HANDLE WITH CARE (The Ludzecky Sisters Book 5) (4 page)

“You had cancer.”

It was the last thing she expected. She hated when people discovered this about her. From then on, they looked at her differently. She didn’t care about appearances, but when they were awkward with her, she remembered too much about those times.

As calmly as she could, she
said, “How did you know?”

“Some things you said. I saw the women exiting class. And the notice on the board said
we
in it.”

She’d done that intentionally, so other women would be cued to the fact that she knew what she was talking about. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as so insightful.”

He stiffened. And she realized what she’d implied.

“I’m so sorry. That came out wrong. I’m rattled.”

His face softened. “Actually, the whole thing rattled me.”

“Why?”

People began to come in and she saw Joni, the teacher for the next class, was up.

“There’s another session in here now.”

He seemed disappointed. “Oh. Okay. Hey, do you want to get coffee or tea with me? There’s bound to be a place open at nine at night.”

She swallowed hard. “Um, yes, I’d like to. Let me get
my things.”

“I’ll put the props away.” He stood. “Then I’ll wait in the outer area.”

When she returned with her purse and light coat, she found him staring at his phone. “Damn, I can’t find any place open for coffee real close. There are bars, but I wanted some quiet to talk to you.”

It wasn’t wise, she knew it, but she said, “I have a better idea.” She crossed to a door off to the
side. “Let’s go.”

The minute Max walked into her home on the second floor of the studio, he felt calm. Some scent he couldn’t name floated in the air. Stars shone through the skylight above the living room. A fireplace in one corner, gray carpet and white furniture completed the small area.

“This is a great place,” he said.

“It suits me. Most people think it’s small.”

“You don’t need much space, I’d guess.”

“And you need a lot.”

“My house has big rooms.” Again he scanned the area. “Do you rent from the owner?”

“Max, I own the studio.”

“Huh! How did I miss that?”

“No matter. Would you like caffeine or decaf coffee?” She smiled. “I also have wine.”

“I’m surprised you drink alcohol.”

“Only wine, though I shared a beer once in a while
with Paulie before I went gluten-free.”

His jaw tensed. “A boyfriend?”

“No, my sister. Paulina.”

“I don’t have any sisters. Three brothers. All of us are big lugs.”

“I’ve got six sisters.”

He could feel his brows shoot up. “You gotta be kidding me. How can you stand it?”

“I’d ask how your mother could stand raising four boys.”

He laughed at himself. “I have no idea.
She’s special.” More than most people knew.

When Sofia left the room, he studied the furniture. A high bookshelf sported a small Buddha and some mementos which probably were special to her. He glanced from side to side. On a table behind the couch were some photos. A few pillows scattered throughout for color. A coffee table with a few magazines on it. All the wood was light oak.

“Here
you go. I hope you like red.”

“I do.” He accepted the glass. “Thanks.”

She took a seat on the couch and he dropped down next to her. It wasn’t that the white microfiber furniture was too small. It was just too small for him.

“You seem uncomfortable.”

“The couch is less roomy than mine.”

“No, I mean about the fact that I had cancer.”

“I’m affected by it.”

“Why?

His heartbeat sped up, as if he’d run some sprints. “Because it’s a horrible thing to have happened to you. Because you must have suffered.” He gazed at her hair. “You lost so much.”

“Thank you for caring. But I don’t like to talk about it.”

“Why?”

“Because after people find out, they treat me differently.”

“Are they mean to you?”

“No, sometimes just the opposite. Or they tiptoe
around me. It took me forever for my family to stop treating me like spun glass. They still do when I go for checkups.”

“I can understand that.” He let himself think back. “My mother was sick when we were younger, and we all treated her like a china doll. She hated it.” He took a bead on her. “There’s more to it for you, though, isn’t there?”

She drew in a heavy breath and let it out slowly.
“All right, I’ll tell you. But then no more talk of cancer. When people act strangely around me, it brings that whole time back. It comes in waves, drowning me in the pain and sadness of that time. It’s all I can do to meditate it away.”

Calmly, gently, he reached out and squeezed her arm. “I’m sorry. We’ll change the subject.”

