Moonlight and Roses

Publishe
r:
Moonlight
Books

Editor: Katherine Tate

Cover Design: Simon Smith-Wilson

Dedication:

 
To Simon Smith-Wilson

Thank you so much.
Without your
friendship and
support t
his would never have come about
.

To Diana Finegold, Sally Gallagher, Marilyn Lee, Lisa George, Kate Tate,my sons and my muse, Homer the pug 

"A dance in Central Park for single people…how romantic," Linda Davis said, clasping her hands together in front of her bosom.

"Ma..."

"You’re not getting any younger and I want to be a grandma."

"I’m only 27, I'm not over the hill, yet," Caroline responded.

"Check it out, sweetheart. Go, dance in the moonlight.
Find a rich man, m
ake me happy."

Saturday night, Caroline Davis slipped into the new
print
sundress her mother made for her.

“I picked this fabric because
the
cornflower blue in those little flowers matches your eyes exactly.”

“You’re right. The match is uncanny.”

“I
like white on blondes, too,
it sets off your hair, sweetheart,
” Linda put in.

Caroline had always been proud of her
curvy figure, long slim legs
and bright
smile.
Her father said she was a work of art.

Caroline entered
Central Park
with a sigh
and headed for the Sheep Meadow which was aglow with twinkly lights and live music. A warm breeze brushed her cheek
on
her way across the uneven lawn
where she
stumbl
ed
over a rock and
caught
her heel twice in the tall grass. She took a glass of wine off a table covered with a white cloth and wandered through the growing crowd, looking, in vain, for a familiar face among the men and women mingling u
nder the gaze of the full moon.

As she faced South, the breath-taking skyline of New York City dark against the light sky turning pink and purple as sunset arrived demanded her attention. No matter how long she lived there, her artist’s eye would see no two identical skyline scenes; tall gray, black and silver buildings in varying heights outlined against the ever-changing sky. Finding a man as interesting as this City
would be
a challenge.

She had agreed to return to New York
City
to live with her mother, leaving behind her college and graduate school friends in Willow Falls, New York. She missed her friends, but her mother, recovering from a bout with cancer, needed her. But now, Linda was pressuring her to find a man and Caroline wanted to make her mom happy.

If she was honest with herself, Caroline had to admit
she was lonely, too. Her college boyfriend
left her behind when he went to medical school where he met and married another medical student. She scanned the faces at the dance again, hoping to find someone she knew. A tall dark-haired man with brown eyes,
perhaps the right man to alleviate her loneliness
approached her and introduced himself as Cary before he asked her to dance. As the fast song became a slow one, he drew her into his arms, holding her close.

It felt good to be held by him. Caroline closed her eyes and let the warm summer breeze and the woodsy scent of his aftershave wash over her. After the music stopped, the band took a break. Cary plucked two glasses of wine from a waiter’s tray and took Caroline's hand, leading her into a shadowy area of the park. He sat down on the thick grass and gently tugged her down next t
o him then handed her the wine.

Before she knew what he wanted, he was kissing her. At first, the kiss was nice, but then it got too passionate, too urgent. Caroline pulled away.

"Come back, beautiful thing," he murmured, reaching for her.

Caroline moved out of his grasp and shook her head. "I hardly know you."

"What better way to get acquainted?"

"You're kidding, right?"

His eyes glittered in the moonlight and Caroline began to feel
conscious of his eyes on her body, she sifted her weight from foot to foot.

"Why do you think guys come to these crummy things?"

"To meet someone?"

"To get laid," he said.

Caroline got up, brushed off her skirt and tucked her purse under her arm. "Smooth…real smooth."

"Honest, at least."

"Goodnight."

“I knew you weren’t going to put out,” he called after her, pulling up a tuft of grass.

She related her story to her mother as soon as she closed the front door behind her.

"We'll have to find a better place. Some place where the guys have a little class."

"Meaning they still want to get laid but don't tell you in the first five minutes?" Caroline replied.

"Cynic," her mother chided.

