Ask a Shadow to Dance (19 page)

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Authors: Linda George

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David bristled at the implication he was hallucinating. “I know the difference between real and imaginary. I don’t buy it.”

Bob removed his glasses, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and cleaned the lenses. “Frankly, neither do
I. You aren’t the hallucinatory type. Everything you’ve told me goes beyond anything I’ve ever dealt with. I don’t know what to say.”

“If you could see her—in the flesh—would you believe it then?”

“Of course. We can’t all hallucinate the same thing. At least I don’t think we can. Not without some outside stimulus to prompt a simultaneous illusion.”

“Mass hypnosis.”

“An interesting theory, but not very workable. Especially among doctors, who are typically more skeptical than the average citizen.”

“We have to have proof.”

“Exactly.”

Joe hadn’t said much. He stood up, his face oddly blank.

“What is it, Joe?”

“Look over there and tell me what you see.” He raised one arm slowly, indicating.

“Lisette.” David hurried to where she stood.

Bob put his glasses back on.
“My God.”

“David?” Lisette took one tentative step forward, slumped into his arms,
then disappeared.

“Damn!” Joe slammed his fist onto Bob’s desk. “Did you see that? It was her! It was really her!”

Bob sat down, pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk and lifted out a tape recorder that was still running. “We’ll see.”

David stared at the second machine; surprised Bob would tape them without disclosing the fact. “You were using two recorders?”

“I usually do. When a patient gets nervous about being recorded, I just turn that one off. This one runs all the time. Doctors don’t have perfect memories, after all.” He ran the tape back. They all listened. And stared at each other when a fourth voice came from the tape. One word. “David.” Clearly a woman’s voice.

“She was here.” David felt strangely calm. Now that they had confirmation, everything became clear.

Bob nodded. “She must have fallen asleep and followed you back to this office. Seeing you, David—”

“—was enough to wake her up. She really was in my arms, Bob, for just an instant.”

“All right, gentlemen. We have a whole new ball game.” Bob advanced the tape to the point where he’d stopped it before, punched the record button and replaced it in his desk. “Where do we go from here, David?”

“To the Peabody.”

* * * * *

By the time David got to bed that night, he was exhausted. He tried to settle down, to visualize everything going well tomorrow, yet a thousand questions continued to plague him. What would happen to Lisette if he couldn’t contact her again? Would his name disappear from the passenger list of the missing
Cajun Star
? What if David had never seen that article?

As his mind weaned itself from the third degree, Bob’s voice echoed, “You will dream about Lisette.”

David closed his eyes, relaxed, and let the dream come.

A moment later, he opened his eyes and recognized the velvet quilt he’d seen on Lisette’s bed when he’d been there earlier. She lay there asleep. He could see only what the moonlight illuminated, streaming through the window onto the bed.
A glimpse of red-gold hair and lace about her neck.

David sat on the edge of the bed, content for the moment to watch her sleep,
then touched her cheek with one finger, moved a strand of hair back from her face. She stirred, but did not wake up. He touched his lips to hers.

When her eyes fluttered open, she wasn’t startled or afraid. Instead, she surprised him. She lifted the covers and shifted over in the bed, making room.

David unbuttoned the shirt of his pajamas, took it off and draped it across the end of the bed. The pants followed. He eased in beside her.

“David, are you real?”

“I don’t know. Are you?”

She smiled and pulled the gown over her head. It floated to the floor. He
reached to touch her, caress her, and she came willingly into his arms, kissing with enthusiasm and passion, moaning softly when he bent to kiss her breasts. She seemed to be starved for affection and tenderness and he did everything he could to prolong and enhance, stimulate and elicit from her the exquisite and magical sensations of making love. His only wish was to bring her pleasure. And she brought him pleasure in return.

He could tell she wasn’t used to experimentation, yet she warmed to the idea and explored his body with her fingers, making the most delightful noises when her touch brought a sigh or a moan from him.

David suspected she’d never been touched lovingly before, so he took his time, letting her get her used to the idea of hands exploring her silky body. By the time he probed and caressed that most intimate place, her breathing had deepened and the noises from her throat told everything about what she was feeling. She pressed against his hand, laced her fingers through his hair and pulled his mouth to hers. He accelerated the pace and felt her stiffen. Her back arched, her lips grew slack. When she relaxed, he slipped inside her. She matched the rhythm, her legs around him, her mouth on his neck, his chest, his mouth. He couldn’t wait any longer.

Afterward, they lay in each other’s arms, her lips full from their kissing, her body warm and fragrant with love. They drifted into sleep, her head on his shoulder, his arms holding her close.

When the first rays of dawn woke him, David reached for Lisette, but she wasn’t there. The movement of his waterbed told him he was home again. He didn’t want to disturb the remnants of the dream, but he had to get ready to meet her at the Peabody.

When he got out of bed, he realized he was naked. His pajamas were lying on the foot of her bed! It wasn’t a dream! David laughed aloud and headed for the shower.

By the time he left the house, he was ready for anything. He wanted to get Lisette out of the hotel lobby immediately to avoid anyone who might interfere. He knew they had to stay together. Somehow, the link between the centuries depended on their proximity to each other. That thought brought a smile. Staying as close to Lisette as he had last night would be a pleasure.

Even if he could get her into this time, he knew she wouldn’t abandon her home and family so quickly—and neither would he. The conflicting possibilities whirling in his brain overlapped and struggled until he was almost crazy.

At the Peabody, Joe and Bob arrived at 9:30. Joe had brought a digital camera.