Acutely aware of him now, like people got when they shared
a confidence, Sofia shifted in her seat. “Tell me about what it was like being one of four boys growing up.”

“We’re all close in age. I’m the oldest. Deeks, aka Deacon, is thirty-three, Ronny’s thirty-one and Jess is just turning thirty.”

“Are they all athletes?”

“Of course. Our daddy loved sports and we learned to from him.”

“Married, single, gay?”

“One is married. Two single,
one with a fiancé. Don’t think any of us is gay, but I could check.”

That made her laugh. “What do they do?”

“Deeks is a computer genius, Jess is a teacher like me, and Ronny works with my dad in his painting business. I help out with the company in the summer and weekends when they’re swamped. He put a brush in our hands when we turned five, and the rest is history.” He motioned to the
room. “I like this, by the way. The gray carpet, white walls, blue accents.”

“You have an eye for color.”

He winked. “I have an eye for a lot of things. Take the braid out of your hair.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve been thinking about you losing all that hair because of what we’re not talking about, and I’d like to see it down.”

“Maybe.” She felt coy all of a sudden. “When we get to
know each other better.”

“Are we? Going to get to know each other better?”

She knew she could sidestep the issue. That he was totally not her type, but she gave him a genuine smile. “I’d like to be friends.”

“Then tell me about six blondes in one house.”

She giggled like a girl. “We all have long hair like mine.”

“You’re killin’ me, babe. Just killin’ me.”

Max watched her from across another beautiful oak table. “So if you eat eggs, you’re not that other thing—I can’t remember what it’s called.”

“I’m vegetarian, not vegan.”

“No meat.”

“Or fish or chicken. Though once, when I went to India to study, the yogi at the ashram told me I needed to eat some meat. I was thinner then and probably anemic. I did, by the way.”

“Sensible.”
He took the last bite of his cheese-and-broccoli omelet, then pushed the plate away. “Terrific food, and that gluten-free toast was great.”

“I like to cook, and store things in the freezer when I do.”

He glanced at the clock. Holy hell, it was midnight. “Geez, I gotta get up in six hours.”

“Oh, wow. I forgot school starts so early. You can leave and I’ll clean up.”

“My mother would
kill me.”

“Mum’s the word.”

“All right, if you insist.”

She walked him to the door. Opened it and he went out. Once in the corridor, he turned to her. “I enjoyed tonight, Sofia. Very much.”

“You’ve gotten much better at yoga.”

He stepped closer. Her eyes widened. “That’s not what I meant. I liked getting to know you, hearing about your life.”

“Same here. We grew up so differently.”

Because he was drawn to her, he leaned forward and tipped her chin. She seemed startled, and for a minute, he wondered if it was only him that felt something arc between them. “Am I invading your space, Sofia?”

She nodded.

He could see in her eyes that it wasn’t a bad thing.

“You haven’t moved. So I guess it’s okay if I…” He moved in. “Do this…”

“We’re pretty different, Max.
It’s probably not wise.”

“Is that a no?”

She gave him a wry look. “A warning.”

“Consider it heeded.” He lowered his head, holding back big-time. He brushed his lips across hers, back and forth, back and forth. He managed to draw away before their tongues got into the act. It took her a few seconds to open her eyes.

She just looked at him.

He looked at her.

“`night, pretty
lady,” he said somewhat unevenly.

“G—” She cleared her throat. “Good night, Max.”

His steps light, he trundled downstairs. And whistled on the entire drive home.

Often, the Ludzecky sisters got together on Wednesday morning for yoga and breakfast. Sofia had offered a class today, but only Elizabeita showed up. Which was fine because Lizzie rarely got to spend time with the sister closest in age to her. During their practice together, Sofia seemed happy and healthy, with her hair piled up on her head, a pink shirt that
gave her color. Elizabeita had been ten when Sofia had been diagnosed with leukemia, but every detail was burned in her unconscious mind so, of course, she worried about Sofia.

“God, yoga felt great,” Elizabeita said over breakfast at Ham and Eggs, a diner in Queens. “I need more exercise.”

Sofia sipped her tea. “You walk around the city, right?”

