Dancing Hours (5 page)

“Don’t go feeling too sad for
her
.  She decided how to treat people, how to live her life.  Anyone who tells you about all the bad thing
s
that keep happening to them is ignoring their part in it.”
She said.

“I guess so…” I trailed off.  It didn’t really make sense to me. I felt sorry for Mrs. Merchant,
Trixie
,
her gorgeous sons,
the
whole lot of them.  Life was so much easier in a family filled with love and acceptance.  I was pretty sure I could have dy
ed my hair blue, pierced my tongue
and gotten a tattoo on my
forehead
and my mother would still love me.  She’d be pretty darn mad, but she’d love me anyway.

After hearing Nan’s story about Mrs. Merchant, I thought she might be upset if I took cooking lessons and spent so much time
over at her house
, but Nan was full of surprises. 

“You should never let my opinions be your opinions without giving someone a try.  Some people just don’t get on and just because I think she’s a mean
-spirited
, small-minded, small town bully doesn’t mean she won’t be nice to you.  You’re not me, Andrea, and don’t ever forget it.”
She announced.

“OK”
I said, a little surprised.

“Besides, that woman sure does know how to cook.  It’d be nice if she taught you her peach cobbler recipe.”  Nan
said
appear
ing
to drift off into daydreaming about food.

6

The first time I met Noah was at a party towards the end of June. 
He had made friends easily in town – especially with some of the other girls
.  He spent a lot of time
playing basketball with
a group of
guys on the high school court.  I’d seen him there a few times
and other places, but I never had the nerve to approach him and
he’d never been at Mrs. Merchant’s house when I went for cooking lessons.

The party was
in full swing
when I got there with
Kate
– who had convinced me to wear shorts a little shorter t
han I liked and a shirt that mad
e me look more developed than I really was.  Thankfully, I had a comfortable pair of wedge sandals that matched because my tennis shoes would have looked a little ridiculous.  In spite of my outfit, I was comfortable.  Part of the reason I wanted to go
away to college
… okay, the whole reason, was my too comfortable life.  I’d walked the same streets and known the same kids my whole life.  Sometimes new people moved to town or old friends left, but the landscape of my life remained largely unchanged.  Both boys I’d kissed were at this party – all three if you counted Jeff Brooks who I kissed on a dare when I was 8.  No one here was a danger to me or each other.  The Seymour twins occasionally
graffiti’d
a building or
mailbox
out of boredom, but the harsh realities of big cities rarely touched my town.  When t
h
ey did, it was big news and the church folks and city council families watched the suspected offenders in the time honored small-town tradition of guilty until proven otherwise.  It was a suffocating condition that Nan seemed to understand best.  She’s the only one who encouraged my goal to explore outer space, so to speak; but even she didn’t want me to move away.

I had a great desire to be uncomfortable and so the outfit felt like a good step.  Meeting Noah was just another stone on the path.  He was in the game room at the back of the house.  After wandering through a sea of familiar faces, I gravitated to the room where I knew Shane’s mother kept a collection of postcards from foreign cities.  I’d been there a hundred times it seemed, looking at
faded photographs of
cobblestone streets and enormous high rise buildings.  Of all the pictures I’d seen of the Eiffel Tower, the one from her postcard
collection
was the most familiar.  Someday I would see it for myself
, from a different angle.

Both
Seymours
, who I referred to in my head as Thing 1 and Thing 2, were there playing pool
.
Noah was in the corner waiting his turn with two girls from the other high school.  They were smiling excessively at him and cradling half-empty wine coolers.  Varying levels of interest were expressed at my prese
nce and I muttered a general ‘Hey
’ to the room before going to the bookshelf next to the bar and plucking my favorite album out.

I felt overly conscious of him, like I could feel him across the room.  He was behind me, but the
little
hair
s
on my neck felt like he was watching.  Before long, it was his turn to shoot a
nd the cue ball was on my side
o
f
the table.  He walked beh
ind me, a little too closely I
hoped
, to
line up his shot.  I faded off behind the bar where I knew I wouldn’t be considered in
the way
.
  I laid the album down and faced the room, looking at postcards
from Rome, Italy.  From somewhere on the edges of my consciousness, I could hear the girls congratulating Noah for cleaning the table and Thing 2 groaning.  Maybe he’d l
ost a bet on that game. 
Kate
appeared beside me, wrapped an arm through mine and chided “This is supposed to be a party Andy!  Put away the books.”  I blushed, thankful for the dark room.  Noah was suddenly on the opposite side of the bar “Yeah, Andy, it’s a party.”  I had no
choice but to look him in the
e
y
e, but my thudding heart made it very difficult.  I smiled and looked around “So it is.”

