Chapter Eight
There were muffled voices all around. She could feel the sound waves from the pounding baseline of rock music as it blared in her bones, jumbling her thoughts, unable to make out the lyrics. It was always this way, the same. She felt strong and nimble fingers along the back of her neck, sweep her lolling head, sitting her up, then liquid, sweet and syrupy, gliding down her throat. “That’s right,” a deep, male voice echoed quietly in her ear. “Be a good girl and swallow this all down. You won’t feel a thing. It’ll make it all better.” Owen’s voice. Then the tender tug of her hair being pet down toward her back. “You are so beautiful. Just lay back darling.” Then the laughter, rotating faces in her mind, faces of men, men that she knew but didn’t know. Shadows in the darkness. Echoes of laughter encircling her, wrapping her in the merriment, only she didn’t know what was funny. It was at her. They were laughing at her, and panic rose within her soul, strangling her breath, feeling the walls close in around her. Then the light, she was floating, flying and soaring with the noise, weightless and free. She sought out the light. Running, she needed to run.
The light dimmed to that sacred time, when night takes over day, the pastels and soft pinks and blues of twilight. She saw his face, Tom’s face, that dark hair and chiseled jawline with a halo surrounding him, the streetlight’s glow raining down on them. Then his lean and solid fingers gently embracing her face, his head lowering to hers, his soft yet firm lips covering her mouth, enticing an urge from within her, a need, deep and elemental, rising from her toes to her head, through her fingers. She longed to touch him, his strong and sturdy shoulders, feel the muscles beneath her skin, match the passion that flowed through her to bring him pleasure and tenderness, yet she couldn’t move. She arched her back towards him, felt her breasts taught against his chest, surging joy through her until …. A loud clashing sound repeating over and over abruptly shook to an acknowledgement that this was all fantasy. It was her alarm clock, frantically bleating.
She awoke with a sudden jolt, instantly sitting up, panting with breathlessness, her nightshirt drenched in sweat. She leaned over to stretch her arm out to shut off the alarm. “Oh God.” She still felt that deep aching need. What on earth was this about? She’d been in that same old dream, then it morphed into Tom, of being with Tom, feeling him, needing him. It was clear she wouldn’t need a warm up this morning, but instead a cool down. Yes, she’d need to cool down a bit before she ran with him.
She collapsed back, her head hitting her tousled pillows. “Dear Lord, what are you doing?” Maybe two minutes to catch my breath. She laid there, slowing her breathing, her mind pulling itself from the fantasy to prepare for her reality.
* * *
They’d been running for two weeks, he thought, as they pounded the pavement side by side. He knew he had to be patient, but this was like torture for him, excruciating. But that’s what his father had told him, wasn’t it? This would be painful. They’d broken ground, sharing with each other; their fears, their dreams, their past. He was gently persuading her to open up, to expose that part of her that contained her agony and sorrow.
And even though he knew he couldn’t touch her, really touch her, the way he needed to, desperately needed to, he was baring a part of her, her essence, her psyche, her being, perhaps as a man had never done before. She was close to her father, yes, but not like he should’ve been. Her grief was wide and deep and he would need infinite patience to win her heart.
Something was different this morning. There was a distance between them that there hadn’t been before. As they lowered themselves to sit for their ten-minute talk, Tom asked, “Is anything wrong? You’re quieter than usual today.”
“No, just sort of deep in thought. Lots of things on my mind.”
“Well, that’s what we’re here for. What’s going on in there?” he asked, as he gently poked his fingertip to her head.
“I have a favor to ask and I’m not sure how to ask you.” Etta bit at her bottom lip. “I got a call from a friend yesterday. He’s in town for a friend’s wedding, making it kind of a combination pleasure-slash-business trip. He’s got a suite at one of the swanky hotels in town and invited me for a cocktail party and – well, it’s this Friday, so it’s short notice, but I wondered, if you didn’t have plans – well, would consider being my escort?” She sat and waited a moment. “It’s not a date. He’s in publishing and well, it would be good for me to, you know, be seen. It’s a little unconventional, but …”
“I’d be glad to. Suit and tie?”
“Actually, no. It sounds weird, and he’s a little, let’s say eccentric. It’s a pool party. He’s catered the affair and rented the hotel pool exclusively for the event.”
“Well, that’s definitely different.”
“Yes, it is. But, then again, I like to swim. Not sure how much swimming there’ll be though,” she said, somewhat chagrined.
