Improvisation Page 5

  “I might be more convinced if you weren’t frowning so hard,” Tina joked, trying to coax Jan back into the playful mood she had been in earlier. When her laughter had instantaneously erased the seriousness of her expression. Jan looked like she was carrying the weight of her world alone, and Tina had at first assumed she was naturally gloomy and humorless. But the burst of laughter had been spontaneous and genuine—a sure sign there was passion and fun under her stuffy exterior. What problems sat so heavily on her? Tina reached out and gently traced the crease between Jan’s brows. She meant to distract herself from wondering about Jan’s personal life, but the soft brush of Jan’s bangs against her finger made her snatch her hand back.

  “My dad is sick, and I might need to move so he can be near the right VA hospital,” Jan said without thinking. She faltered to a halt. Why was she telling Tina this? One brief, meaningless touch and she was pouring out her secrets? Chloe had stopped her little French lesson and was watching her. Jan hadn’t shared this much with her, and she had known Chloe for two years. Jan shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner. “I’ll be able to find another job, of course, and I’m lucky to have started my teaching career at a school like this one.”

  “The school is lucky to have a teacher like you,” Chloe said quietly, bumping Jan with her shoulder. She raised her voice to a normal level. “Jan’s students love her, too. And she’s the advisor for the GLBTQ group. She’s been a great advocate for them, and there’ll be several same-sex couples at the prom.”

  Jan could feel her face heat when everyone at the table turned their attention on her. She was proud of her efforts to help the students not only feel safe, but feel included at school. Her own high school wouldn’t have been so accepting, but it hadn’t been an issue for her since her dad had been transferred to a different base, in a different country, toward the end of her senior year. She hadn’t cared about missing the prom, but she had hated leaving Claire, her first girlfriend, after only one short month together. She hadn’t done much dating since then. She didn’t want to fall in love again until she could be sure she wouldn’t be wrested away.

  “It shouldn’t be such a big deal to go to a silly dance, gay or straight,” she said. She wanted to push the focus off her, and Tina seemed to be a good target. “You went to school in Seattle, didn’t you, Tina? Could you be out there?”

  Tina shrugged and stared at the empty glass in her hands. “Actually, I have no idea. I didn’t date in high school, let alone go to the prom.”

  “Don’t tell me a knockout like you couldn’t get a date,” Chloe said in a teasing voice.

  “My mom was very sick from her chemo treatments during most of my senior year. I barely managed to graduate, let alone do any extracurricular activities.”

  Jan felt a sudden, ridiculous urge to reach for Tina, understanding completely how it felt to be caretaker for an ailing parent, but she stopped herself. Instead, Peter covered Tina’s hand. Tina seemed to accept the contact for a brief moment, and then she pulled away.

  “I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “I didn’t know. But it’s never too late. Jan and I are chaperones, so we were planning to go together, but I told her it would mean a lot to the kids if she went with a date.” She paused, and then smiled brightly. “Hey, the two of you should go as a couple.”

  Jan, shocked, started to reason her way out of this mess. “There is no way—”

  “Are you fucking insane?” Tina interrupted, rising out of the casual, slouched pose she had been in all evening.

  “Wonderful,” Peter said, more loudly than either Jan or Tina. “It’s settled. And if you’ll allow me to escort you, Chloe, we can make it a double date.”

  The conversation dwindled after Peter’s pronouncement, but he and Chloe made a valiant effort to keep everyone talking. Jan was caught between stunned disbelief at their suggestion and a crazy desire to laugh at the expression on Tina’s face. She looked disgusted, as if she’d been drafted to swim across a sewage plant, not go to a dance. Jan decided she herself might have opted for the first if she had a choice. All she’d wanted was to get through the evening as quickly and impersonally as possible. A reluctant prom date hadn’t been part of the plan. She searched wildly for a way to back out, but she had to go to the dance. For her kids. Tina would have to be the one to make an escape, and Jan figured she’d be so practiced at breaking dates it would be easy for her. She probably had a thousand handy excuses at the ready.

  “Worst safety net ever,” Jan whispered to Chloe when Peter and Tina went to the bar for another round.

