Keep Dancing (31 page)

“I was so angry at him for leaving us. I didn’t think he deserved to be part of your life,” she said defiantly.

Fresh hurt scraped my scabbed-over wounds. “But why didn’t you tell me when I was older? Or all those times I asked if you knew where he was?”

She sighed. “After a while his letters stopped coming. I didn’t keep his address.”

“But it would have meant so much to me!” I cried. “I could have forgiven him a little bit, if I knew he’d at least tried to reach me.”

When she spoke, she sounded utterly defeated. “I guess there are some things you’ll have to forgive me for, too.”

There was a small crowd by the water cooler. Approaching with my cup, I saw Brenda from accounting in the middle of a clutch of women. She had dark circles under her eyes, but she was smiling beatifically. “Take a look at this gorgeous little one,” Cathy said to me.

Brenda passed me the picture. The baby had two wisps of auburn hair and an adorable button nose. “Congratulations!” I said, handing it back. “She’s beautiful. I’m so happy for you.”

“We’re having her baptism this Sunday. I’ve got her the prettiest crocheted Easter dress,” Brenda cooed as the others returned to their offices.

“How are you feeling now?” I asked in a low voice. Brenda looked confused. “I mean the water retention,” I said. “Have your feet gone back to normal size? And the acid reflux; I assume that’s all better.”

“Oh, that. I don’t even really remember. Anyway, it was all worth it. I mean, look at her!” She beamed.

“It definitely was. Well, congrats again!”

I filled my cup and went back to my desk. Stuart, the head writer for the late-night show, was dropping off the first chapters of the humor book today. Since he was such a live wire over the phone, I was looking forward to meeting him in person.

But when the receptionist buzzed me, her voice sounded strange. “Stuart is in the lobby. You’d better get out here right away,” she said.

“What is it?” I asked, but she had hung up. I hurried down the hall toward the lobby. At first I didn’t understand what was happening; a skinny guy in a tee-shirt was running around, darting at what looked like whizzing cotton balls. He picked one up and approached me, cradling a large spotted rabbit in a football hold.

“Hi, I’m Stuart. I guess my little joke didn’t go over too well,” he said.

I gasped at the rabbits bounding around the room. “What did you do?”

“I thought it would be funny to bring you an Easter gift. We’re big on gags at my office. Here, you hold Thomas. Come back here, Peter!” He made a snatch for a big black bunny with tufted ears. The receptionist had put one on her desk, and was trying to keep it from gnawing her pencils.

Ted came running into the lobby. “Julia! What is this?”

I made a grab for a flop-ear and just managed to get hold of its hind legs, which were surprisingly strong. I hefted it up and held it against me as it struggled. “Ted, meet Stuart. Stuart wanted to play a little Easter prank. He says they do this all the time at their office,” I added as the rabbit kicked maniacally in my arms.

“Matthew, come back here!” Stuart shouted as he darted after a gray ball of fluff. “They’re named after the apostles. Why don’t you catch him, I’ll try to nab Judas,” he added to Ted.

“Okay,” Ted said as he took off down the hall. “I was on the track team at Harvard!”

An hour later, we’d rounded up all the rabbits and sent them packing with Stuart. I was still catching my breath at my desk when my line lit up.

“Ms. Nash. I hear we had a rodent infestation on your floor.” Perry sounded apoplectic.

“I’m so sorry! I had no idea he was going to do that,” I said.

“I hope you realize that if word got out, we could lose our lease. The landlord’s been trying to get rid of us for the past four years.”

I gulped. “I don’t think anyone will tell. It was just me, Ted, Stuart, and the receptionist. And the bunnies.” I stifled a nervous snicker.

“Hmph. See that it doesn’t happen again.” Perry slammed down the phone.

The one good thing I did that week—other than not get fired—was to send Dermot’s novella back to him. It was covered in so many red marks, it looked like it had been drawn and quartered. I was a little anxious about his reaction to the heavy editing, since I knew people tended to tiptoe around him. But I had to get it into the best shape possible in the little time we had left. I figured if he didn’t like my comments, he could always have another go with Erica.

