Letters From The Ledge (33 page)

“Well Kate graduated from PA!” I offered with a grin. She kicked me under the table.

“No kidding!” David leaned forward and they ascended into their own little version of dancer’s heaven, leaving Finn and I sitting there, staring at one another.

“Can I get you another?” He was staring at my empty glass. As soon as I looked at him I knew I’d lose my cool if I had another and we ended up alone together, but at the moment I didn’t really care.

I stared at him through eyes that were already having a little trouble staying focused. “You bet.”

“Well aren’t you a brave one.”

“And what is it you’re drinking over there? Water?”

“Vodka. And I’ll join you in a second round if you don’t mind.”

I smiled. “I think I’d mind if you didn’t.”

He was gone in a flash and David followed his lead after getting Kate’s order. As soon as David was out of sight Kate was right in my face. “What the hell are you drinking?” She picked up my glass and sniffed it. “Oh, no you don’t. What are you, crazy? You never order that crap anymore. Don’t you remember the last time you drank that poison?”

“Of course I do.” I could tell I had a dumb smile on my face already. Kate looked over at the bar. Finn and David were talking to Finn’s father. “He is fine. I’ll give you that.”

As I was watching he looked over at me. Neither of us smiled or made any overt gestures, yet our faces entered into an entire conversation. He just stared and I couldn’t break my gaze loose. It was mesmerizing. I couldn’t figure out if he was playing me or if I’d somehow entered a parallel universe. Maybe he was right. Maybe he would need to be ensconced in some brilliant narrative some day.

The two of them walked back toward us with drinks in hand and I suddenly realized that if I didn’t get up and move a bit I’d be sorry when it came time to drink that second
round. Before Finn reached the booth I slid out and took the two glasses from his hands, setting them down on the table behind me.

I grabbed his hands. They were both cold. He must drink his vodka chilled. “Do you dance?”

“Not if I can help it, but I’m willing to embarrass myself if you are.”

I pulled him toward the dance floor. “Who said I was going to embarrass myself?”

Before we could weave our way through the crowd the song slowed down and I looked back, eyeing him suspiciously while scanning the room for the DJ’s box. “Did you do that?”

He smiled smugly. “Do what?” In one fluid motion he dropped one of my hands and wrapped his securely around my waist, spinning me toward him until we were face to face. His hand was warm again, surprisingly warm, and I was thankful for whoever dimmed lights on the dance floor, certain that my cheeks now matched my shirt quite perfectly.

The way he moved me with him felt like I was an extension of his arms, his legs. He couldn’t have known that I too had danced most of my life, but if this was foreshadowing, I was in for an awfully long fall.

It’s important to note here that I wasn’t looking for a relationship. At that moment I can honestly say it was pretty darn close to the farthest thing from my mind. Kate was right. The last time I had Cachaca I’d ended the night with a guy that turned out to be the biggest mistake of my life. Fast-forward two years, including the nine months I spent in therapy, and I was just getting my life back on track. I didn’t need a distraction, but then again, I’d forgotten what it felt like to be held by someone who wanted to match his rhythm with mine.

The idea was tempting. The guy was quicksand.

I pulled out of his arms and took a deep breath. I knew I needed to tell him that this wasn’t right, but when I looked up at him he wrapped his hands around my jaw and gently pulled me into his mouth. The falling commenced then, as he released one of his hands to pull my hips back toward his. We moved along with the music and my body ignited, sending sparks in all directions. This was not good. I hadn’t even touched that second drink.

I struggled to resurface. It was an epic battle for control, one that I hadn’t seen the likes of in…well, I’m not sure I’ve ever had to fight that hard for control. It always came fairly easily to me–part of the hardwiring that happens when you live like me. Finn sensed the hesitation, and stepped back, studying my face. “Let me guess. You want to get out of here.”

I looked up, genuinely surprised. He’d obviously misread my struggle. “Well
that’s
a little presumptuous.”

He shook his head as if I were clearly mistaken. “No, I mean maybe you’d like to get some air.”

I’d assumed his presumption and guessed wrong–something else that hardly ever happened. This guy was unraveling my nerves and I couldn’t get my bearings. It was like he’d grabbed onto the one snagged thread in my sweater and it sent me spinning.

He didn’t wait for my answer, but took my hand and led me up a stairway, under a roped entryway guarded by another of the Mt. Olympians and through another door that opened onto a small rooftop atrium. There was just en ough room for a couple of chairs and a small table. A dim, yellow-covered globe fixture above the doorway cast a soft light onto the small space. It was cozy. Private. Exactly what I needed. But, how did
he
know that?