  Chloe smiled. “It seemed like the best way to get him to ask me out.”

  Jan glanced at the two cousins who seemed to be having a similar conversation at the bar. “So you used me?” she asked, shocked by Chloe’s manipulation. She hadn’t gotten close to Chloe over the years they’d been teaching together, and she had simply thought of her as a very nice, but sort of bland person. She was definitely more interesting—albeit annoying—than Jan had expected.

  “Well, you used me first, to be your third wheel. I’m just better at the game than you are,” Chloe said, looking decidedly unrepentant. She laughed and bumped Jan again. “Besides, it’s obvious one of you will find a way to get out of going. But I’ll still have my date, so everyone wins.”

  Jan didn’t quite see how she had won anything, but she stayed silent. In fact, she was out a date to the dance since she had planned on hanging out with Chloe for the evening. She supposed she’d end up going to the prom with the predatory Sasha. Ah well, worse things had happened.

  Tina interrupted her musings when she set a drink in front of her. Jan thanked her and bit back an urge to ask how much she owed for it. She didn’t want it to seem like a date, but she also didn’t want to make a prudish fuss about money. “Why don’t I order us some appetizers?” she asked instead.

  “I should warn you,” Tina said, once they had been served. She leaned toward Jan over their shared plate of tempura vegetables, glaring at Chloe and Peter, who had retreated to their corner of the table, as isolated as if a wall had been erected between the two couples. “If they start feeding each other, I’m going to throw up on the table.”

  “I’ll probably join you,” Jan said with a shrug, eating a crispy fried spear of broccoli rabe. “I have to apologize. I had no idea Chloe was such a flirt.”

  “Yeah, but it’s my cousin’s parody of Casanova that makes me want to puke.”

  “I agree. You know, they’re as bad as Brooke. It’s one thing to want a relationship for yourself, but to force innocent bystanders into them, too? It’s not right.”

  “I agree,” Tina said, looking surprised by the revelation. “Do your own disgusting flirting. But leave those of us who aren’t interested in any serious commitments alone.”

  “Well,” Jan said with a frown as she ate some cauliflower. “I wouldn’t say I don’t want a partner. But I’m waiting for the right time, and the right person.”

  Tina shrugged and spilt the last fried zucchini in half, giving one piece to Jan. “Not me. I’m not interested in being tied down. Ever. To anyone.”

  Jan ate the zucchini in silence. She was tempted to say something about Tina’s dating habits, but it would only send them circling back to the earlier, insult-filled portion of the evening. They agreed they wanted to be left alone. She should accept the slight bit of camaraderie and leave the rest. Take her own advice, and let Tina make her own choices. Temporary and insubstantial as they were.

  “So. Geometry,” Tina said, wiping her greasy fingers on a burgundy cloth napkin. “What a thrilling subject. I vaguely remember something about pi from my high-school class.”

  “Actually, it’s quite fascinating, especially when you get past the basics,” Jan said, unperturbed by Tina’s dismissal of her field as uninteresting. She was used to the attitude—in fact, she faced it square on at the beginning of every semester. “There are some interesting studies being conducted about the connections between
geometric forms and music.”

  “Really?” Tina asked. “I’ve heard of mathematical principles associated with Bach’s works, but I never got how numbers and shapes had anything to do with music.”

  “Hey, Chloe,” Jan called across the divided table. “Do you have a pencil? And something to write on. Thanks.” She turned Chloe’s shopping list over and started to sketch. “So let’s start with a simple scale.”

  “In what key?” Tina asked. Jan waved her hand vaguely.

  “I don’t know. Pick one,” she said. “It’s not important.”

  Tina coughed as she choked on a sip of her whiskey. “Not important? Are you kidding?”

  *

  “Hey, Jan.” Chloe interrupted the heated discussion Jan and Tina were having about atonal music.

  “What?” Jan asked, holding the pencil out of reach as Tina tried to grab it.

  “I should get going. It’s getting kind of late.”

  “Really?” Tina asked, sounding as surprised as Jan was when she checked her watch. She and Tina had been talking for over two hours.

  “Oh, sorry,” Jan said, gathering her coat and getting up. “I didn’t realize. I need to get home to check on Dad. Well, this was fun.”