I was sitting in my open window in a tank top and cutoffs, trying to catch a late afternoon breeze, watching the lights change from red to green further down Broome Street. Now that it was mid-May, New York was experiencing its own early heat wave. In an attempt to keep my electric bill down, I’d been trying not to run my window unit. Feeling too lethargic to move, I almost didn’t answer the phone. Finally I grabbed it on the fourth ring.

“Somebody wants to say hello.” There was a rustling sound, and I heard heavy panting. Jack’s voice came back on the line. “Muddy really misses you. Why don’t you come over and see him? We can share custody.”

I was hit by a longing to hold my dog. I’d missed his excitement at going out for a run; the way he listened as if he understood every word. “Could I take him for a walk?”

“I’ll have him leashed and ready. Want to meet me here?” Jack asked.

I didn’t want to go up to his apartment. “I’ll wait outside your building.”

“Can you come now? He’s going crazy, now that he’s heard your voice.”

“Sure, I’m not doing anything. I’d like a little fresh air; it’s stifling.” I lifted a corner of my tank and wiped my sweaty face.

“What do you have on?” Jack’s voice deepened.

“Um, a tank top and cutoffs. Why?”

“Leave that on, okay? Don’t change a thing. I’m wearing cutoffs too,” he added.

“All right, I won’t change. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Good boy! Good Muddy!” I knelt on the sidewalk and hugged our puppy, who’d gotten even bigger in the weeks since I’d last seen him. Muddy put his paws on my shoulders and licked my face ecstatically. I was laughing and crying at the same time. “Hey, boy. It’s so good to see you,” I murmured into his furry neck.

Jack extended his hand and pulled me up as Muddy ran circles around us, trailing the leash behind him. Jack held onto my hand for a moment longer, and my smile faded as our eyes locked. He broke away first, bent down and picked up the leash. He stood up slowly, taking in my short cutoffs, my thin white tank. “You didn’t change your outfit.” His face had a glazed look that I knew well.
It doesn’t mean anything
, I reminded myself.
He’s probably thinking we can run upstairs for a quick one-off, like that time in Richmond.

“I told you I wouldn’t,” I said lightly. “You didn’t either.” His own shorts came to mid-knee, and he wore one of his favorite tee-shirts, tie-dyed Rastafarian red, yellow and green.

“I’m gonna come along with you. He almost got away from me the other night.” Jack wrapped the leather strap around his wrist a few times, and we headed east. “He likes to run around Tompkins Square. We just have to make sure no used needles are lying about.”

We reached the small park on Avenue A, and Jack and I scoured the area for junkie debris. The enclosure was clear, so he shut the gate and unhooked the leash. Muddy ran around frenetically barking, nosing up clods of dirt. Jack drew a toy from his pocket and threw it for him over and over. I watched the flex of muscle in his forearm; the outline of his shoulders in the worn tee. I would have thought my attraction to him would have faded with the passage of time, but apparently that wasn’t the case.
Don’t be ridiculous,
I told myself.
You’re only here to see your dog.

Muddy came trotting over, tongue lolling. “Let’s take a break,” Jack said. We went over to a shaded bench and Muddy lay at our feet. Jack put his arm on the back of the bench. “Why’d you vanish on me in Richmond?” His dark brows furrowed.

For a moment I listened to a bird insistently chirping in a tree.
Why are they always so happy?
I wondered. “I needed time to think. About my father,” I clarified.

“Are you going to call him?” Jack leaned closer, and I could feel the light touch of his hand on my back.

I looked down at my lap. “I haven’t decided yet. Dot admitted some things that made a little more sense of his disappearing act.”

“I think you should give the guy a second chance,” Jack said.

I almost blurted out,
You’re one to talk about giving second chances!
But I maintained my cool. Suzanne had called me just last week; she was back in New York, and living with Mark again. She’d also said that Jack was going out on the town every night. I was sure he was back to his old ways, screwing around with various flavors of the week. He had definitely moved on; I didn’t want to make a pathetic play for him when obviously it was hopeless.

“I have a confession to make,” Jack said. “I had Mary Jo book only one room at the hotel. I figured if you really pitched a fit, I could go somewhere else.” He gave me a guilty smile.

So he had his little seduction scene all planned out. He manipulated things for his own benefit, just so he wouldn’t have to go without sex for a few days. Even with everything that was going on with me, he put his own selfish needs first.