Tom’s mind wandered to what it would be like to stand around, listening to her talk about literature, with Etta at his side, in a bikini. Those thoughts lingered for a while, until he, shaking his head, snapped himself out of it. ”Hmm… Well it’s kind of ironic because I’ve got something similar, next week, a kind of kick start to hockey season. They’re having a dinner to announce the coaches for the upcoming year, for parents and boosters. There’s a bunch of us, including Murphy, who are going to be coaching PeeWees and Bantams for the season. I think he’s taking Izzy. I wasn’t going to ask you because I figured you’d think I was hitting on you, but it would be fun to have you along, if you want to go.”
Etta threw back her head giggling like a girl, which was really rare for her.
“What? Why are you laughing?”
She turned to look in his eyes. “Aren’t we a pitiful pair? Both of us afraid to ask for a date. Just call a spade a spade, Tom. And it’s for convenience, socially convenient, so, as always, we must keep things square between us,” she cast him a wry grin, “I’ll go if you’ll go. We can play dress up for each other.”
* * *
Tom’s hand twitched as his palm splayed at the small of her back when they stepped off the elevator, into the humid environment of the hotel’s lower-level pool. As she entered the doorway of the female dressing room, she said, “I’ll see you on the other side.”
She chose a locker, stuffed her coat, jeans, top and pocketbook inside, then locked it and swung the plastic handle with the key around her wrist. She’d pulled on a see-through cover up to cover the small patches of burgundy bikini underneath, tying a colorful sarong wrap around her waist and her three-inch wedges as her fashion choice for the evening. She’d worn waterproof mascara, because she really did want to swim. It was a rare treat to be invited to a pool and she would take advantage of it, if she could.
She walked out of the dressing room, glancing in the full-length mirror on her way out the door. She looked swanky enough to impress anyone tonight. She had to keep her wits about her, so only light drinks. Tom was standing at the exit, waiting for her, his dark brown eyes gazing at her face, scanning up and down, then to her eyes. “All I can say is wow. You look wonderful.”
“Well, thank you. I’ve been working out. I guess it shows.”
“Indeed, it does. How did I get so lucky to escort such a beauty tonight?”
“Clean living? And thank you. You look pretty good yourself, Tom. Oh yeah, you said yes.” Her heart had leaped a bit at the vision of him, shirtless, a teal-blue towel thrown over his shoulder. His muscles rippled as he reached out to her as he offered her an elbow and she took it, folding her hand over his arm. His other hand closed over hers, as he walked her around the edge of the pool.
“There he is, at the far corner. Donny.” Etta pointed in the direction of a small group of two men and two women near a tall cocktail table in a corner. One woman was seated in her skimpy gold bikini at the cocktail table, with a slender, tan man with bronze-tipped blond hair standing attentively nearby. Another woman, in a one-piece swimsuit and tasteful cover-up, was standing near to the table. An athletic-looking tan and shirtless man with a chiseled face, searing blue eyes and an impeccable set of abs was seated in a lounge chair nearby. “That’s Donny, sitting down.”
“He looks like he’s holding court,” Tom said, glancing to her face, to see how she read the situation. “In a way, he is. These are mostly industry people, editors, other local writers, artists. I think my Masters professor is coming here tonight too.” A small group of people were in the pool, tossing a beach ball back and forth to one another. Their voices and quiet giggles echoed in the room, with swaying Mamba music in the background.
“Okay, so this is an important deal?”
She looked up into his eyes. “Yes, or I wouldn’t have asked you. I don’t know how to thank you.” She raised up on her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Well, that’s a nice start. But you really don’t have to. It’s just nice to spend time with you. You’ll probably be bored at my thing next week.”
She smiled at him. “I’m sure I ….”
Donny rose up out of his chair as he saw Etta approaching, holding both arms up and out to greet her. “Etta, my darling! I’m so glad to see you.” He walked over to them, grabbed Etta by the arm, then swooped her off her feet, lifting her up under her knees and kissing her deeply on the lips as he walked away with her. He sat her next to the lounge chair where he had been, then put his hand on her thigh, possessively. “It’s been forever since I’ve seen you.” He stroked his hand down her long hair. Glancing up to Tom, he said, “You must forgive my exuberance, but it’s not often I see such a beautiful woman coming for me!”
“Donny, you’re just too much,” Etta said, giggling at his happiness.