  “It was,” Tina agreed, standing up and shaking her hand quickly. “We should try not to do it again sometime.”

  Her tone was teasing, though, and Jan laughed as she put on her coat and said good-bye. Peter had gallantly, and annoyingly, offered to walk them to the car, and Jan expected Tina would take this opportunity to go after one of the single women in the bar. Instead, Jan watched her head straight to the elevators without a backward glance. The plan to have two neutral people there as buffers had failed, but they had managed to get through the evening with only limited insults and with no public scenes. Brooke would just have to be satisfied with small victories.

  Chapter Five

  Jan was halfway across the hotel lobby when she spotted Tina curled up in an oversized leather chair, a book on her lap and a paper coffee cup on the table next to her. Jan barely recognized her—she looked so different from the slick, sexy woman of the night before. No less sexy, of course, but her beige sweater looked moth-devoured and her jeans were faded, with frayed seams along her calves and thighs. She wasn’t reading but was watching Jan walk toward her, an unreadable expression on her face.

  The chairs were placed in square-shaped groupings of four. Jan sat in the one next to Tina and sighed as she nestled into its depths and felt herself relax. She had left her house to give her dad some time to himself after she’d spent the morning following him around and overreacting every time he seemed remotely confused. They were both going to need time to adjust to the situation, and she needed to learn how to help him without taking away his dignity. So she had come in search of Tina, but she wasn’t sure how to ask for help. She looked around the lobby while Tina continued to watch her in silence. The arch-ceilinged room was inlayed and adorned to the hilt. Where the ornate carpet ended, marble tiles began. A fountain with a statue of cupid decorated the center of the room, its bowl filled with large flowers.

  “We have our year-end student award ceremony in one of the ballrooms upstairs,” Jan said, gesturing toward the balcony. “I’ve always loved this place. It’s a bit gaudier than my usual style, but it works here.”

  Tina hesitated a moment before speaking. “We stayed here every time we came to see my dad’s parents,” she said, staring up at a chandelier. “Mom and I would sit down here, and she’d tell me stories about what the hotel was like when she used to come here when she was young.”

  Jan watched Tina’s expression soften as she talked, and she wondered, briefly, what was in the coffee cup that was making her seem so open and friendly. She figured it was simply the effect of memories, drawn close to the surface by the nostalgia of the place.

  “She said there were gold birdcages hanging in the arches, and each one had a colored parakeet in it. And there were bellmen who wore burgundy uniforms with gold braid and little boxy hats, and sometimes one of them would take out a parakeet and have it sing for her. And up there”—Tina pointed to the center balustrade, but Jan didn’t follow the gesture. She couldn’t take her eyes off Tina, but she could see the room transformed through the two generations of stories—“there was a glass case with a stuffed polar bear inside. I used to have dreams about that bear coming to get me, and I’d ride on his back to the Arctic.”

  “And now you’re back.”

  Tina returned to the present, her voice taking on an edgy quality. “Now I’m back. And I’m still waiting for that damned bear to rescue me.”

  “You don’t seem surprised to see me here.”

  “I figured you wouldn’t be able to resist my charms for long,” Tina said with a laugh. “Plus, I knew you’d get in touch with me sooner or later about backing out of the whole prom thing.”

  “You’re right about the second one, at least,” Jan said. She might have some trouble with the first, but she would manage to resist. She had to. Life was shaky enough without adding an unsettling, temporary affair to the mix. “But it’s not why I’m here. I’ve come to offer you a place to live while you’re in town.”

  Tina stared at Jan while she decided how to respond. Move in with Jan? No way. But for a very brief moment she wanted to say okay and drag Jan out the door. She could come back for her things later. “A couple days ago you sounded afraid to meet me alone in my hotel’s lobby, but now you’re asking me to move in with you? I must have been extra charming last night.”

  “Not with me,” Jan said, enunciating each word clearly, as if she wanted to leave no doubt in Tina’s mind about her intentions. “And, trust me, you weren’t even moderately charming. But my dad hurt his shoulder, so he’ll be staying with me for a few weeks, at least. He said you could use his apartment. It’s only a fifteen-minute drive from your cousin’s place, so you’d have an easy commute.”