“Sight seeing?” David asked with a smile.

“Hey, Bro, I intend to photograph anything that happens.”

“And if I disappear?”

“I’ll take pictures of the ducks.”

David wished, in a way, that Joe and Bob hadn’t come, but there was no diplomatic way to tell them to stay away. Depending on what happened, they might prove indispensable if Westmoreland showed up. Could he cross into 2009 with Lisette if Andrew happened to be standing close enough to her,
David wondered? Joe hadn’t crossed over, that first time at the fountain, so David doubted it.

Nine forty-five. There was no sign of her. Then, at 9:50, the lights blinked out,
then back on. He glanced quickly at the fountain. The ducks hadn’t arrived yet. The elevators were still there, the gift shops. No changes. Except for a woman standing at the gift shop window, peering at a Mallard decoy in a display.

Bob saw her just after David did and alerted Joe. David approached her carefully. He would have known this woman even if she hadn’t been wearing a maroon and gray striped polonaise dress brushing the floor around her feet.

“Lisette?”

She whirled around. Her eyes brightened as she smiled. Then she blushed to match her dress. “Doctor Stewart.”

“David, remember?”

She extended her right hand, holding a piece of paper he recognized as the note he’d left in her room. Her cheeks blazed. “Could you possibly know what is written on this paper?”

“On one side, it has my name and address printed on a bank deposit slip. On the other side, it says, ‘Peabody Hotel. Ten o’clock. David.’ I left it on the table beside your bed last night.”

“The first time you came to my room.”

“Yes. The first time.”

“The second time, you left
your . . .” She blushed.

“Pajamas.”

“Yes.” Her eyes glistened with the same passion he’d seen in them the night before.

She took several steps closer,
then saw Bob and Joe. “Oh! You’re the gentlemen I dreamed about.” She appeared confused and troubled to be seeing dream people in the flesh.

David took her gloved hand and squeezed it. He had to touch her. “You must have followed me home.”

“Excuse me?”

How could he put it? “It doesn’t really matter. Lisette, this is my brother, Joe Stewart.”

Lisette offered her hand to Joe. “I’m delighted to meet you, Sir.”

Joe took her hand lightly. “You have no idea how glad I am to meet you, Miss Morgan.” The grin on his face widened as he gawked at her.

“And this is Doctor Townsend.”

Bob nodded, touching Lisette’s fingers for a moment, obviously fascinated. “Miss Morgan. Welcome to Memphis.”

She gave a nervous laugh. “Considering I have lived in Memphis all but eight years of my life, I nonetheless appreciate your greeting, Dr. Townsend.” She looked at David, her expression soft, her skin flushed and rosy.

David wanted to take her in his arms, kiss her until she was breathless, but there was much to tell her, and they were far from alone. “Lisette, we must go somewhere we can talk and not be interrupted.”

“You were going to show me something. A newspaper article?”

“Soon.”

“David, maybe we ought to—” Joe began.

David silenced him with one look. “Nothing will happen as long as Lisette and I are together. Please, Joe.”

He nodded. “If you need us, we’ll be right here.”

“Thanks.” David took Lisette’s arm and headed toward the staircase. There was a room on the second floor displaying memorabilia depicting the history of the Peabody. If there was no one else there, it would be a perfect place for them to talk.

A group of teenage girls came downstairs just as they started up. They were wearing jeans, turtlenecks, shirts, and sweaters. Lisette stared at them with amazement. “David, those women are wearing men’s trousers!” she whispered.

David hurried her upstairs and to the Memorabilia Room. It was empty. “Lisette, I know this is going to be a shock for you, but bear with me. I’ll explain everything.”

“What’s going to be a shock? You mean women who dress like men? It’s scandalous, to be sure, but I promise you I am an educated person, thanks to Aunt Portia. I’m not as naive as you obviously think I am.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that you were naive. Just don’t be surprised if you see some strange things. After all, this isn’t 1885, you know.”

She stopped stock-still. “What are you talking about—not 1885?”

“Come inside. I think you’ll find this room interesting.” He closed the door, hoping no one else would come in.

She went all the way around the perimeter of the small room, studying the displays. The oldest was dated in the twenties, as far as David could tell from a quick sweep.

“David, all these things are from the future.”

“Your future. My past.”

He halfway expected her to be frightened, but her reaction was closer to amazement and curiosity instead. They sat at the end of the conference table that took up the center of the room.

“All right, tell me what you’re feeling.”

She stared for a moment, glassy-eyed,
then her expression brightened. “This has to be another dream. I can’t find any other explanation for it. I’m imagining all of this—and you. Is that it, David? Are you nothing more than a figment of my imagination?” She touched his face with her hand. “Was last night only a wonderful dream?”

He kissed the palm of her hand, using his tongue, just as he had in her bedroom when their bodies had been more like one than two. Her eyes widened,
then narrowed. Her lips parted just a fraction.

“I promise you I’m real, and this is no dream. I’m going to tell you something hard for you to believe, but it’s vital that you do.”

She nodded, waiting.

David marveled and thrilled at her ability to cope with what had to be an
unbelievably jolting experience.

“When I first met you, on the riverboat—”

She nodded.

“You came into the ballroom and didn’t recognize anyone, isn’t that right?”

“How did you know?”

“I guessed. You stepped from your time;” He paused, hoping she would understand.
“ into my time.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, your time?”

“Lisette, do you remember, in your room last night—” The blush was back.“—the first time—when I asked you to tell me the year?”

“It was a silly question.” She paused. “At least it seemed silly then. Should I be asking you the same question now?”

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