Sleeping Beauty (13 page)

What was that about? I demanded when Charley and Chester had settled their differences.

A claw to the pectoral, thats what. It stung.

Not that. Whatever was going on between you and my friend Darla. Shazam! Wow! Whee! That stuff.

I make eye contact with a woman and you turn into Sherlock Holmes.

That wasnt eye contact, Charley, it was a mind-meld.

You need more sleep, Suze, youre imagining things.

For once I was sure that what was going on had nothing to do with my sleep deprivation, but I wasnt going to get any more out of Charley right now. Besides, I had Dr. Pillow in my kitchen and I was ignoring him. Bad form. Very bad form.

David was patiently waiting in the kitchen, his hands around a freshly poured mug of coffee and a suspicious eye on Darla, who was madly primping in the reflection of the toaster.

He raised one eyebrow when he saw Charley behind me but otherwise appeared unfazed by the dog and pony, er, rathercat and clownshow being played out in my house.

If it hadnt been for David, the next few minutes might have been some of the longest of my life. He was the one who kept the conversation going while I brewed more coffee and tried to pretend that Darlas and Charleys brains hadnt frozen.

When Darla regained consciousness and realized that she needed to get back to work, Charley found an excuse to leave the house at the same time. I walked them to the door, and hoped that Darla wouldnt get a glimpse of the jalopy he drives. Hes painted it with theater scenesShakespeare, Coward and even Andrew Lloyd Webberbut instead of painting human beings into the parts, he populated the stage with dogs and cats. Theres a Persian kitten doing a soliloquy from Hamlet , a Doberman wearing the Phantom of the Operas mask and cape, and a portrait of King Lear that looks suspiciously like his royal highness was part schnauzer.

I loped back to the kitchen and flung myself into a chair. Welcome to my surreal life.

Your waking hours do have the quality of a dream state, David acknowledged. No wonder you cant tell when youre awake and when you are asleep.

Is that your professional diagnosis?

No, just an observation. By the way, were there a lot of pheromones floating around this room just a few minutes ago?

Dont ask me to explain why. Darla and Charley are as unlikely a pair as exists. Darla, for all her fluffy looks, has a mind like a steel trap. Shes as adept with numbers as she is with the English language. Her favorite class in college was calculus. Charley, on the other hand, was one of those theater people who dressed in black, could quote entire acts of plays, direct Oklahoma! but forget where he parked his car. How could a relationship like that flourish? They dont speak the same language. Could they trust each other when their worlds are so disparate?

When are you going to trust me, Suze? David swirled the dregs of his coffee in the bottom of the mug and studied me with those disconcerting eyes of his. Hes a bewildering combination of suave sophisticate in his appearance, extraordinary competence in his professional life and down-to-earth boyish practicality in his appeal. The portions are in just the right balance too. Hes a very difficult package to resist.

Ive known a lot of wonderful men, some of whom even asked me to marry them, but Ive never really allowed myself to fall in love, not fully, not unconditionally. I suppose its because Ive never felt quite whole myself. In a sense, Im damaged goods. What man wants to wake up in the middle of the night with me trying to put his shoes on or humming reveille at 3:00 a.m.?

Id had this conversation with Darla not long ago.

My sister Mickey has always told me she thinks Im more interesting asleep than awake, Id told her. She means it as a joke, of course, but Ive taken it to heart.

You shouldnt let one persons flippant comment affect you so much. Darla had looked perturbed. Thats just mean of your sister.

Oh, it wasnt just one person. My grandmothers sister, my aunt Minnie, told me, What man is going to want a woman like you, Suze? Youd be far too much trouble.

At the time, that had really stung.

Logically I know I should ignore Aunt Minnie. Shes known in the family for having the sensitivity of a camels hide, the tact of a railroad spike, the diplomacy of a nuclear weapon and the compassion of a pack of wolves going in for the kill. Shes the one who is too much trouble. She was engaged twelve times and is still single to this day, in her eighties. Twelve times her suitors ran off before the wedding, just after Minnie began to show her true self and the double-bladed sharpness of her tongue. That should tell me something. Still, her words hurt and, worse yet, they had stayed with me, just under the surface, appearing only when I thought it might be safe to fall in love.

Apparently Im screwy when Im awake as well as asleep, Id concluded. It wasnt David that I didnt trustthe man is a poster boy for integrity and competenceI didnt trust me.

Its complicated, David.

I find complicated to be far more interesting than banal and predictable.

He reached out and touched my hand. It was suddenly very clear that it was not just as a sleep specialist adviser that he wanted to be trusted.

How had that happened so rapidly? Of course, it had happened just as quickly for me. I could fall in love with this guy, head over heels and throw caution to the winds. But what would happen when we both came to our senses? When I accidentally pushed him out a window on the honeymoon, for example?

