Sex and Death in the American Novel (12 page)

“Well, you guys never are.”

He looked to me expectantly.

When I didn't respond he said, “You can't make a comment like that without qualifying it.”

“Well. Okay, straight guys,” I said and grinned in spite of the hard look I tried to give him.

He twisted his head like he was adjusting himself to talk to me, almost annoyance.

“Tristan was always good at excusing pathetic behavior.”

“Like what else?” His face was blank, not giving me the satisfaction of a reaction to my comment.

“My father. Everyone thinks he was so great, but he was never around. And when he finally left us, that was the last time I saw him. He couldn't even make it to the ceremony when Tristan got his big writing degree. How pathetic is that?”

“That's too bad.”

“I wrote him a letter though. I told him what I thought of him for that. It was bad enough that he didn't come to my college graduation either, but Tristan was his first child, his son, and it was something Dad should have cared about, you know?”

He nodded, keeping his gaze level with mine. “Sort of like how you told me off, when your brother couldn't. His advocate. Is that how you see yourself?”

He could have meant this in a cruel way, but his face was soft, and his eyes warm when he asked this.

“I guess so, when you put it that way. It wasn't like he was a wimp or anything, not at all. When I was in school he was the one who gave my dates the stern talks, he looked out for me.”

He moved around and placed his palms on the table as if to center everything.

I broke into a grin, letting him off the hook. “He would be nuts if he saw me with you now.”

“You think so?” he said.

The waitress came with our food and coffees. The scent of grilled meat hit me first, and my stomach hollowed out and grumbled. I picked up my fork before the waitress even placed the plate in front of me. When the buttery sauce from the Eggs Benedict hit my tongue I melted for a few minutes, pausing after three large bites to sip on my coffee. Jasper was equally focused on his steak, working the large serrated knife over the meat, and stabbing bits with his fork and looking at me and smiling.

There seemed to be more going on with him than he was letting on, like he wanted to ask me something important. I was not a stranger to this situation; generally I felt more in control, however.

“Do you go to that club a lot?”

I swallowed. “All the time. Tomorrow Laura K is going to be there.”

He gave a shrug. Anyone else I would have felt the need to rib about being so clueless.

How strange to be with someone I felt I should show a certain level of respect for. Jasper's list of accomplishments was impressive. I was grudgingly curious about him. To begin writing at such a young age took a discipline I couldn't begin to imagine.

“If my mother knew I was with you she would be terrified that I would embarrass her.”

That got a laugh from him.

The waitress cleared the plates and filled our coffee cups and then there was silence.

“So,” he said, leaning over the table.

“So,” I said.

He leaned toward me. “How can I make this right? If it helps you at all to know that even if I have some fame, with that seems to have come this idea that I am superhuman, that I can give everyone who wants to talk to me equal attention…these tours get really draining. I really didn't know your brother was that keen to talk to me, which is to say…if I had known that, I hope that I would have behaved differently.” His eyes were clear and steady.

The noises at the other side of the restaurant became louder, there was that giggle again—was it possible it was somehow directed at me? I felt very small.

I twisted my mouth, first a pout, then adjusted it to a smirk, nothing seemed right. I let my shoulders fall.

“Look,” he said, “I will be here a few more days.”

“Make sure you visit the Space Needle,” I said.

He chuckled, a low soft sound, and then shook his head slowly. “What your brother said about me was right; I went through a period where I wasn't as responsible as I should have been. I have grown up since then, I hope.” He played with the edge of the tablecloth. “I would like to see you again.”

A strange silence fell over the table. The only sounds were distant; bits of conversation from other tables, silverware clinking against plates, another giggle.

Tristan's words slithering around in my head.
What do you want me to do, chase him?

Chapter 6

As with any night when there was a live performance, which didn't happen very often, Neighbours was packed stage to ceiling, with people of every imaginable size, dress and persuasion. Tonight was no exception; everyone wore their finest attire. A woman below wore a bright-orange dress, very short with a loopy strap that wrapped around her neck. Both her arms and legs were amazingly long, a radioactive octopus. All the hotties were out too; Vlad was there with his arms around a tall Asian guy in a silky pink shirt with delicate pearl buttons.