Tom stood in shocked horror. Who was this guy? And why did he think he could touch her like that? My God, look where he had his hand. He wanted to chew him up and throw away the core.
“I have a big surprise for you. I’ve been excited for it all week and wanted to tell you in person.” His crystalclear blue eyes were sparkling in delight. “Are you ready? You’re going to be published. I found out on Tuesday.”
Etta threw her arms around him and plastered her lips against his mouth with wild abandon. “Oh, Donny. You’re the best. I’m so happy! Why didn’t you ….” She kissed his lips again, with a loud smacking sound.
A nerve in Tom’s cheek twitched as he watched the spectacle of Etta’s affection towards this man in such a public display. The green-eyed monster had possessed him and it was taking all his strength not to let the anger, disappointment and rage that was building towards Donny surface into action.
“It’s an anthology of Native American folk tales, but they were very pleased to put yours as one of the featured selections. ‘White Feather and The Black Wolf’ is your first, official paying published work and I’m so proud of you.” He put his hand behind her neck, leaned over to give her another kiss, next to her lips and stroked her nearly bare back. “And don’t you look pretty! A lovelier sight I’ve never seen. Jack, don’t you think Etta’s lovely tonight?” he asked of the other man standing near the tall table.
The blond man spoke in a deep, soothing voice. “As always, a vision to behold, Etta. Congratulations! Couldn’t have happened to a better woman.” He walked over to her, took her hand and placed a gentle kiss to the back of her hand.
“Always the gentleman, Jack. It’s nice to see you here.”
“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away. I like to tag along, especially when it’s good news. And who is it you have tagging along this evening?”
“Jack Robart, this is Tom Donato. Tom this is Jack and Donny Youngblood. Tom is a new friend of mine here in Marquette.”
Tom reached out a hand to shake with each man, “Pleased to meet you.”
“The feeling’s mutual, Tom. Any friend of Etta’s a friend of mine. Would you care for a drink? Etta, what would you like?” Jack asked. “Etta, Tom, this is Monique and Jacqueline, some of the guests for this evening. Monique, you needed a refill, didn’t you? Tom, would you be willing to escort these ladies to get drink in the bar while Donny and I monopolize some time with Etta?”
Now Tom was really annoyed. Etta looked up at him and winked, thinking, well, he might find some attraction to the two lovely women who had both come to either side of him, linking their arms with his. “I’d take some white wine, if you would, Tom. Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine and I’d be happy to.” He walked, arm-in-arm with Monique and Jackie, who had quickly attached themselves to a good-looking young man. He made their way towards the open bar, glancing back once to see what Etta was doing.
Donny took hold of both of Etta’s hands. “Of course, you know, now that you’ve got something published, we’re going to need more. Keep it coming, honey. But, enough shop talk. Since we’ve got you to ourselves. Who is the dreamboat? Etta, what have you been up to?”
Etta pursed her lips, glancing between Jack and Donny, “He’s just a friend. His family owns the house where I’m renting a room. We run together. That’s it. He’s a nice friend and you’re embarrassing him.” She said this in as lecturing of a tone as possible.
Donny caressed the top of her hand lightly, “Oh, darling. You’re in love,” now patting her hand. “It’s so endearing. You have that glow about you. Isn’t it sweet, Jack?”
“I most certainly am not!” Etta jerked her hand away in response. “I said, we’re friends. Was I mumbling when I said that? We’re friends.”
Jack leaned back against the table, his wine glass gently swaying in his fingers. “Me thinks thou doth protest too much.”
“Jack, don’t go quoting Shakespeare. He’s a friend.”
“Well, that friend was sending daggers towards Donny when you kissed him. If looks could kill, Donny’d most certainly be dead. Looks as though it’s a two-way thing,” he said, turning his attention to Donny. “They’re both obviously in love but haven’t admitted it yet. Just look at them. They’ll make beautiful babies.”
“Good, God, Jack. Babies? All I did was bring the man here for a drink. He’s someone on my arm and in return I’m doing the same favor for him next week. Don’t read more into it than there is.”
Donny stood up, took Jack’s hand, “Ahh, another party next week. We need to leave her alone with it, Jack. She’ll figure it out in her own. I’m sorry to leave you here alone, dear, in such an agitated state, but there are some people who just arrived who need our attention.”
Etta heaved out a deep sigh. “I am not agitated, but I understand.”