I jumped up off the bench. “I’m heading back. Muddy should stay and rest some more.” I started toward the gate.

“What are you doing? Here, I’ll walk you home.” Jack caught up with me, Muddy in tow.

“I’m going to pick up some groceries. You can’t bring him in the store.” I was striding briskly, but Jack stayed by my side.

“We can wait outside while you shop. Slow down; where’s the fire?” he added as he yanked Muddy away from a piece of garbage on the sidewalk. Jack put his hand on my arm, and I stopped. “Why don’t you come up and say hello to the mantises? They won’t be around much longer. I’m gonna release them in the Botanical Gardens soon. Now that they’re grown, I need to set them free.”

He thinks I’m so desperate that I’ll sleep with him with no strings attached—the way I did in Richmond.
I took one last long look at his dark arching eyebrows, his luxuriously thick hair, those sexy lines around his mouth. For the last time, I met his warm brown eyes.

“I’m sorry, Jack. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

Let’s Dance

“All right, time to begin.” Ted polished his glasses on his shirt sleeve. “Anything good on submission this week?”

Erica picked up a sheaf of papers. “I have in a very strong proposal about. . .” Her voice died away.

Perry strode into the room, putting a stop to the conversation. “I have an announcement to make. For the first time in two years, we have a title debuting at number one.”

All eyes turned to Erica, who had a memoir by a controversial senator that was expected to hit the list at any minute. She tilted her face expectantly.

“
Little Things Can Be Big
has the top spot in this Sunday’s
New York Times
,” Perry said.

A jolt zipped through me as a gasp went around the room.

“Congratulations, Julia!” Ted exclaimed. Cathy started to clap, and the others joined in.

“Senator Mallard’s at number five, so congrats to Erica too,” Perry added.

Erica stood up and bowed, as if she’d won an Oscar.

“Is it okay if I go call the author?” I asked.

Perry nodded. “Sure. Where’s he from, Ohio? Tell him we want to bring him to New York. We need to start making some publicity plans.”

“Actually he’s from Omaha,” I said.

Perry waved his hand as if there was no difference. “The
Times
is calling me today to interview me about it. I always knew that little book had potential.”

Ted caught my eye and winked as I went out the door. I had memorized my author’s number from our frequent phone calls, so I didn’t have to pull the rolodex card.

“Are you sitting down?” I said when he picked up.

“Yes, I am. Is everything okay?” came his chipper Midwestern voice.

“It’s more than okay—your book is number one on the
New York Times
!” I screamed.

“Woo-hoo! That’s great! Hold on a second, let me tell my wife.” He put his hand over the phone and gave her the news. I heard her whooping in the background. “Well, that is just dandy,” he continued.

“Better than dandy! Our publisher wants to bring you here. I think he might want you to do a tour.”

“Well, I’m at your service, all except this weekend. It’s our twentieth anniversary, and I want to take Marjorie somewhere special,” he replied.

“I’m sure we can work around it,” I said. “Congratulations on your anniversary—and your number one book! I had a feeling something good would happen!”

“Thank you so much, Julia. It wouldn’t have, without you. And never forget, little things…” He paused.

“Can be BIG!” I shouted.

As I hung up the phone, Erica stepped into my office. “Well, you’re quite the cheerleader.”

I was so elated that her dig didn’t bother me. “He’s such a nice guy. I’m so happy for him.”

“Doesn’t reflect badly on you, either, does it? Unlike Dermot’s book. I hear it’s very short, and not all that good.” Erica smirked. “Which could apply to a certain body part of his, now that I think of it.”

I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”

She surveyed me coolly. “I came down to make a lunch date. Are you free next Thursday?”

I guess now that I have a bestseller, she has time in her busy schedule
. “Sure. I don’t make plans that far ahead.”

“Pencil me in. We’ll have a lot to talk about.”

I was getting dressed to go for a run the following Sunday afternoon when my phone rang. Reluctantly I reached for it; I didn’t feel like getting into another long conversation with Dot right now. She’d been trying to justify not telling me about Paul’s visit, and while I’d told her to forget it, I was tired of rehashing it with her.