I wore my best for the evening as well. A tiny vest on top showed off my arms, and if I moved sideways or backwards at all my stomach and sides showed. The black fabric was sheer, light enough that I could dance without dripping puddles of sweat.

Eric and I stood up at the top level, leaning over the railing, watching the crowd below. He worked on his second Vodka Cranberry; I stuck to ice water, needing a clear head for the night. I'd been waiting for this event for several months. I buzzed with excitement just to be this close to Laura again; maybe she would dance with me like she had last time. I hoped she wasn't too wiped out after her show.

Laura took the stage after an extra half-hour wait. She wore skin-tight snakeskin pants in black and gray, and a deep-pink halter. Her short platinum hair formed a Mohawk that did not move when she swept across the stage, carrying the microphone, greeting the crowd. This was a special show for Neighbours, her club away from home she called it. Her real work would begin the next night at CenturyLink Event Center.

She began the show with the song that first got her on the radio the year before. The crowd bounced up and down like a mess of colorful pogo sticks.
The place was too packed for any other kind of motion. After three songs, she looked up toward the stage, waved at Eric, then she caught my eye. I froze and she gave me a huge smile and waved for us to come down closer. Eric and I made it down to the front of the stage, pushing past eager hands and arms. I looked up from my place on the floor and she motioned me toward the stairs leading to the stage. My heart pounded, drowned out by the impossible volume of the speakers at that end.

As she moved across the stage, her breasts moved slightly when she took a hopping step to emphasize a certain note. When she spun around I caught sight of the groove at her back, just barely exposed when her top shifted. She had curves in places where everyone else was flat. I could have watched her all night. Her muscular limbs, the way she held the microphone, her lips barely touching it, then the way she pulled back to belt out the end to the last song. She bent forward and hundreds of hands came together to show appreciation amidst whistles and hollers. The lights went down on the stage for a moment, then she came to stand in front of me. “Great to see you sweetie, been way too long if you know what I mean.”

I hugged her, and she held me like that for a minute and pulled back. “I want you to come out with me and dance on stage while I do this next set.”

I stared. “No way!”

She nodded vigorously, then bent over and grabbed a bottle of water. She downed it in three gulps.

I couldn't say no, not to her. Just like the first night I met her, she wove a spell with her eyes, or maybe the draw was her scent. She was the purest form of woman I'd known. Like an animal she moved, and behaved. She was a Goddess and I would do anything she wanted. When the lights came back on, she made slow motions to the guy working the music and shouted to the crowd, “I want you all to give a big round of applause and encouragement to my good friend Vivianna. I found out last year, this one can shake her ass! You all should be taking notes!” She planted a kiss on the side of my head, let me go roughly, then the music was at full volume, pounding through my midsection, and I started to move. The first minute was torturous; too many expectant eyes were focused on me. I looked to the floor and there was Eric, gazing up at me, raising his arms above his head to dance with me from his spot on the floor.

As I always did before I took off, I closed my eyes, forgot about everything except for the way I felt then, the tempo called to me: Freedom, Abandon, Nothing Else Mattered. I felt her behind me, and tipping my head back I could smell the sweat on her skin—she was slick with it, under the lights I was sweating too. Air swept past me in a way it wouldn't have on the floor. Up here on the stage everything was so open. With the hand that wasn't holding the microphone, she ran her hand up my side, my hips
moved beneath her, then she slid her forearm under mine and raised my arm above my head. Whistles and catcalls sounded towards me, good natured, encouraging me to let go.

After several minutes, I could focus on what I was doing, feet skipping forward and back as the up-tempo beat dictated. As it slowed, I planted my feet, letting my hips and movements come from my waist. I watched the crowd, taking in the faces there: Eric smiling up at me, and a big black guy with his arms around himself then moving lower. I found Vlad as well, he and the Asian were like a two-headed monster—one torso, two sets of arms and two heads. They were all moving, all connected by the rhythm and energy.