Donny arose from his chair, still holding Etta’s hand, squeezed it and said, “I’ll be back after a bit. Must mingle, you know. Later, darling.” He patted her cheek as he and Jack walked towards the entrance to the pool area.
Tom came up from behind her minutes later, handed her a glass of white wine, sat down in the chair next to Etta, his face flushed with irritation. “You seem to know Donny fairly well,” he said tersely, looking over to see her reaction.
Etta studied Tom’s expression, seeing that he was miffed in some way. Was he truly jealous? “He’s an old friend and, well, he’s my agent. Jack is an editor. They’re a tandem team, if you get my drift.” She scanned his face again, hoping for recognition of what she was saying. “Donny’s flamboyant and over the top. It’s just the way he is and what makes him a very good agent.” Tom’s face didn’t seem to change.
“I don’t like the way he touched you,” he said, unflinchingly, annoyance in his voice. A part of him was annoyed with his own resentment.
“Good, God, Tom, he’s gay. He’s here with Jack. He may have been kissing me, but he was checking you out, no doubt drooling.” She smiled at him, again hoping to see him ease in some way. This evening was getting to be too intense for Etta. It was wonderful that she had news of getting published. It was exposure and since her work was featured, it was quite exciting. But where did Tom’s reaction come from? Why were her friends seeing something in the way they behaved to draw such conclusions? It isn’t as if she was moon-eyed over the guy.
“Oh, good. I’d hate to have to kill him.” He breathed out a sigh of relief. “What do you mean by drooling?” Etta just laughed.
* * *
She sat in the waiting area outside of the main work room of the Tae Kwon Do studio where she took selfdefense classes on Wednesday evenings. She couldn’t help but smile as little kids would come out of their lesson, dressed in their white karate outfits, faces lit up like the sun, so excited to share with their mom or dad the exciting things they’ve been doing, how they’d broken a board or gotten a takedown on their friend. The thrill in their voices made her think of how important these little joys were to children, how the work the instructors were doing with these kids was more important than perhaps they even realized. It was building self-esteem and a bonding with their parents that was better than pure gold.
She had enjoyed the Marquette Hockey Association dinner more than she thought she would. Their table had been filled with friends, Murphy and Izzy. Wally and Maz went stag, both quiet guys, the four of men in their group, along with two others had gone up front to be announced as coaches for the upcoming year. She felt a flush of pride, and yes, lust, watching Tommy, handsome, sleek in his blue suit, his hair pulled back smooth, and his exquisite face that looked as if it had been carved by the gods. She admired his willingness to help others and the solidarity he had with his friends. His suit didn’t fit quite right, because of his bulky biceps. She thought of the strength and solitude it took to be as fit as he’d once been, how he had a solidity few men possessed to carry his load of loss in the past year and still reach out to kids. She reflected that the subconscious pull she had towards him wasn’t just in her sleep. She felt the same urges seeing him now and she was fully awake. And it wasn’t just a physical sensation. Her heart melted at what a genuinely honest and kind person he was on the inside too.
How long could she hold back these yearnings? Who could she talk to about this? She couldn’t share this with Tom. She leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling, as she patiently waited for the children to exit the work room and the half a dozen or so women in her class to enter. She had to talk this out and get an unbiased perspective. She couldn’t go to Izzy. That was just too close. And her father? Well, there were some things they would never be able to discuss with her father and men and her feelings about men, were top on that list. She would write to Peggy. Although she was younger, she was a listening ear who didn’t judge, someone who knew her history and could understand who didn’t have any skin in the game. But writing would take so long. Peggy had moved to Ohio about the same time she’d moved to Marquette. She’d find out how she was doing and it would be so much easier just to call her.
In the meantime, she had all this extra energy to diffuse. She’d give her self-defense class some of that vitality. She’d give Keith, her instructor, an extra kick and he’d wonder what got into her. Tonight they were going over how to break a hold and fight back. This could be fun and would definitely wear off some of her energy.
* * *
Etta was pretty sure Peggy would be home by 8 pm that night. From her room, she dialed her number. “Hello,” Peggy answered.
“Hi Peggy. It’s Etta. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Etta! Oh my gosh. No, this is a great time. It’s so good to hear your voice. You just don’t know how good it is to hear your voice.” Etta could hear her struggling to keep from crying in her broken voice.
“Are you okay, honey? I know I’m surprising you, but I thought I’d call for a change. I didn’t think it would upset you. What’s going on?”
