to think about us?” Shannon said, looking straight into Dana’s eyes. “Babe, this is crazy.” She reached over and took Dana’s hand,squeezing it softly.“You don’t need time to think about us. You just need to come home to me. I love you. With all my heart, I love you. You know that. I don’t know how else to show you. What haven’t I provided?”

  “That has nothing to do with it. It isn’t about things.”

  “Then what? What can I do to get you back home where you belong?”

  “Shannon, it isn’t about you.”

  “What is it then?” she demanded.

  “It’s about me.”

  That didn’t salve Shannon’s curiosity. There were no gray areas to her reasoning.If Dana had an issue with their relationship, she wanted to know the exact day and date of the problem. She would explain it and resolve it. Cut and dry. But Dana didn’t know what was wrong. At least not so she could put her finger on it. That was what the time on the houseboat was supposed to help her figure out. Time alone without Shannon’s smile and touch to cloud her feelings. That’s what she told herself. That’s what she had told Morgan and Jamie. Even Steve and Juliana understood she needed a change. The precious time she needed to put things into perspective had somehow disappeared in the reality of her life. Shannon had called, asked her to dinner, and she agreed. How had she ended up across the table from Shannon, when she had been firmly committed not to? Dana had no idea. It seemed so easy when Jamie explained it. Why hadn’t she listened more closely to her analytical reasoning?

  “Dana?” Shannon snapped her fingers in front of Dana’s face. “Earth to Dana. Dinner is here.”

  “Sorry. You know me when I get an idea for Ringlet.” Dana fibbed, looking down at her plate, trying to focus.

  “Oh yeah, that reminds me.” Shannon stabbed one of Dana’s mushrooms with her fork and took a bite. “This is great.” She took another. “I have an idea for you. It’s really funny. Have you got a notepad?”

  “I’ll remember. Tell me,” Dana encouraged cheerfully, twirling a bite onto her spoon. Shannon had offered several ideas for cartoons and Dana apprecia
ted her efforts but so far nothing sounded useful. Dana didn’t tell her that. As far as Shannon knew, each and every one of her ideas had been added to Dana’s in process file, awaiting development.

  “You’ve got to write this down so you get all the nuances.”

  “Okay. One second.” Dana took a bite then opened her purse and pulled out her pad and pen. “Shoot.”

  Shannon took a bite and a sip of wine while Dana sat holding the paper.

  “Now, Ringlet and her owner are standing on the dock waiting to board the huge cruise ship. Those string streamers are flying everywhere. People are waving and cheering. The ship’s horn is blasting. The whole departure scene. Ringlet has this really disgusted, pissed off look on her face.”

  Shannon looked over to see if Dana was taking notes. Dana jotted down a few things.

  “Good. I got it,” Dana said.

  “And here’s the kicker. Ready?”

  “I’m ready.”

  “Ringlet has one of those steamer trunk stickers stuck right on her ass. You know the ones they used to put all over luggage fifty years ago. It’s right there on her ass, big as day.” Shannon laughed. “Can you believe it? A luggage sticker on the damn dog.”

  “That’s good, Shannon.” Dana gave a supportive chuckle. “Very funny.”

  “Did you get the description I gave you?”

  “Yes. Cruise ship.”

  “Departing cruise ship.”

  “That’s cute.” Wouldn’t Ringlet and her human already be onboard if the streamers were flying, Dana thought. And why would the sticker, something that isn’t used anymore and her readers probably wouldn’t understand, be on her ass? But Dana appreciated her effort.

  “What have you got Ringlet doing this week?”

  “She just finished obedience school. It was a four-part series.”

  “Did she graduate?”

  “Sure,” Dana giggled. “Not happily but she passed. She graduated in a dunce cap with a tassel on the front. How’s your work going? Did you get your quota for the Alaskan cruise?”

  “Not yet, but I will. There’s always a few who wait until the last minute, hoping for a discount. But I’ve never missed a quota.”