When Laura copied my movements, I got a smile from her, then added new steps—I turned back to the crowd, held my arms in front of my face, ran them down my throat, the sides of my breasts, my waist. I turned my head and held it for a long beat, then dropped my hands and tipped my head to one side, then the other and let that move into a full spin, and planted my feet. I bent forward and worked my way up, feeling the action in the muscles of my calves and thighs, burning, then release when I popped up and began moving with my feet, strutting in jerky steps across the stage, then back, a few times backwards and forwards. When I stopped at the midpoint of the song, where the rhythm slowed, I tapped my toe on the floor behind me, like I'd learned to do at a stop spot in tango. When the beat picked up, I let the same toe lead me into another spin, once, twice, my arms wrapping around the back of my head, following down my neck, across my torso, then I landed. I straightened my legs and absorbed everything, only moving my top half.

I hadn't had this much fun in my entire life. I smiled toward Laura, she blew a kiss, then ended the act with one of her lesser-known ballads, still upbeat enough to dance to but it slowed me down. She strode over, put her arm around me, while I tried my best to look like I deserved her attention. Scanning the crowd, I landed on the face I'd been looking for all along. There he was, one more face in the crowd, and I held his gaze until Laura pulled me to her, at the end of the song; when the last note hung in the air, she breathed close to my face, and her lips hung just next to mine, and she smiled. Her eyes sparkled, and the way she opened them, wide, that told me that this was just the beginning.

The regular house lights went up and we went to the side of the stage. She said, “I'll catch up with you later sister, I gotta change.”

I nodded, raced over to where Eric stood waiting for me. We both stood there with our mouths open and made little screams in the air and he said, “Oh My God.”

“I know,” I said and we did it all over again. Maybe I should have kept dancing, I could have gone off and done that all night, except I had one more thing to keep my heart thudding, even after I caught my breath.

“That was pretty impressive,” Jasper said from beside me. He looked from me to Eric, and back again, shy.

“Thank you,” I said, giving him a once over, even as Eric pinched my hip, acknowledging what a turn of events this was to have Jasper here. “You came back! You dressed up.”

He wore a black shirt in the same sort of clingy shimmery material that Eric wore, only his shirt looked like it fit better somehow, the lines on it were perfect, and the jeans he wore were so deeply and uniquely colored they became dress pants. No jewelry, as I expected; that was probably a good thing. I guessed there was a very short distance between his abilities to accessorize and his ability to pick out clothes.

Eric stuck out his hand, barely containing a smile. “I didn't get the chance to meet you last night.”

“Right. Jasper,” he said, and they shook hands. “You guys want a drink? I bet you need one,” he said, turning to me.

I nodded, studying his face. Here he looked so much less sure of himself and I was touched that he showed up when it was obvious he was so far out of his element. He even dressed for the occasion. He saw me studying his shirt and pulled it out and held it out for me to feel.

Eric beat me to it. “This is high-class designer. Somebody must have hit the boutique at Nordstrom today.” His voice was playful, but I saw Jasper shrink.

I grabbed Jasper's arm and pulled him off toward the line at the bar.

With our drinks in cold, thick glasses, we stood watching people dance, mostly men, though there were enough women mixed in that at times I forgot where I was. The night was almost back to the barely controlled sexual chaos of any other night, though the air was charged with a higher-than-normal anticipation. A small, dark man took his shirt off in front of one of the mirrored pillars, he began running his hands up and over his chest and arms and brought his fingers up to his mouth. He watched himself, like he was hoping to impress the reflection he saw and went back to his dance, absently stroking himself. Around him couples were in the first stages of feeling each other up, seeing how far they could push it, still more focused on being out and having fun than figuring out who they were going to go home with.

The floor tiles lit up pink, blue, white, and the strobe above flashed down on all of us. Laura said she would find me. I wondered if Jasper would expect to be taken care of all night or if he would indulge me and Laura. When I didn't see her after twenty minutes I decided it was time to dance. I stood, tipped my head toward the crowd and without waiting for Eric or
Jasper, I squeezed through the crowd and warmed up on the floor before trying to tackle the stage. After a few minutes I felt a continued presence behind me, and reached to feel a pair of large hands and a warm, lean form there. I detected a subtle shake when I covered his hands with my own.