Between the Lines (16 page)

 “No
deal. I don’t have anything to say about Baxter, other than what I’ve already
told you.”  He shakes his head.

I look
him dead in the eye, but he doesn’t shift his gaze. Either he’s very good at
lying or Gabe believes the bullshit he’s telling me. “I don’t believe you.”

We sit
there staring at the other, neither willing to break or say anything further. 
Gabe picks up his coffee and sips, never breaking eye contact. I’m not about to
either. I’ll learn what I need to know and he needs to understand that.

He
swallows and puts the cup back on the counter. “It appears we are at an
impasse.”

“It
appears so.”

A smile
tugs at the corner of his mouth. “So, what are your plans today?”

I blink at
him in surprise. He’s giving up? Or, is this a trick? “Beyond a shower, I’m not
sure.”

He takes
another drink of his coffee and stands. “Good. I’ll be back at one. Be ready
for an outing.” Then starts limping toward the door.

“What?” I
come to my feet. “Where are we going? Why?”

He turns
to face me, grinning. “I haven’t figure that out yet, but it is too fine of a
day to be stuck indoors glaring at each other.”

“We don’t
have to be in the same place. You can go back to your apartment and I’ll stay
here.” Though the idea of going somewhere, anywhere, with Gabe, sends a little
thrill down my spine. Maybe it isn’t all over? Even if it’s just friendship,
it’s a hell of a lot more than I thought I had a short time ago.

“Have you
looked outside? The sun is shining and it’s in the seventies. We need to take
advantage of that.”

Would it
be possible to have conversation that didn’t involve my family or Baxter? As
much as I want to know the truth, maybe I should give it a rest, for today.
Maybe being out somewhere with Gabe would help me forget, even for a short
while. It’d almost be like I was a normal person. Just like I felt those few
days in New York.

Before Scott
called.

The door
clicks before I answer. He’ll be back in about two hours and a thrill runs
through me before I down my lukewarm coffee and head to the bathroom to shower
and get ready.

Gabe – 26

The brace
feels secure and I test the weight on my leg. I don’t use it often, except when
I know I might be doing a lot of walking. I wish I would have had it with me in
New York, but I wasn’t thinking straight when Ellen suggested we go. But,
walking in the park, on a warm day, shouldn’t be a challenge. I could use some
of those endorphins that Ethan was talking about in class. So could Ellen.

I don’t know
if she’s just tired or upset. She was certainly shaken after I confronted her
about her father. For a minute, I thought she was headed into a panic attack
while we were having coffee. I’ve seen that look on my students often enough,
and they’ve pulled themselves back, sometimes, like I watched Ellen do. Does
she regularly suffer from them? Does she take anything?

I’ve
never had one, but I’ve witnessed them, and they suck. A few kids had to be
heavily medicated and sometimes gone from the classroom for a few days until
they recovered. It must be hell having to live with something like that.

Maybe
sunshine and fresh air will help. I grab a couple of Frisbees and toss them
into my backpack with some bottles of chilled water. The park I have in mind
has a disc golf course, which could be fun. Hopefully she plays. If not, we can
toss the Frisbee around, unless Ellen wants to do something else. I know what
I’d rather do, but sex is currently off the table given the state of our
relationship.

Relationship!
Do we even have one? This is probably the screwiest relationship I’ve ever been
in, but despite the lies and half-truths, I still want her. I’m far from
finished getting to know Ellen and I hope to hell she isn’t done with me
either.

My
stomach grumbles and I glance at the clock. It’s nearly one and I haven’t eaten
today. Half a pot of coffee isn’t going to get me far. Hopefully, Ellen is up
for a bite. Maybe a picnic in the park.

I shake
my head and laugh as I head out the door. Picnic in the park with a beautiful
girl. It’s something I’ve never done before, but seems like a good plan.
Especially when that girl is Ellen. And, it should turn out to be a pleasant
day if we avoid two specific topics: Baxter and her father.

They had
wanted to put her into witness protection?

Ellen
admitted as much, but she didn’t go. Why the hell not? Simply changing her name
and moving to the other side of the country isn’t going to cut it. Maybe it
would have worked, if she would have disappeared into oblivion and not
published her blog. I can’t believe that hasn’t grabbed somebody’s attention by
now. Dangerous somebodies. 