Finn squeezed my hand gently. “No one will bother you out here. Stay as long as you like.”

I was obviously at a loss for words. He turned to leave but thought better of it. Taking off his blazer he draped it around my shoulders. I felt like a small child and must have looked the part, because he smiled down indulgently and then he was gone.

The door closed behind him and I blew out a deep breath, dropping into one of the chairs. What the hell was I doing? I wrapped his jacket tightly around my shoulders and tried to sort through the events of the evening. All of my usual arguments crumbled in the face of reality. The guy seemed too good to be true. Maybe
that
was it…he wasn’t real.

Or maybe, just maybe, he was the measuring stick against which my life felt pale and drawn. Sure, I had a system. What I didn’t have was a clue how deep this rabbit hole might go. That I was, in the space of a few hours, suddenly willing to follow him down it was absolutely terrifying.

When I was a kid I used to love picking up sticks and trying to draw in the dirt or sand. If I was on the sidewalk or near a driveway, I would hunt for the kind of rocks that would crumble like chalk as I pushed them around on the hard surface. I colored with crayons and painted with those little orange watercolor trays in coloring books with flimsy pages that warped with the drying.

Then I discovered words and started drawing my pictures in story form. I ‘drew’ my way through long hot summers, stormy cold winters and every argument my parents ever had. My therapist said there’s some kind of connection in the brain between coloring and healing from trauma, so she gave me a ‘big-people’ coloring book and some watercolor pencils. I happen to find it fascinating that what my little-kid brain knew intuitively has now been proven out by science: Drawing heals. So there I was, twenty-five years old. Coloring. Drawing with words. I had always been the one doing the drawing. Now I was being drawn. 

I don’t know how long I sat there on the roof, but when Finn found me I had my legs pulled up, completely wrapped in that blazer, staring out into space.

“When I said you should stay as long as you like I didn’t mean until you turned into a Popsicle.”

I looked up at him and smiled weakly. “Sorry. Have I been out here long?”

“Come on. Let’s get you warm.”

He pulled me inside and through another secret door that led to a comfortable office with a couch, a pillow and a blanket.

“Do you want your blazer back?”

He smiled, shaking his head. “No, not until you’re back to room temperature.”

I sat down on the couch. The warmth was nice but I was still shivering. He grabbed the blanket and held it up behind me. “May I?”

I nodded, and he wrapped the blanket around me
and
the blazer until we were one big lump, then pulled the lump toward him as he leaned back onto the couch. I tucked in my feet and let myself sink in.

“Thanks.”

“Well what kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you freeze out there? Besides, we should probably be getting back to Kate and David before they send out a search party.”

I nodded in agreement. “Were you waiting in here the whole time?”

He looked up at the desk. “I had a little work to catch up on.”

“So, this is your office?”

“Yes.”

“And the pillow and blanket? It doesn’t double as your apartment, does it?”

“No, but on the particularly late nights sometimes I don’t feel like going home.”

I looked over at the desk. A strange sort of organized chaos, he could have definitely benefitted from some of my articles.

“Are you alright then?” He looked down his chin at me and I didn’t know how to answer.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re quite the debater aren’t you? I thought you said you never lose these arguments?”

“Yes well, apparently
hardly ever
might have been more accurate. I haven’t lost one in quite a long time.”

“I don’t know whether to be offended or flattered.” He grinned.

This was getting out of hand. I sat up, breaking out of my cocoon and then stood, handing him back his blazer. “Who said the argument was about you?”

He stood up too but dropped the blazer back onto the couch and took my face in his hands again. When he pulled away from my mouth I was having a little trouble standing on my own volition. The music was thumping somewhere in the distance, and when I opened my eyes, his were smiling into them. He reached his face into my ear and whispered, “You did” then kissed my neck.

I shuddered involuntarily and for the first time in a long time I was rendered speechless.  Luckily he didn’t notice. At least, I don’t think he did.

Finn picked up his jacket and slipped it back on. “Shall we go find David and Kate then?”

I tried to swallow, my mouth searching for that second drink. “Yeah. Definitely.”

We walked out into the heat of the haze and I had to readjust my thinking. Kate and David were on the dance floor just below us and she caught my eye as I headed down the steps. Whispering something to David, the two of them made a beeline straight for us. She immediately grabbed my hands and pulled me with her, apologizing to Finn on her way by.

We pushed our way through the mob toward one of the bathrooms and as soon as we were inside Kate locked the door behind her. She was all kinds of wobbly, and slurring badly.

