Moondance (3 page)

The door squeaked anyway.

Wired and awake, she stepped inside, dropping her briefcase, hopping as she took off her black pumps. Her long legs, which inchildhood had created the awkwardness of being the tallest girl in the class, had long ago turned into her greatest asset. Barefoot, she padded across the hardwood floor. As she walked across the living room, she almost tripped over the cardboard boxes Kevin had packed. Stepping around them, she peeled off her teal jacket, white blouse and black skirt, leaving them where they fell.

She could hear Kevin’s breathing, deep and steady, and felt a pang of regret. She had not expected to be this late. She had singularly screwed up the evening he had planned — again.
Patience
. Tiptoeing over to the bed, she lay down next to his sleeping form, molding her naked body to his.

She had been planning what she’d do to him all the way home in the cab.

Eyes open, her hands roamed over his back, his chest, and he stirred. Her lips moved very slowly, from the nape of his neck, to his shoulders and down his spine to his buttocks. Still half asleep, he was hunched on his side, so she rolled him toward her, pushing aside the covers and taking him into her mouth fully, gently, easing him awake.
This was just the beginning.
A little something to remember me by
. Moaning, his hand moved into her hair, then both hands were under her chin and he moved her head away. He went flaccid.

“No, Al ... okay? No.” For the first time, she not only felt guilt, but a small finger of fear.
Too little too late?
He took her hand, squeezed it weakly, and turned away from her. The rejection sank in.

Spooning him, she listened to Kevin as he slept, and held him
close, her eyes open, going over in her mind what had just happened.
She knew Kevin. He had always loved it when she was spontaneous. She wondered if she should say something.
It wasn’t the time
. She shook off the feeling of doubt.
Get over yourself
. All relationships had their ups and downs.

• • •

7:30 A.M.

Althea sent the email which contained the files for her client’s morning meeting to her printer. Keeping an eye on her InBox for the printer’s confirmation, she made a phone call.

“The freakin’ file’s gone, it’s out of my hands! Even if the printer screws up, I won’t hear about it for an hour or so. So when are you guys leaving?”

Tori Carnahan was still the big sister that Althea never had. With curly brown hair, and flawless olive skin over a small, resilient frame, Tori was one of the smartest, and most disciplined people Althea had ever met. She came from a big-business family and was finishing up her law degree at the University of Montreal. Later this morning, she would be giving Kevin a ride to Kingston on her way back to school.

“At nine, if Kevin’s on time.”

“Give him a break if he isn’t. I woke him up late last night, poor guy.”

“Have you heard anything?”

“I’ve heard from Rotman, I’m in if I want it. Queen’s is taking their sweet time, though with my acceptance at Rotman, I think my chances are good. Rotman wants confirmation soon. I wonder if it would be too presumptuous to decline before I hear from Queen’s? I just hate having my life on hold like this, you know?”

“Don’t rule out Rotman. It’s a good school and it’s always good to have options.”

“Yeah, I know. But I’d rather not do the long-distance relationship thing, especially right now. Kevin and I have had a tough enough time connecting when we’ve been in the same city.”

Tori was silent. Althea had an urge to share what happened last night, what she was really feeling. That for the first time in five years, she was worried about her relationship. She held back. Instead, she said:

“I also have to give notice at work, not to mention the apartment and moving. I’m just exhausted thinking about it. You know what it’s like.”

“True enough.” Tori seemed distracted. Althea could feel her restlessness.

“You feeling okay? You sound tired or something.”

“A bit tired. Ate something that disagreed with me maybe.”

“Sorry we didn’t get together before you left, it’s my fault.”
One more person she had let down. The guilt churned.

“It’s okay. So what are you writing these days?” Tori asked, her voice soft. Even as a little girl, Althea had loved writing. Tori had always been her biggest fan. At least, before she met Kevin.

Althea wrote first in her journal. Then, she wrote long letters to friends. More recently, she wrote the odd short story. After finishing her English degree, she had contemplated writing a novel. Then she got a job at Continuum.

“Nothing for a while. Work’s been nuts.”

“You’re good you know. Don’t forget about it.”

“Thanks for the nag.
Kevin
hasn’t even bugged me about that lately.”
Tell me a story
, Kevin would say, grinning at her. At first, Althea had looked at him, tongue-tied. Until she realized that when she talked, she told stories. When she wrote letters, she told stories. It was part of who she was.

“Well, I’m sure it’s not that he’s forgotten about it — you both have a lot going on.”

“I know. Listen, I just got an email from my printer, I gotta go. I’ll call soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

Althea hung up and thought about their conversation. Tori sounded tired and unfocused, and that wasn’t like her. But it was more than that. She sounded
sad
. She shrugged off the feeling. Tori was the strongest person she knew.

Over the years, Tori had always been there for her. It was Tori who had helped Althea finesse her Masters of Business Administration applications last year, reviewing each draft with a perfectionist’s eye, challenging each statement one by one. Tori helped her get in to the MBA program. Not only that, if it hadn’t been for Tori, she might not have even had the courage to apply.

Althea wanted to call Tori back, ask what’s wrong, but she held off. Tori was intensely private, so she didn’t want to push. She knew that Tori would share when she was ready.

In the meantime, Althea had enough in her own life to worry about.

• • •

ON SATURDAY MORNING, ALTHEA sipped a Starbucks venti low-fat latte on her way to the apartment. It was sunny, and the rows of mature trees and gardens were bursting with late-summer color. Their neighborhood was St. Clair and Avenue Road, in central Toronto. People here lived in luxury condos, rent-control high rises, and houses split into a number of units. Althea and Kevin shared one of these, on the main floor of an aging Victorian.

