These Foolish Things (13 page)

Liz looked at him. She wasn’t prepared to explain her
feelings for him. “Well, I guess. You brought me all the way back to Salem when
you didn’t have to…”

“So you wouldn’t think it might be because I had an ulterior
motive?” Ty interjected. Liz looked at him, startled. He was watching her
intently.

“No, I wouldn’t,” she said flatly. “I’m not the kind of
woman who inspires ulterior motives.”

Ty snorted and mumbled something that sounded like, “Guess
again.” He looked down at his plate for a moment, scowling in thought. Liz
thought he looked a little frustrated, but she had no idea why.

Ty just stared at her. “So you honestly believe I’m here
because of friendship and kindness?” he asked with an edge, “Not for any other
reason?”

Liz’s eyes never left his face as she nodded. “I absolutely
do,” she answered, almost as quietly. “From what I’ve seen, you’re basically a
good, kind man in a cutthroat profession.”

Ty looked down for a minute and whispered something Liz
didn’t quite catch, but almost sounded like “No one’s ever said that to me.”

A thick silence fell for a moment. Neither could look the
other in the eye. Liz decided she had to act fast before it became too awkward.

She waved at the storm still howling outside. “If the
power’s out, it could be a downed line and branches, the street lights aren’t
going to be working and it’s just too dangerous. Here, you’re safe, it’s warm,
we have food…”

“…the place smells like an apple pie,” he interjected. “I
accept. Truth be told,” he said as he cut an egg roll in half and handed part
to Liz, “I was hoping you’d ask. I’d have just gone back to my house and been
by myself. It is rotten out there, we’ve got good food, the music’s great and I
like the company. This is as close as I’ve gotten to a birthday party in years.
Here,” he handed her the mustard, “this’ll clear up your sinuses.”

Liz gingerly dabbed the hot mustard on her egg roll. “What
do you normally do on a Saturday night, Ty?”

He chewed for a moment, “Depends. Usually, I’m entertaining
clients or attending office functions. Other than that, I work at home. How
about you?”

Liz shrugged, “Not much, really. Once a month, the gang
comes over for dinner and a movie. I’ll go to clubs like Scullers if someone’s
playing that I want to hear, but other than that, it’s pretty quiet.”

“Maybe we could go together some night,” Ty offered.

Before she could respond, the radio DJ announced “And we
have a request going out tonight. The gold standard. The one, the only Miss
Etta James performing ‘At Last’.” Liz and Ty glanced at each other. Ty wiped
his lip and stood up.

“Dance with me,” he murmured.

“What?” Liz wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. He
repeated himself.

Liz shook her head. “I’m not much of a dancer, really.”

Ty grabbed her hand and hauled Liz to her feet. “Nonsense.
I’ll have you burning the dance floor in no time. Besides,” he said as he
pulled her close, “you’ll need to know how for the Barrister’s Ball, right?”

“I wasn’t going to go,” she said.

“What? After all the work you’re doing? Why not?” he asked.

“My friends are all paired up and I’m not comfortable being
the odd woman out at those things.” She felt a hollowness in her chest as she
said it.

Ty tilted her face up to look at his. “I’ve never been to
one, either, but I’ll go if you go.” He smiled. “This’ll be the prom you didn’t
have.”

Liz hardly breathed. Ty held her away in formal dance
fashion, one hand at her waist, daylight between their bodies, the other hand
holding hers. Liz put her hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscles underneath.

“Now,” he said, “look me in the eye. Don’t watch our feet.
If you trust me, this’ll work. Unless Beanie trips us again, I promise I won’t
hurt you.”

Liz looked into his eyes as directed and was mesmerized by
the warmth she saw there. She felt his eyes searching hers, for what, she
couldn’t fathom. The urge to lay her head on his shoulder and let him pull her
tight against his body again was enormous, but Liz reminded herself that he
hadn’t invited that intimate touch. They made a small circle around the floor,
exhaled breath mingling, bare feet occasionally brushing each other. Each time,
Liz felt a small shock from the contact and a desire to press a kiss on his
lips. She bit her lip to keep herself in check. The song ended and they stopped
moving, still holding each other. Liz was the first to step away. She was about
to thank him when a particularly vicious blast of lightning struck, deafening
thunder on top of it.