“Oh God, Etta. It’s just so nice to hear from someone who … well, somebody who loves me. I feel so alone here. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“From your letters, I thought things were going okay. It doesn’t sound so damned okay. What’s happening?” “Jesus, Etta. I just don’t know where to begin. I’m dead broke and I mean dead broke. I’m eating a pancake or a hot dog six days a week and that’s it. On the one extra day a week I really treat myself to fried rice. I had no idea it was going to be like this.” She chuckled awkwardly. “On the up side, I’m losing a ton of weight.”
“Shit, Peggy, why are you so damned broke? You shouldn’t be living like that. I thought you were going to be making good money as a court reporter?”
“Well, I’m supposed to be, but – Oh, God, everything’s just been going wrong. I’ve done a lot of work, but they say I don’t get paid until the lawyers’ pay their bills and that might be years, until their cases are closed. Until then, it just sits out there as a bill due to them, which is no big deal for rich lawyers, but I need it. The firm pays me something monthly, but it really only covers my rent and there’s a limit of six months for that and now that’s worn down. I don’t want to tell my folks I’m so broke. They’ll want me to come home and I already feel like a failure. It’ll get better, but it may take a while.”
“Oh, Peggy, I don’t know what to say. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m all right. I don’t call people ‘cause I can’t afford the long-distance. I just feel very alone. About three weeks after I started, about half the girls all quit on one day and started their own firm. Now there’s hardly anybody left. And I don’t really know what I’m doing yet.” She could hear Peggy crying quietly over the phone, then she let out a deep sigh. “Oh, Etta, you didn’t call to hear about my woes. I know it’ll be okay. It’s just – well, I suppose everybody has these kind of things happen in life, tough times, you know? If anybody knows, you do.”
“Yes, I do know. I hate that you’re so lonely. Will you do me a favor, Peggy?”
“Of course. You name it.” There was sniffling on the other end of the phone.
“It’s Thanksgiving week in two weeks and I have the whole week off. Come spend the week with me. I don’t want you to be alone for the holiday and I don’t want to be alone either. I’ll have my dad come too. I’ll send you some gas money and you can drive up here and spend the week. Will you do that for me?”
“Oh Etta, you don’t know what that means to me. Of course I will. I was so --- well, I haven’t been looking forward to Thanksgiving or trying to figure out what to do, being alone here in Toledo. I was thinking of really splurging to get a case of beer and drink it for the whole weekend. Isn’t that just sad? Planning on drinking for a holiday?”
“I’m sure lots of people do that, Peggy, but you don’t have to. You know I love you and I’d love to have you come here to stay. I don’t know who all will be here, but we’ll find a place for you to lay your head and, even if it’s just you and me, we’ll make ourselves a feast. Will you come?”
“You bet I will! I’m so glad you called. It means so much to know you’re glad to have me up there. It’s a long drive, but it gives me something, anything, to look forward to.”
“Oh good. I had called to have girl talk with you, but – well, given what you’re going through, my troubles are just – well, they’re not really troubles.”
“Etta, don’t you dare. Don’t you dare make this all about me! You got a serious, serious mental perk out of me when you said ‘girl talk’. I have no friends here that will even talk to me about the weather. What is this girl talk you speak of?”
“Well, it’s about a guy, but you knew that though, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did. I’m so disgustingly lonely, Etta, I go to bars with a low-cut dress and heels just to get a free drink. It’s really sad to say that about myself. Using my assets to get food and drink. It’s shameful and the next best thing to being a prostitute and damn if it doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”
“Oh, Peggy, you shouldn’t be doing that. You’re far too beautiful, talented and, well, stacked, to do that kind of thing. You don’t know what kind of guy you’re going to pick up that way. You should be more careful.”
“Okay, okay. Enough of the lecture. So tell me about this guy. How did you meet him?”
Etta cleared her throat. “Umm, well, do as I say, not as I do.”
Peggy’s laughter roared over the phone. They had a wonderful talk, reaching out to help each other. Peggy and Etta were both genuinely thrilled to have a normal conversation with another woman they knew they could trust. Etta got a lot of the confusion out of her mind about what to do in her relationship with Tom and, really, how there really wasn’t, in the long and short of things, a true problem. It was just her own feelings that were confusing her. She had control of her thoughts, so she just had to manage how she thought and felt about him and things would be just fine.