Every Other Saturday (29 page)

A warm glow spread in her chest as Dave’s intense dark eyes implored her to believe him, to accept his view of her. “You’re quite a painter yourself,” she said quietly, glancing at the seafoam-sage living room.

His ears went pink, but he didn’t drop her gaze. The air seemed to crackle between them, until a centerpiece at the end of the table suddenly decided it was top-heavy and fell over. They both laughed.

Resuming his seat, Dave spun the dreidel expertly between thumb and forefinger, and it skidded along the table before coming to a stop near her hand.

“It landed on Hay,” she said. “You get half.”

“You know me better than that,” he said. “I’m an all-or-nothing kind of guy.”

The Hanukkah Carnival was half-festival, half-cocktail party. There were family activities in the early evening until 7:30, when the teenagers gathered up the younger kids and led them to the basement classrooms for movies and games. After that, it was a cash bar and dance floor for the adults in the social hall. The PTA made two-thirds of its money at the Hanukkah Carnival, because parents had come to expect being charged at every turn: raffle tickets, games, babysitting passes, and of course, the auction.

When the kids were shuttled downstairs for the evening, and the wave of adults who’d chosen to leave their little ones at home began to arrive, Julia found herself next to the long auction tables in the lobby. Dave and Debbie were by the door, greeting the arriving guests, their honor-slash-duty as co-chairs of the event. Dave’s friend Aaron was here somewhere, too, but he seemed to be working hard to be as inconspicuous as possible. Dave had brought his J-Date for the evening, too.

Good luck with all that
. Julia smoothed her dress. She’d gone shopping with Caroline earlier in the week and allowed herself to be talked into a floor-length black mermaid dress with coppery sequins in vertical lines up the bodice. And, to Julia’s dismay, a plunging back that showed off her tattoos and quite a bit of her fair skin in a way that made her a little nervous.

“I say go for it,” Caroline had said. “It’s my treat, but only if you buy this amazing dress because I will be heartbroken if you don’t.”

“But the tattoos—it’s a Jewish preschool…”

“It’s Mia’s last year. It’s your last year. Go out on a bang, I say. Besides, I know several Jews with tattoos. Incidentally, that would be a great band name. Jews with Tattoos.”

They had both laughed, Julia watching the dress shimmer in the mirror as she moved. It
was
pretty. And it was so rare for the two of them to be together, and for Caroline to be feeling so generous and funny. Julia hadn’t wanted to break the spell by refusing her.

“Anyway,” Caroline had said, handing her credit card to the clerk. “This shows off your back and covers all your…problem areas.”

Julia ran a hand along the soft black tablecloth nearest to her. Several long tables full of prizes, bid sheets, dreidels, and confetti were arranged in a sparkling maze all over the lobby to draw the most traffic. There was even a small one between the restroom doors—a stroke of genius on Debbie’s part, Julia had to admit. In fact, thanks in large part to Debbie’s cajoling, the auction was full of the best prizes Julia had seen in all her years at the school.

Adam and Christy walked in, both looking annoyed and flustered. He caught Julia’s eye and walked purposefully toward her, dragging Christy such that she had to keep one hand on her red lace mini-dress to stay covered.

This didn’t bode well.

“Hello, Adam. Christy. You both look nice.”

“Hey, Jules. You look—” Adam stopped and surveyed her. “Great, actually.”

Julia smiled at his apparent surprise.

“Hi,” Christy said grudgingly. She had little rainbow-colored Stars of David painted on her nails.

“Sorry to do this here.” Adam gave his girlfriend a significant look. “But Christy has something she needs to say and I thought it should be in person.”

Christy took a deep breath and spoke in a monotone that sounded almost bored. “I owe you an apology. I am the one who has been mailing the child support payments late.”

Her words hit Julia like a bucket of icy water. She’d been hoping her hatred of Christy was unfounded; she had hoped to be wrong.

“Wha—why?” Julia stammered, fists clenched at her sides.