“Yeah. But this is more fun. Besides
it seems more like a
real
workout.”

“How is the city?”

“My favorite place. It’s cool living in Mags’s condo. Honestly, that girl doesn’t have a selfish bone in her body. Contrary to
moi
.”

Reaching out, Sofia took her hand where it sat on the table. “Honey, you don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re not selfish. What about that art class you teach for underprivileged kids at the
center near the Met?”

“I’m indulging my own passion for art.”

“I wish you wouldn’t belittle what you do.”

“Let’s change the subject.”

“Okay, what about the men in your life?

“None right now.”

“What happened to that guy, Mark?”

Christ, Lizzie, you scared me to death on the ski slope. Have you no sense?

“He didn’t like my adventurousness. Which is funny because we
met at a racing speedway.”

“You race cars?”

“Sometimes. It’s safe enough.”

“It couldn’t possibly be. Why would you take the risk?”

Why, indeed? “Cautiousness because of fear is not living.”

Sofia stared over the table. “I’m still trying to figure you out, kid.”

“Ha! I’m still trying to figure me out, too.” Not! Elizabeita hadn’t let any of her sisters know her for very
good reasons. And she wasn’t going to start with Sofia, one of the best people she knew.

“So, how’d the yoga thing with the jock turn out? Did he finally give up and admit you were right?”

“No, but I’m still working on him. He’s coming to classes.”

There was something about her tone. “You sound as if you like him?”

“I’m getting to. He’s a nice guy.” She got a dreamy expression
in her eyes. “I might pursue something with him, but we’re so different.”

“Pursue it? Like in a relationship? With a jock?”

“I know. You’re thinking of Damien.”

“He dumped you when he found out you were sick.”

“Yeah, but honey, that was years ago. I wasn’t scarred by it. Not really.”

“You’ve got to be careful, Sof. You’re still…I don’t know. Fragile. Or innocent I guess.”

“I’m six years older than you.”

“In age, maybe. But I don’t think you should be hooking up with jocks.”

“I’m not hooking up with a jock.” But Sofia’s face flushed.

“Oh, my God. What’d you do with him?”

“A little kiss, that was all.”

“Oh, fuck!”

“Stop. Now, let’s change the subject or you’ll drive me crazy.”

Since Elizabeita had showered back at the studio, dressed
for work in tailored tan pants and put on a white blouse with them, she left right from breakfast. She kissed Sofia good-bye and headed to the subway station. It wasn’t long before she stood in front of one of the greatest buildings in the world: The Metropolitan Museum of Art. In many ways, this place, this profession had saved her. Every time she came to work, she was grateful for it.

o0o

On Friday night, Sofia stood in the high school gym, strewn with blue crepe-paper streamers hanging from the ceiling and big palm-tree cutouts lining the sides. It was cute.

“Here you go. Not exactly the wine I would have bought you at dinner.”

As she accepted the punch, she smiled at Gus. “I told you, no big deal. You couldn’t help it that your colleague’s kid got sick and you had
to fill in for him.”

“I know. But to corral you into chaperoning was selfish.”

“Nah, I’ll enjoy it. Plus this dance is a super idea.”

“The upperclassmen think this is stupid, but many of them got to go south on spring break a few weeks ago, and these kids didn’t.”

“Whose idea was the dance?”

“One of the English teachers.”

“Like I said, I think it’s super. What time will
the kids get here?”

“Right about now.”

As if on cue, several came through the door. The guys had suits on and tugged at the collars as if they weren’t used to them. The girls, in pretty spring dresses, appeared a bit shy.

Another chaperone came up to them. “Hey, Gus, we need an adult at the door. Just so kids know we’re here.”

“That’s me.” He turned to Sofia. “Sorry.”

“Don’t
worry about it.” She nodded to the front of the room. “The band is about to play. I’ll just enjoy the music.”

A song filled the air, one from Sofia’s era. It took her back to her time here and the proms she went to, though then, they were off campus.

Her foot began to tap. The next tune was an easy one, and her head moved from side to side as did her shoulders. This was fun. Clean, wholesome
fun and she was glad to be a part of it.

After a minute, she caught sight of someone coming through the entrance.