At their kitchen table, she turned her attention to the mail that had accumulated since Kevin’s departure. Not only was she a stick-in-the-mud, as Kevin often teased, she was also a pack rat. Her eye caught the answering machine’s red light blinking at her.
Crap. Missed him again
.

“Hi, it’s me again. Was thinking we could get together next weekend in Toronto if that works. I won’t be too busy yet. Call my
people
, will you, and let me know. Bye.” On the message, Kevin’s voice was tight. They had been playing telephone tag for days. Her cell was unreliable, on its last legs. At work, she was never at her desk.
My fault, again
. Althea picked up the phone, tried his cell and got voice mail. She sighed heavily, hung up without leaving a message, and turned back toward the monolithic coffee that matched the pile of mail.

Have to let the post office know that I’m moving — that is, if I’m moving
. That was one more thing she had to decide. Her head hurt.
Just as she went to put her head down on the table, she spotted a letter
from Queen’s University. Her heart leapt.

• • •

BARELY ABLE TO CONTAIN her excitement, Althea turned off Highway 401 East, at the Kingston exit, three hours after leaving Toronto. As she approached downtown Kingston, the churning green of Lake Ontario became visible, muted under a grey sky. Despite the clouds, a number of sailboats dotted the bay.

Kingston billed itself as the North American freshwater sailing capital, and was a university town. The first time she and Kevin visited Queen’s University, they had been entranced by Kingston’s old stone houses, open waters, and green spaces. She knew she would love living here. Moving day could not possibly come too soon.

She now viewed moving to Kingston like their final destination at the end of an excruciating marathon. Like a long-distance runner, Althea could see herself falling just as she crossed the finish line.

As she parallel parked, her muffler roared, and the small silver Omni shuddered and stalled. She left the key in the ignition and began strok-ing the steering wheel.

“Okay, here’s the deal. I’ll take you to the
well-used
car doctor, if you behave for the next twenty-four hours. Okay? Is that a deal? Just twenty-four hours.” She turned the key and the engine roared to life.

“Good girl.” She kissed the steering wheel and shifted into park. She had made it: Kevin would be proud.

“I can’t believe you talk to your car,” Kevin had laughed at her, shaking his head.

“She and I, we have a special understanding.”

“You’re nuts.”

“And how many times has she let me down?”

“That’s what’s nuts — I can’t believe it.”

“That’s right, none. And how many times has your car left
you
stranded?”

“At least when I’m driving, I know where I’m going,” Kevin countered.

She smiled, remembering. Kevin was right about that. She was always getting lost.

She began looking for Kevin’s new place. It was one of a series of furnished cottages on the lake, compact and basic, with hardwood floors, and a cement block veranda. All were rented to students. On windy days, the waves lapped up over the veranda and pooled around the foot of a charcoal barbeque. Inside, she remembered a huge front window overlooking the water, and a wood stove.

“You’ll need the stove. It gets cold out here in the winter,” the man who rented the cottages had told them. Despite the warning, Kevin rented the unit immediately.

Althea tried the door to Kevin’s unit. It was locked.
That’s what you get when you don’t call first. So much for spontaneity — again
. Sighing, she peered inside. She could see part of the picture window, and a doorway which led to a narrow galley kitchen. Kevin’s windbreaker was draped over a chair.

After the couple of months they’d had, she really wanted her arrival to be a surprise. She reached for her cell phone, and when she couldn’t find it, had a flash of it recharging on her kitchen counter. Useless.

She decided to explore. Kevin would be back eventually. If he wasn’t home in a couple of hours, she’d find a land line and track him down. In the meantime, she’d plan dinner. Maybe write him a story. Maybe even a sexy story. The way she saw it, since classes hadn’t started yet, they had no reason not to spend most of the evening, and tomorrow in bed.
Finishing last night’s story
.

Instead of taking her car, she decided to walk. Althea loved to walk, especially along the water, and after driving for the last three hours, she felt in need of exercise. She strode by the row of cottages, and turned toward the center of town, trying to recall where she had seen a grocery store. The breeze was a thick breath and the clouds overhead, oppressive. As the clouds opened up and poured their contents down on her, Althea ducked into the entrance of a small gift shop, and was almost knocked down by a frantic, pear-shaped woman brandishing a broom.

“Get out, get out, you filthy beast, out!” The woman shook, her short, round body moving with alarming momentum into the teaming
water outside. A slight young man wearing a wrinkled white shirt stood
behind her with a badminton racquet, his head tilted up, looking down occasionally to make sure he stayed out of the woman’s way. He glanced at Althea.

“We have bats,” he explained, as Althea spotted a black streak coming
at her from the back of the store, dipping close, and then swooping up again. Althea jumped as the man hit the bat with the racquet, knocking it to the floor. He looked at her, as if to apologize.

“Stuns them so we can sweep them out.”

The woman was back with the broom. They’re a tag team, Althea thought, as the woman swept the stunned bat out of her store. Althea followed her, balancing the idea of getting drenched by rain, with getting swarmed by bats. The woman, her hair falling into her
eyes, attacked the newest bat like a champion curler and with a flourish,
swept the stunned creature out into the street, returning inside with a wild whoop.

Outside, the rain was slowing. Althea moved toward the small animal,
which was
squirming on the glistening pavement, its jaws moving soundlessly. As she approached it, the bat locked eyes with her. It continued to struggle, flapping its wings as if positioning for takeoff, bouncing a bit, then stopping as if it had run out of fuel.