Christy shrugged. “I didn’t think you needed it, owning the store and all. Adam kept saying we couldn’t get married and buy our own house until you bought him out of the store, so I thought if you felt…pressure, I guess…”

Adam put a hand on her arm. “Let’s not share our private business. We still have some things to discuss.”

“But you’re the one making me apologize,” she whined.

“Yeah, Adam,” Julia said pointedly. “You’re the one making
her
apologize.”

“Okay.” He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender that Julia had come to think of as quintessentially Jewish, and quintessentially Adam. “I’m sorry, too. I should have listened to you, Jules, and known you weren’t exaggerating. I promise the payments will be on time from now on, even if I have to hand deliver them.”

“Thank you. Does this mean you’re not forcing me out of the store?”

Adam sighed. “Don’t use that word. I don’t want to
force
anything. But we’re both under financial strain and...”

“Let’s not talk about it here,” Julia interrupted. “Can we just agree to have lunch and talk about it?
Alone
?”

Catching the implication, Christy huffed, “Can we go? You said all I had to do was apologize. I want to get to the bar before there’s a line.”

Before Adam could respond, Christy was off in the direction of the bar and the colored lights of the social hall. He watched her, mouth hanging open in annoyed disbelief. Waves of anger continued to hit Julia as she thought about the hardship Christy had caused her family. But she had to admit, the annoyed look on Adam’s face mitigated her anger somewhat.

“See you later, Jules,” he said through gritted teeth, and sped after his girlfriend. Julia wondered how much longer Christy would hold that particular title, now that Adam was seeing who he’d chosen. This thought brought her surprisingly little satisfaction.

Adam was the father of her children, and she would always care about him. But she was relieved to realize that all her passion for Adam was gone: she no longer wanted him, and perhaps the flip side of the same coin, she no longer had the energy to hate him. She could still hate Christy for a little while, though. Better not to do all her growing at once.

“Waiting for the Rolling Stones?”

A familiar deep voice, close to her ear, warm hand on her bare back. Her anger evaporated, replaced by something electric. Julia shuddered, and turned. Dave wore a soft gray suit, with a vest instead of a jacket, and a royal blue tie in a Windsor knot.

“You look great,” she said stupidly. He looked
amazing
.

“Thanks. You too.” He grinned. “Oh! Julia, I wanted to introduce my date, Sandy.”

Finally, her stunned brain noticed the pretty woman next to him with long, curly red hair and a simple black dress. She’d stood a little back, but now he steered her forward with a hand on her back.

“What? I mean, hi, I’m Julia.”

She extended her hand to the woman, who shook it with a big smile. Big, obnoxiously endearing smile. “Lovely event you’ve put on here.”

“Thanks. Though Dave gets some credit, too.” Julia touched his elbow.

He dismissed this, glancing around. “You didn’t bring your date?”

“You mean…Sean?” Never in a million years would she have brought Sean to this thing. She tried to answer his question and simultaneously remember what she’d told Dave about her one date. “No, I don’t have a…I mean, he’s working tonight…but we’re not…”

Dave shrugged and took Sandy’s hand. “We were going to road test the dance floor, unless you need me to do anything out here?”

“We’re fine.” Julia shook her head. “Have fun.”

He gave her a wry smile. “I’ll make sure the centerpieces are still perfect.”

“Terrific. Nice to meet you, Sandy.”

The woman flashed Julia a gracious smile and turned to the social hall. Was it her imagination, or was Sandy annoyingly pretty? For one thing, she seemed like a normal person. Not a hint of deranged, fame-hungry, or conceited.

As they passed her, Dave leaned close to Julia, his hand disconnecting temporarily from Sandy’s. “You look incredible, Mia Mendel’s Mom,” he said, voice husky.

He didn’t look back, but she could still feel the vibration on her ear as the two of them went into the social hall. She wondered how long before she could go home and bury her face in a bowl of mocha fudge ice cream.

# # #

He led Sandy out to the dance floor, where several tipsy parents were already embarrassing themselves to Justin Timberlake’s “Suit and Tie.” A photographer circled the room, getting dozens of candid shots they would be able to download and regret later—all for the benefit of the school.