Then
again, maybe they’re all already convicted and in jail. If so, there wouldn’t
be a threat, would there?

I don’t
know much about the criminal element, cartels, mafia or organized crime, but
the movies make them out to be scary enough. If I were Ellen, I’d be doing
nothing to bring attention to myself. Then again, I could be making a lot out
of nothing.

When she
opens the door, Ellen’s wearing a pair of faded jeans and a grey Cubs t-shirt,
which takes me by surprise. “You’re from Nevada,” I point out, nodding to the
shirt.

She
grins. “I always root for the underdog.”

“They
haven’t won a World Series since 1908. The last time they were even in the
playoffs was in 2008. A hundred year stretch, and still not making it, is worse
than being an underdog.”

Then she
laughs. “That’s right. You lived in Illinois as a kid.”

“There’s
always next year.” I wink at her.

Ellen
waves her finger. “Next year, is
this
year.”

I laugh
again. I’ve got to hand it to Cubs fans, they’re eternal optimists.

She grabs
her purse and locks her door and we head down the stairs. “Do you know the
stats of all the major teams?”

“No. I
don’t really follow baseball.”

“Yet you
just dished on my Cubbies.”

“When you
live in the middle of Illinois, you’re usually either a Cardinals fan or a Cubs
fan, and each year it’s an intense rivalry.”

Ellen
grins. “I think I’d like it there.”

“Only if
you’re a Cardinals fan.” I laugh.

“So,
where are we off to?” Ellen asks as we step outside. The sun is warm and spring
is in the air.

When the
hell did I get so sappy? I’m a jock, not a romantic.

“Lunch
and the park?”

Her eyes
brighten. “Good. I’m starving.”

We make
our way to the small parking lot behind the house. My SUV is next to her Audi.
“I’ll drive,” she calls. “We’ll put the top down and enjoy the day.”

Being the
guy, I thought I should drive, but what the hell. It is a hot car. Almost as
hot as its owner. How fast does this baby go anyway? Maybe we should head up
into the mountains instead of the park outside of town. 

I follow
her to the driver’s side and she frowns up at me. “I’m driving my car,” she
points out.

“Yes.
And, I’m opening your door.”

She
blinks, then smiles as I grab the handle.

“Why
thank you, good sir.” She starts the engine and then pushes a button and the
top begins folding itself back before I get to the passenger door. 

The tan
leather is as soft as butter and the seat cushions every part of my body. I
could get used to traveling in such luxury, but can’t even imagine how much
this car set her back. Then again, her father is, or was, a multimillionaire,
though I would have thought the feds confiscated everything that asswipe owned,
including bank accounts. Then again, guys like Ellen’s father don’t keep their
money in the States. He probably has it setting in the Caymans.

“Nice
car.” It practically purrs as we pull out onto the main road.

“Thanks.
It was a graduation gift from my grandparents.”

Oh, so it
wasn’t purchased with Daddy’s illegal fortune. And which grandparents? The ones
with the problems with the estate? Or, was that a bogus story too?

“I told
them it was too much. I lived in New York and was staying there for my
post-graduate degree. This baby has spent more time under a tarp in a garage
than on the road.”

That’s
just fucking sad. “Well, at least you get to drive it now. A beauty like this
belongs on the open road.”

Ellen
grins as she shifts into fifth gear just after merging onto the highway. She
pushes a button on her steering wheel and classical music swells from the sound
system. I don’t recognize it, not that I ever listen to classical music, so
that shouldn’t be a surprise. “Who’s this?”

“Not who,
but what.”

“Okay,
what?”

“I guess
who is correct too.” She laughs. “Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake.”

“A
ballet, right?”

“Yes.”
Ellen just shakes her head. She never did get a chance to culturize me.
“There’s dance at Baxter, right?”

“Sure.”
The only thing I know about the dance department is what makes it into the
school newspaper.

“Do they
hold performances?”

“Sure.”

Ellen’s
shaking her head. “You’ve never gone.”

I shrug.

She rolls
her eyes and focuses back on the road. “I know there is a concert next week.
What kind?”

“Orchestra,
not the band.” This I do know for certain, but only because Ethan wrote an
article about the music and composers they were highlighting. These are the
types of articles I also send to the local news media. Just because the school
is private doesn’t mean concerts, plays, recitals and exhibits are. Tickets are
available online and once a person passes the proper screening, they are
allowed entrance.  Not that I’m overly confident with their screening of late.