Liz couldn’t tell if she threw herself against Ty or if he
pulled her in, but his arms were wrapped around her tightly. She wound her arms
around his body and pressed her face against his shoulder. He tightened his
hold even more, murmuring wordlessly. She felt him slowly stroke her back. She
began to relax. In a minute, she was able to step away from him. Reluctantly.

“Thank you,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered back. He swallowed and
assumed a light tone, “The advanced course includes a dip, but I don’t think
you’re quite ready for that.”

As he seated himself, Liz thought she caught Ty checking out
her cleavage. She drew back quickly, lest he see too much. She quickly buttoned
her shirt a little higher.

“Liz? Are you cold?” Ty had seen her cover up.

“Maybe a little.”

“Here, more tea will warm you up.” Liz held out her mug.
“Yes, please.” She looked into the mug and made a decision.

“Earlier, when you asked me about being sick, I wasn’t
truthful,” she started, looking into the mug.

“I know,” he replied quietly, “but I understand now why
you’re not very trusting. It’s okay.”

Liz took a deep breath. “When Beanie found me, I had just
had my first chemotherapy treatment.” She looked at Ty. “I had breast cancer.
My HMO wasn’t very good and the surgeon was inexperienced. The surgery scarred
me pretty badly and the HMO wouldn’t cover plastic surgery to repair the damage.”

He was sitting still, staring at her. “Are you okay now?”

Liz nodded. “Clear as a bell, but…” she motioned to her
chest, “nothing Hugh Hefner would want in his magazine. It’s been an issue a
couple of times.”

“An issue? With…?” Ty left the question hanging.

“With dates,” she looked at Ty, almost defiant. “The scars
have ended more than one relationship for me. The man I thought was my boyfriend
bailed when I was diagnosed.” Her expression became bitter, “Real cute. Had
this stupid-ass grin on his face, you know, thought he’d be funny and I’d
forgive him. Said he’d always preferred double-breasted suits and that went for
women, too.” She looked away. “I remember I was thinking about that remark as
the anesthesia began to work.” She shrugged off the memory and continued. “I
found out that I was just ‘convenient.’” She deliberately chose the word and
watched Ty wince. “He had another girl who meant more to him, I guess.

“Afterwards, one date accidentally saw the scar when my
sweater slipped and he left me at the restaurant we’d gone to. It took me until
now to realize that maybe being on my own isn’t so bad. When I was younger, you
know, I’d always seen myself as being married and having a big, happy, noisy
family at this point…”

“You still could, maybe not big, but…” Ty interrupted.

Liz shook her head, “I guess it just wasn’t in the cards.
I’ve had enough pain and rejection in my life. I don’t want to risk any more.”

They sipped their tea until Ty broke the silence again.

“Tell me something,” he asked as he poured out some more,
“Is there something going on between you and your friend DiNardo?”

“No,” Liz shook her head.

Ty set down the teapot, “Was there?”

Liz made a face. “Ew, no.”

“Why?” Ty asked. He was leaning on one elbow as he listened.
Beanie, having devoured both of his ribs, tried to sneak onto the table for
more. Ty pointed a finger at him and Beanie settled himself onto his chair, cleaning
sauce off his face.

Liz laughed. “Joey and Tony DiNardo are the closest thing I
have to brothers. We grew up next door to each other. Their mom taught me how
to cook. I spent my summers and weekends working in their restaurant down in
Hyannis after they moved; the whole family did.” She smiled. “Angie just gets
bent out of shape when I improve on her recipes. Of course, she sticks with the
changes I make.” Liz sipped her tea. Thinking about her adoptive mother always
made her smile.

“At least it’s got you smiling again,” Ty commented, “I was
afraid I was going to have to do a walrus impression with the chopsticks to
make you laugh. I don’t even want to think about splinter risk. Here.” He
handed Liz a fortune cookie. “It’s my birthday, so I chose first.”

Liz broke open her cookie and read it out loud, squinting in
the soft light, “’your destiny lies before you. Choose wisely’.”

“Sounds promising. Let’s see what I got,” said Ty, “Hey, I
got the same one.”

“You did not, let me see,” said Liz.

Ty held out the slip of paper triumphantly. “There. See?” he
said. “Nyah.” Ty stuck out his tongue at her.

Liz giggled as she read the paper slip. Indeed, his fortune
was the same. “Son of a gun,” said Liz, “I wonder what the odds are on that.” Was
this a sign?