Because this was, as she’d put it, Sandy’s penance, he decided to throw her into the deep end and see whether she could swim. He spun her in circles and danced all the goofy dances Debbie had hated. Sandy just smiled, her long, curly red hair bouncing behind her. They sidled up next to Max and Lianne and traded partners; Sandy rolled with it gracefully, laughing with Max and whispering in his ear like they were old friends. Dave had to admit, she was a hard woman to rattle.

He tried anyway.

“So,” Dave said, when Max had returned Sandy to him with a twirl and a shit-eating grin, “your profile says you like sports.”

Sandy’s light smile remained unchanged as he led her into a slow song. “I’m sure I couldn’t compete with you, but...”

“Favorite team?” he asked.

“In a particular sport, or just my favorite team in general?”

“In general,” Dave said. “And don’t let the fact that I will be judging our entire date on your answer to this question make you nervous.”

“No pressure,” she said. “Well, it’s a trick question but I’ll answer it.”

“How so?”

“I’ve read your blog for years. You’re a hometown guy, and you consistently commit to Atlanta teams, except UGA, but that’s close enough.”

“What’s tricky about that?”

“I’m a hockey girl, which means I can’t be a hometown fan, because even during the ten minutes we had the Thrashers, I just couldn’t make the switch.”

“Don’t tell me. You’re a Rangers fan.”

“Worse. Red Wings.”

Dave threw his head back in exaggerated injury. “You’re killing me, Natasha. Red Wings fans are the worst.”

“I know,” she said, with gleeful pride. “Everyone has a dark side. That’s mine.”

“Don’t tell me you’re a Lions fan, too.”

“Nope. I cheer for the other Atlanta teams, generally.” She turned gracefully beneath his outstretched hand before returning to face him. “But I have to be honest, nothing makes me insane like hockey.”

“Is it bad that I find that incredibly sexy?” Dave said.

As though conjured by his words, Julia came into view behind Sandy. She stood in the doorway to the social hall, her long mermaid-style dress exaggerating her curves. With smoky eye makeup and dark red lipstick, her hair pulled back in a tight bun, she was 1940s Hollywood sexy. All she needed were some long black gloves and one of those huge cigarettes. She caught his stare and gave him a little wave.

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” Sandy said.

He still held her hand and waist, but Dave hadn’t realized he had stopped dancing entirely. “Who, Julia?” He shrugged. “I never really thought about it.”
Except pretty much every day since August.

Someone called Julia’s name and she turned, so the plunging back of her dress faced them. The intricate rose and the Cheshire Cat highlighted the soft pale curve of her back, but Dave’s eye was drawn lower, to the spot where the black fabric pooled on Julia’s round ass, like a curtain against her lower spine. He would have thought the fact that he’d seen what was under that dress would make him less intrigued by it but somehow it had the opposite effect.

“I admire her courage,” Sandy said, and he forced his gaze back to her. “I love tattoos on other people, but I could never bring myself to get one. I guess my Jewish upbringing is too ingrained, you know? I’d be afraid my dad would find out and quote Leviticus to me for the rest of my life.”

“My parents hate them, too. When I was younger, I used to tease them about it. I mean, we don’t do ritual animal sacrifices anymore, either. Ease up.”

“Right? My dad eats cheeseburgers when he’s away from my mom.”

“There you go.” Dave dipped her gently backward, marveling at how pliant she was in his arms. Refreshing to be with a woman who followed his lead for once. “You could rebel completely and get a tattoo of a pork chop or something.”

She laughed and righted herself to face him. “Nah. I’ve always been a good girl. More or less.”

The music slowed and they swayed together, a few first-date inches between them. “So are you going to tell me?” Dave finally asked.

“Tell you what?”

“Why you stood me up.”

Sandy looked immediately at her toes, painted crimson and poking out from glittering black heels. She nodded. “You deserve an explanation, and I wish I had a better one. I completely panicked.”

“Why? Because of the blog?” He felt the old irritation rising. “I was totally upfront about that in my profile. You’d already signed the waiver.”