****

Linda had fallen in love with Alex in college. He’d spotted her in the
quad and drawn a quick sketch.

She was quite stunning and admired by most of the guys on campus, having been crowned homecoming queen two weeks earlier. Alex, painfully shy, dropped his sketch on the grass in front of her, pretending it was an acciden
t.
Linda picked it up, looked at the sketch and then at Alex. He got flustered, and ended up dropping his sketchpad, pencils and chalks in front
of her, causing her to giggle.

His hand touched hers when she handed him back the sketch pad and their eyes met. His shy smile grew bigger and his blue eyes danced. She was captivated. He invited her to sit for him and published his drawing in the school magazine, which brought her invitations for dates from a dozen guys, much to Alex’s distress. But Linda turned them all down to be with him.

The young artist didn’t have much money but he was loaded with charm and ingenuity. He took her on unusual dates: picnics in the woods, bird watching, late night skinny dipping in an off-campus lake where Linda succumbed to desire, giving him her virginity. They became inseparable. While some of the girls wondered what the beauty queen saw in the shy artist with the uncertain future, Linda knew the sweet man inside who was desperately in love with her.

Graduation came and Linda received her nursing degree. She and Alex eloped, since her parents didn’t approve of her marrying a “starving” artist. They moved to New York City where Linda found work and Alex painted. He continued to do portraits of his adored wife and they lived on love in a tiny apartment.

****

“So, no teaching jobs?” Linda asked Caroline.

She shook her head.

“I found something.”

Sunny looked at her mother and cocked an eyebrow.

“Look here. A listing of the charity functions, dinners…dances,” Linda pointed out.

“You think we should be recipients of charity?”

“A perfect place to socialize, mingle with the rich.”

Caroline grabbed the paper and read the listings. “Five hundred dollars a ticket! Where would we get that kind of money to toss away on a dinner?”

“Some are less. Here’s one that’s only $150 a plate. We can squeeze out $300. I’ve put a little bit aside. Kind of like a dowry, since you will be getting married someday.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Mom. Prince Charming isn’t exactly beating down my door.”

“Not yet, but he will. Look at you, Caroline. You’re beautiful. We’re going. I’ll go with you so you don’t have to worry about being shy.”

“Pin a sign on my back, ‘Daughter for Sale’,” Caroline said, refilling her coffee.

“Hush! What a terrible thing to say. Is it a crime for a mother to want her daughter…well fixed?”

“It depends, Mom…”

“I’m going to the fabric store today. You need a suitable dress,” Linda said, folding up the newspaper.

“I’m late for work,” her daughter said, looking at her watch.

“Perhaps it won’t be long before you leave your job at Macy’s behind for a life of luxury,
my dear,” Linda said, giving her a kiss.

“Keep dreamin’, Mom
, She said with an exasperated sigh.

****

After a few years of struggling, it became apparent to both Linda and Alex that
he
would have to take a job. Their lack of money put a strain on their life together. He found a job teaching for a few years and the couple’s deep love continued to flame. But, when city funding for school arts programs dried up, Alex was out of a job. He worked at a procession of unfulfilling jobs, mostly in sales, which he hated but worked at anyway, desperate to keep his homecoming queen happy and well fed.

While work days were stressful, nights were passionate. Linda’s respect for Alex’s talent grew as he continued to create. Sometimes he would paint or draw into the wee hours of the morning on weekends. Artwork filled their house, hung on
walls and in stacks in closets.

Desperate to make money from his artwork, Alex and Linda attended every gallery showing and opening they could. After six months, Alex got his turn. One painting in one gallery made them hopeful. It sold and the gallery requested more of his work.

It wasn’t long before Alex’s work was hanging in a few galleries in Soho and Greenwich Village. But sales were bumpy. Some weeks he would sell a painting or two, then four weeks would go by with nothing. The extra money was always needed as Alex kept losing jobs or quitting because he couldn’t force himself into the regular work mold. Linda dreaded those days when she came home to find him sitting with a glass of wine, staring out the window. He was always sorry but it d
idn’t help.