“Do you
even attend the performances?”

My face
heats. “It’s just not my thing.” Though I should support the kids more, I
suppose.

She sighs
as if disappointed.

I look
out to the passing scenery. It’s nice being with her again. I get what happened
in New York and why. What I don’t get, is why she thinks something bad is
happening at Baxter.  I study her profile. She’s slightly moving to the music.
If she wasn’t driving, I bet she’d be dancing, probably going through the steps
in her head. The music is moving. Maybe I’ve been missing out on a lot by not
attending performances.

Maybe,
just maybe we can salvage what started and move forward, except I’m not sure
what she’s thinking or feeling.

I relax
further back in my seat, let the music wash over me and glance out the window,
just enjoying being with her, watching the trees starting to leaf out and
wildflowers blooming at the side of the road as we head to our
destination…going in the wrong direction I realize too late.

But, I
didn’t exactly tell Ellen which park or where we’d get lunch, and I don’t
really care. I just like riding in this car, with Ellen, and no particular
destination in mind.

“I wanted
to be a ballerina.”

This
takes me by surprise and I glance over. I shouldn’t be surprised though. I did
find her dancing that first morning.

Fuck, so
much is falling into place and I glance at her. “That apartment is yours, not
Paige’s.”

Her face
colors. “No, it belongs to Paige. I didn’t make that up.”

“You
still practice though.”

“She does
have the space, barre and mirror.”

“How did
you get interested in ballet or did your mother make you take all kinds of lessons
and that one stuck?”

She
laughs. “We were in Russia because Father had to meet with business associates
and he took me to see the Kirov Ballet. I was only five, but I fell in love
with the music and the dancers. I begged and begged to take ballet and he
finally allowed it when I was eight. I was going to be the greatest prima
ballerina.” The smile slips from her face. “It’s the first time I met Uncle
Victor.”

“Victor?”

“Krestyanov.
Before he moved to America.”

I read
that name several times in the reports. Russian mafia, specializing in human
trafficking. Young girls from Russia trained to be high class prostitutes. Kept
on exclusive estates for the single purpose of servicing rich clientele.

Ellen’s
knuckles are turning white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. I need to
get her mind focused somewhere else, at least while she’s driving. “Why did you
stop?”

“The
lessons ended when Father was arrested.” She blinks and glances to the side
mirror. “I was good. Really good and looking into dance schools at the time.”

That
sucks. “But you still attend the ballet?”

She
smiles again, except it’s a little sad. “Every chance I get.” Ellen turns to
look at me, a mischievous twinkle in her brown eyes. “I still can’t be believe
they let an uncultured jock like you into a school like Baxter.” She pulls off
the road into a parking lot of a country diner and turns off the engine.

Ellen

We slide
into a booth beside the long windows facing the parking lot and a waitress puts
glasses of water on the table and menus in front of us. This place looks like
it hasn’t changed from the fifties, with the long counter with stools and the
kitchen behind the wall with the opening to slide food through. There is a guy
back there, white ticket orders hanging above his head and he’s placing plates
in the opening for the waitresses to pick up. Steam rolls up and it sounds like
he’s frying a burger. The stools and the booth seats are covered in red vinyl
and I bet they have the best milkshakes around.

“If your
grandparents bought you a car for your undergraduate, what did they get you
when you earned your masters?’

My heart
squeezes tight and painfully. “Nothing. They died before I graduated.”

He sobers
and sympathy flashes in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t
lying about issues arising from the estate.” I still feel their loss. They are
the only ones who stood by and supported me when I did what I felt I had to do.
“They’re the reason.” I finally whisper.

Gabe
leans forward. “For what?”

“Why I
didn’t go into…” I trail off, hoping he get it.

He’s
frowning and then a light dawns in his eyes. “Why?” he asks quietly.

“I would
have never seen them again.”

He just
nods and I’m pretty sure he gets it.

“Look,
let’s talk about something else.” I glance around. The diner is full of people.
I know I’m being paranoid, and irrational, but I can’t be too careful right
now.

The
waitress comes over to take our order. I glance at Gabe. “Mind if we get it to
go.”

He smiles
at me. “No problem.”