“I know. It was stupid.” She looked miserable. “I wasn’t even on J-Date originally, but a friend of mine heard you on the radio and thought it would be fun. I haven’t dated much lately—at all, really—since my son Gabe came along. She thought going out with you would be…a jump start.”

“No kidding,” he said flatly.

“To be honest, I wasn’t taking it all that seriously. It was an experience I was going to make myself have. Like bungee jumping or skydiving.”

“Done either of those?”

A shy smile crossed her features. “Both, actually. I was younger and braver then. Before Gabe.”

“Totally get that.”

“So an hour or two before our date, I thought I should read your most recent blog to get ready. You’d gone out with Esmeralda the week before.”

Dave stopped to recall. Esmeralda was Rivka Nussbaum, Date Six, a Peace Corps alum who ran a clean water charity from her parents’ basement. “Wait, that can’t have scared you off. I was super nice about her and even plugged her charity on the blog. She got a huge surge in donations.”

She nodded. “I know. It just made me realize the caliber of women who were participating in the experiment.”

Dave snorted, thinking of Emily and his Halloween date, Amber.

“Obviously, there were some
later
that were less intimidating.” Sandy grinned. “But at the time…and you’ve blogged enough about your ex over the years that I can tell she’s a force to be reckoned with, and there’s your friend Diana, whoever that is.”

“You just met her.” Dave looked at Julia, who was talking with Matthew Goldman across the room.

“Oh! That makes sense.” Sandy glanced over her shoulder. She bit her lip. “Anyway, I suddenly freaked out, thinking you were going to rip me apart for being shallow and boring. I don’t even have a hobby. I told my babysitter I was sick, but I couldn’t bring myself to lie to you. At first I couldn’t face it at all, and then I was too embarrassed, and then it was too late.”

Dave spun her in a little circle as the final strains of the song echoed in the hall. “Not too late, as it turns out. And so far, you are anything but boring.”

“Do you think I have an outside chance, then?”

He smiled. “Except for the Red Wings thing. That might be a deal-breaker.”

“Completely unfair,” Sandy teased. “I watched your video on deal-breakers and you made no mention of hockey loyalties. You can’t start adding requirements now.”

“Fair enough.” The next song started. “Buy you a free drink?”

“Actually, I’m going to sneak off to the ladies’. Would you get me a white wine?”

Dave made his way to the bar in the corner, where Debbie, Aaron, Max, and Lianne were standing in a cluster, talking and laughing. Just like old times.

He got Sandy’s wine and a beer for himself and headed for the open spot between Aaron and Lianne, who’d obviously had a couple of cocktails already and leaned on Max’s arm.

“Hi, Dave!” she said brightly as he approached. He kissed her cheek; he shook both Max and Aaron’s hands before leaning across the little circle to kiss Debbie’s cheek as well.

“Is this awkward?” Lianne asked Max in an unquiet, tipsy stage whisper. “Or have they all hung out together before?”

“It’s a little awkward
now
,” Dave whispered at her, just as loudly. “But I think we’ll be okay.”

They all laughed and Max patted Lianne’s arm affectionately.

Aaron nudged Dave’s shoulder lightly with his own; they exchanged a bemused look. Perhaps a fragile seedling of friendship was reemerging from the rocky soil. “Your date tonight is cute,” Aaron said.

At the other end of the social hall, Sandy was returning from the restroom. “She is,” Dave agreed. “Funny, too. I think she may actually be January material.”

“Good to know there will be some competition.” Aaron raised an eyebrow at Debbie, who was now listening to their conversation. “But I’m keeping my money where it is.”

“So you guys are betting with each other on my love life now? I can’t count the layers of screwed up in that cake.”

Debbie took a sip of her cocktail, unsmiling. “I’m reserving my bet until the end of the year,” she said to Aaron. “But if she keeps wearing
that,
you could very well win.”

Dave followed his ex-wife’s gaze and found she looked, not at Sandy, but at Julia Mendel—standing alone and beautiful with red wine in a clear plastic tumbler.