“Hey…so… you, weren’t supposed to disappear like that.” Her fingernail was dangerously close to my eyelid.

I pulled my head back slightly. “Hey, so…how many Kamikazes have you had Kate?”

“
Me?!
You’re the one drinking poison, not me!” She stumbled back against the stall door.

“I’ve had one drink Kate, and that was a while ago. I’m perfectly fine. You, on the other hand, are almost ready for bed.”

“I know, right? Is it that obvious? I
really
like him. That boy can
move
!”

“David?”

“Yes, David! Who did you think I was talking about?”

I ignored her question. It was late, and I was suddenly in no mood. The two debaters in my head had caused a bloody war that was threatening its way toward my heart, and there was no way that was happening. Not on a first date. Not again.

“Kate I have to go.”

“What?! You can’t leave! And where were you anyway? Did you
sleep
with him?”

“No, of course not! I was gone, like–five minutes.”

Kate blinked her eyes at me. “I may be ahead of you on the drinks but you’ve been gone for at least an hour.”

I pulled out my phone. She was right, of course. I’d left her alone with a new guy for longer than thirty minutes, which was a breach of our standard agreement, so she had a right to be mad. But I just couldn’t stay.

“He got to you, didn’t he?” Kate was straightening her shirt and tucking herself up in preparation for reentry.

“Kate, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Look at me.” She pulled at my face. “
Look
at me!”

I can bullshit the whole world except for Kate. When I finally looked at her she smiled sadly. “Ok. Let’s get you out of here.”

“What about David?”

“I’ll give him my number. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?”

“I didn’t think it was his heart you were after.” I winked at her and she turned to let us out of the bathroom.

“It’s not. But with any luck a little hard-to-get will make his other parts grow fonder too.” I laughed and she stopped with the door half open. “So what are we going to tell them?”

“How about the truth?”

“Oh man. This is worse than I thought!" Kate laughed. "Why don't you let me do the talking?”

“Maybe because you’re slurring?”

“I am not!”

“Right. Whatever you say.”

We made our way back to the table and found the two of them sitting there much like they looked when we’d gotten into the cab earlier. Not really expectant, just kind of mellow and almost…natural. It was so surreal, like the four of us had been performing this routing together for years. I think that’s the part that threw me the hardest–the total lack of expectation that bordered on apathy. Neither one of them seemed in a hurry to jump in the sack, and that could only mean one of two things: either they were getting plenty, and it really didn’t matter to them, or… it really didn’t matter to them. I was banking on the former, because the latter seemed utterly ridiculous.

As soon as we got to the table the music slowed down again and David pulled Kate toward the dance floor. Her protests were quickly hushed by something he whispered in her ear. So much for her doing the talking.

“Nice timing. Your handiwork again?” I nodded upward, referring to the change in tempo.

Finn just shook his head and stared at me. He patted the spot next to him in the booth and said simply “Why don’t we sit this one out?” He never took his eyes off me.

My heart dropped into the pit of my stomach and strange tears threatened at the corners of my eyes. If I cried it would be over. I fought for control. He seemed to know instinctively that I wanted to leave, but he didn’t say a word. He just waited for me to talk.

“Finn, I…”

He sighed and looked down at the table. “…Appreciate the drink but really have to get going?” He was fiddling with his glass, waiting for my reply. When I couldn’t form the words he looked up. “It’s written all over your face. You’re terrified.”

I swallowed hard.

“What I don’t understand is, what have I done wrong? I thought we were having a nice time?”

“You don’t understand.”

“Oh I understand. I understand more than you think I do.”

I felt the color creep up my neck. “I just wasn’t expecting...this. I wasn’t ready for this. I’m not–ready for this.” I sounded like an idiot and I knew it.

Finn put his elbows up on the table and leaned in close, looking right through me. “Look, it wasn’t like I tossed my drink all over your shirt on purpose, but something happened here tonight and I don’t think we can ignore that. I don’t think I
want
to ignore it. Now if you do, then I’ll be the gentleman and step away, but I think you’re making a big mistake.”

He was dangerously close to kissing me again. I watched his eyes travel there and back, but he kept his distance steady. “I’d like to see you again.” He slid a business card toward me. “But it’s going to have to be your call.”

He’d had the card ready when I got there. How could he have known that I was going to– I just sat there blinking. The watered down Caipirinha was still sitting there. I looked down at the glass. “I don’t suppose you’ve slipped a roofie in there and I’ll wake up tomorrow with no memory of the next few hours?”