“Still hungry?” she asked Ty.

“Maybe,” he said cautiously. Liz rose. She gathered up the
dishes to take into the kitchen and realized that she couldn’t handle them and
a candle. “Want some help?” asked Ty. “I notice you don’t ask for it, even when
you need it.” He was on his feet already, gathering up cartons and candle.
Beanie took a swipe at the now-empty rib box, hoping to make one last big score
before calling it quits. He missed. Liz and Ty went into the kitchen. She
rinsed off dishes and he piled the cartons on the counter. With a smile, Liz
took the empties and put them in the garbage. The ones still containing food
were off-loaded into plastic storage boxes. Liz noticed that Ty didn’t really
seem to know what to do. She took the candle from him and opened the
refrigerator door, quickly slipping leftovers in, removing a small covered dish
and fending off Beanie all at the same time. “Why don’t you start some more tea?”
she suggested to Ty.

He looked at the dish. “What’s that?” he asked as he
refilled the tea kettle.

“Dessert, if you want it,” she answered.

“I do.” He put the kettle on a lit burner. “Who does your
cooking for you?” he asked.

What an odd question. “I do,” said Liz. “What about you?”

Ty shrugged, “I spend most of my time at the office so I eat
out a lot,” he said.

“I see,” she said, “And when you’re home?”

“I have 5 cuisines on speed dial.”

“Cleaning lady?” Liz probed.

“Full-time housekeeper,” he answered. Ty shrugged again.
“I’m not really all that domesticated, I guess.”

“Well, you’re busy. I can see needing the help.” Liz said.

The kettle began to whistle and Ty prepared another pot of
tea. “Hey, at least I can boil water and soak leaves,” he said with a smile.
Liz laughed. They returned to the dining room and seated themselves.

“Okay, Counselor,” Liz said as she uncovered the dish and
scooped out a generous portion. She passed the dish to Ty, who examined it
warily.

“This is my tiramisu,” said Liz. “I was going to take some
into the office on Monday, but with the power being iffy, I’d rather feed it to
someone than have to dump it.”

Ty spooned up a bigger portion. “So this is the stuff you
claim is so much better than the top restaurants in Boston, huh?” He was
digging in with gusto.

“Did I lie?” Liz asked.

Ty looked at her and smiled, “No, by God, yours is better.
This birthday’s getting better.”

Liz grabbed the nearest candle. “Here,” she instructed,
“make a wish and blow it out. I’m not going to sing or YOU’LL end up crying.”

Ty laughed, paused and blew out the candle. He scooped up
another mouthful of tiramisu.

“Want to be my personal chef? Gotta beat the hell out of
being Dan’s ghost writer,” Ty offered.

Liz laughed even harder. “I think I have as much as I can
handle, job-wise, right now. But I’ll tell you what, it’s no fun to make
something special just for myself. I’d be happy to make dinner for you sometime.”

Ty was thoughtful as he mouthed the dessert. “Let’s see, I
taste coffee, brandy, I think, chocolate and something I can’t identify.” He
swallowed. “What’s the secret ingredient?”

She noticed he ignored the dinner offer. “If I told you…”

“It wouldn’t be a secret. I know,” he finished. Ty took
another mouthful. “I love this stuff.”

After they’d cleared dishes and secured the fire, Liz led Ty
upstairs. In the spare room, Liz set down her candle on a night table and Ty
followed suit. The light cast long, flickering shadows over the room and over
an eclectic assortment of items on the bed. “And here we have the loot for the
auction,” Liz announced.

“What’s the charity this year?” Ty asked as he picked up a
framed piece.

“Breast cancer, so this one’s close to my heart,” Liz
replied. “We’re supporting the Bay State Breast Cancer Foundation and I see you
have what I think is the star item in your hand.”

Ty cocked an eyebrow at her. “Really? Looks like a framed
album cover.”

“It is, but do you see all those black squiggly lines?” Liz
asked. Ty nodded. “Aerosmith.”

Ty was clearly impressed. “Really? How’d you do that?”

“Corey used to babysit for either Steven Tyler’s kids or Joe
Perry’s kids. I forget which and I shouldn’t because he brags about it often
enough. Anyway, Steven Tyler was wicked funny. He said that they’d seen plenty
of breasts over the years and it was a pleasure to support them.” Ty laughed so
hard, he almost dropped the cover.