“I finally meet the famous Andy.”

“Not yet.  Hey,
I’m Andy.  And you are?”

“Noah.”

“Well, Noah, now you’ve met the famous Andy.”

I felt stupid for trying to be funny.  I was a lot of things:  smart, nice
, maybe a little old fashioned
… funny was not one of my things.  Making jokes was great when it worked, but most of the time it didn’t and came off sounding like a middle class suburban kid using urban street slang.  It just didn’t fit.

Noah smiled charitably anyway.  His smile was electric.  I noticed the lines of his face, the light stubble,
a dimple on his cheek
.  I could see a resemblance to David – his eyes and nose, the angles of his jaw; but he was shorter and more muscular.  He had a strong, sexy presence.  I’d never though
t
of anyone as sexy
before
.  Boys my age were awkward, not fully grown into their own skin. 
 
I knew that Noah w
as only a year older, but something about him was different and set me on fire.

“I’ve been at your house a lot lately.  I wondered when I would meet you.”

“It’s not my house.” The irritation was plain in his voice.

“Oh, no, well I mean your grandmother’s house.”  I stammered.
  “She’s been teaching me how to cook.  You’re lucky to have a good cook in the family.  My mom and Nan can’t heat a frozen pizza without calling the fire department.”

A laugh, that was good.  Maybe I wasn’t a complete dork.

He asked what I was looking at and I showed him the postcards.  To his credit, he feigned interest for at least 30 seconds.  I felt a little embarrassed to have this outsider observing my secret fascination.  I closed the album and pointed out that Thing 1 was racking the table again.  When he looked away, I moved out from behind the bar and headed for the door.  “Hey wait.” I felt his hand on
my shoulder and it sent a shockwave through me.  I
turned to face Noah and he dropped his hand, to my disappointment.  “My brother said you offered to babysit Jessica sometime.”

“Yeah, of course, anytime.”

“That’s really nice, thank you.” he sort of muttered.

“No problem.” 
A pause.
  “Why… Did you have sometime in mind?”

“No… he never takes a break.  Me?  I’m always taking breaks.  My whole life is a party.”  He gestured to the open space around us.  He was both joking and serious. 

He played another game of pool while I talked about prom and graduation stories in the kitchen, then he was
suddenly
there
next to me
again.  I imagined he was looking for some common ground to join the conversation, but didn’t find any and left.  The next time I saw him, he was making out with the frizzy-haired brunette.  He didn’t seem to notice me.  My mood slumped, but I found myself watching the way he moved, the rhythm of his head and neck with hers and imagined what it felt like. 

Embarrassed again, I walked past to the pool outside where
Kate
and most of the football team and cheerleaders had congregated to drink and swim. 
Kate
offered me a beer from the keg and I hesitated, as always.  This time, though, I decided I might want a beer and I
accepted
.  It tasted terrible, but that seemed appropriate considering how I felt.   Within a few minutes, I felt warm.  I was tall, but thin and lightweight in every sense of the word.  Conversation was sparse out there.  Most of the good old days of high school had been relived. 
S
omeone suggested
playing
spin the bottle – a time honored tradition amongst
lubricated teenagers. 
Kate
wanted to play, but even when I was in a good mood I thought it was a childish game.  She prodded me with “What if I get Noah out here?”  The girl knew me too well. 

“He’s already playing his own game inside.”  I responded acidly.

“That’s not what it looks like to me” she teased.

I followed her eyes to the doorway where Noah stood leaning, looking strikingly like an underwear model with clothes on.  He raised
his drink
to me when our eyes met before gulping it down.  He moved
easily
to set
the glass
on the patio table next to me, then sat the wrong direction on the lounger and faced me.
  I must have appeared startled.

“
Did I scare you?
” He
asked
seriously.  I laughed.

“It takes a lot to scare me.” 
I said. 
He laughed too.

“Is that so?”