  Tina felt a wave of relief at the suggestion. The prospect of searching for housing had been unpleasant, and she didn’t know what she’d have to settle for since she wasn’t signing a long-term lease. “Wow, that’d be great. I’ll pay rent, of course.”

  “Well, instead of rent, I was hoping you might do a favor for me. And for my dad.”

  Tina watched Jan shift in her chair, and she looked like she was chewing the inside of her lip. Tina wondered if this had something to do with her dad’s sickness Jan had mentioned the night before, when she’d shown similar signs of tension and worry. Tina leaned forward and gave Jan’s knee an awkward squeeze. “Hey, what is it? What do you need?”

  Instead of reassuring Jan, Tina’s gesture seemed to upset her more. Her eyes reddened as if she was about to cry, and Tina had the sinking feeling she was about to say yes to any favor Jan asked. But only because Brooke and Andy would expect her to help, of course.

  “My dad might have early onset Alzheimer’s. His symptoms are still slight, and very manageable, but his doctor made a few suggestions about keeping his mind active. He said things like looking at pictures or listening to familiar music would help keep his memories intact longer.”

  Tina let her hand rest gently on Jan’s knee again. Jan would have to watch her father slowly forget the life they’d shared. Tina remembered the deep loneliness she’d felt after losing her mother. But she had never doubted that her mom remembered and cherished their time together.

  “How can I help?” Tina asked. I’ll do anything, she meant. This time, she didn’t even try to pretend she was only helping the friend of a friend. Still, it was only common decency, and hardly personal, to feel compassion for someone in Jan’s situation.

  Jan sniffed and rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes. “I’ve seen some of the sites you’ve created, for your quartet and for Brooke’s catering business, and I admire the way you blend images and music. Dad has tons of pictures and old records in the apartment. I thought maybe you could make a slide show on a DVD with some of his favorite
songs, or something like that.”

  “Smart idea. Combining visual and auditory triggers ought to help his memory,” Tina said, her mind racing ahead of the conversation and into the planning phase of the project and how she would connect the images. Not simply chronologically, she decided, but she’d have to find unique thematic threads, so the slide show would be more interesting. And therefore more memorable. “I’ll do it.”

  “Thank you,” Jan said. Tina saw some of the tension in Jan’s jaw release as she smiled with apparent relief. Tina understood all too well what it was like to be alone and caring for an ill parent. She would help Jan in this small way, but she’d be glad not to have a share in any future responsibility. She wasn’t going to play caretaker again for anyone, sick or healthy.

  Jan held out a printed sheet of paper and a single key on a blue-and-red Gonzaga key chain. “Here are directions to the apartment. I already cleared out some space in the closet and the top drawers of Dad’s dresser for you. I have parent-teacher conferences the first part of the week, so I’ll give you a chance to get settled. Maybe I could come over Thursday evening and show you the photos?”

  Apparently Jan had assumed she’d say yes. Tina felt her breath constrict slightly as if a chain were being tightened around her. She recognized her typical response to a new, unwanted obligation. She took a deep breath and let the sensation pass before she reached out and accepted the apartment key. “I’ll be there,” she said.

  *

  Tina checked out of the Davenport Monday morning and drove the now-familiar route to Peter’s nursery. She hated to leave the huge bed with its pillowy mattress and spotless white linens, the amazing shower, the memories of her parents. She shouldn’t have shared so much personal information with Jan, but she hadn’t been able to stop the words from flowing out. She had been in the lobby, while her mocha grew cold and her book sat unread, missing her parents and fiddling absently with the gold brooch she had pinned on her sweater. Bought for her in the hotel’s gift shop by her mom, it was shaped like a treble clef and had a small ruby set in the curl. It had seemed impossibly grown-up and fancy to a child of eight, and Tina had treasured the gift. Even more as she grew older, since her dad had died shortly after what was to be their last trip to Spokane. For a moment, the Davenport of her mother’s childhood had seemed more tangible than the present-day hotel, and she could see the bellmen and birdcages, hear the twittering song of the parakeets. When Jan had sat beside her, the old stories had simply needed to be shared.