We need to talk, Suze. Im sure its perfectly clear that I have two agendas. One is to find you a neurologist who can help you. The second is that I want to get to know you better. Im not your doctor and I dont want to be. Maybe I want something more.

My knees began to tingle, a sure sign that I was excited. When others get a tingling feeling all over, I get it in my knees. More proof my circuitry is all botched up.

Get a babysitter for tonight. Let me take you out for dinner. Well talk, get to know each other. The twins will be fine for a few hours.

The twins! I glanced at the clock. I hadnt heard from them since theyd lain down for their naps. A bad feeling settled in my stomach, the place I most feel fear.

I forgot all about them! I pushed away from the table and stood up.

Theyre asleep. David looked puzzled. Wouldnt you have heard them if theyd gotten up?

Oh, David, you are so naive. So pathetically, innocently naive. And totally inexperienced in the ways of the Terror Twins. With that, I shot off for the boys bedroom. David was close behind.

It is absolutely amazing how much destruction can be done by round-tipped, blunt edged childs scissors and a box of crayons when in the hands of two masters.

The boys had retrievedfrom the top shelf of the bedroom closetthe plastic shoe box of craft items I keep there for them. We often make birthday cards for family members so the boys can proudly present their own offerings when a celebration is taking place. Theres nothing in the box that can hurt themthe finger paints are nontoxic as is the glitter glue and markers. Its what the things in the box could do to the rest of the room that horrified me.

Wha. I heard David mutter behind me.

I know. The twins handiwork is something to behold the first time you see it. Frankly Im still amazed at how much they can destroy in so little time and with so few tools.

Theyre going to grow up to be plastic surgeons. Davids voice was heavy with amazement.

Or interior decorators.

Tommy and Terry had, in whatever time theyd been awake, not only found a wayinvolving a chair, a phonebook and a yardstickto get down the craft items but also to meticulously glue my drapes together, pleat by pleat, from the floor upward as high as they could reach. Then theyd done trompe l oeil along the bottom of the two largest walls.

The boys probably will be artists of some sort or in a profession that requires an artistic eye and skilled fingerslike cosmetic dentistry or, as David suggested, plastic surgery. They had actually managed a little theme in their artistrya bold thread of red crayon running through jagged lightning bolts of green and black, and punctuated with bright yellow and orange suns with rays that reached from the bottom of the wall to over the twins heads.

I groaned and sat down on the floor. Immediately both boys were at my side, stroking my cheeks and hair and saying, We made it pretty for you!

I looked up at David who, the scoundrel, tried to suppress a grin.

You boys arent supposed to draw on the walls. And what have you done to my drapes?

Here it comes, I thought. Terrys eyes grew wide and welled with tears. Tommys lower lip began to wobble tremulously. The next thing Id hear was remorseful, penitent wails. The boys, though terrorists in the making, are deeply sensitive when anyone questions their good intentions.

I grabbed them by their Spider-man T-shirts and put them in front of me. I know you wanted to do something pretty. You always do. But you cant be wrecking my house!

Mommy lets us, Terry observed, his remorse already vanished.

I looked up at David. And the truth comes out.

Youre sure your mommy lets you? I demanded, determined to get to the bottom of the cryptic statement. What does she say when she lets you do this?

Tommy squirmed out of my grasp and, with a theatrical flair that would have thrilled Charley to death, did a swoon worthy of Sarah Bernhardt. He put the back of his wrist to his forehead, moaned histrionically and, whimpering, fell to the floor in a faint. Tommy opened one eye and gazed at me. Like that.

I heard David choke back laughter and walk from the room. Tommy and Terry eyed me warily. I was not their mommy and not prone to fainting.

After I set them to work scrubbing the walls with two of the many crayon erasers I keep on hand, I returned to the kitchen where David was refilling his coffee cup. He was still grinning.

How can you keep a straight face when those two do something like that? Theyre hilarious.

It obviously is not your walls and drapes were talking about.

Uproarious giggles came from the back room.

Now what are they doing?

Cleaning. Fortunately they dont seem to mind. As far as I can tell, they just need to be directed and busy. I scraped my glue-and-glitter decorated fingers through my hair. Unfortunately, it takes a Ph.D. to keep them that way.

Much to my amazement, David put down his mug, strode across the room and put his warm, strong hands on my shoulders. You have got to have dinner with me tonight.

I feel like Ive been dragged through a knothole in a toothpick. Why would you or anyone else want my company?

Suze, quite frankly, you become more captivating by the moment. Granted, youre particularly fascinating because of the way we met, but your house, your nephews, your animalsLets just say you are an intriguing change

Mentally I filled in the blank for him: from the other women I know.

I like your approach to life. His dark gaze bored into mine.

I felt myself slipping under his spell. Hang on, Suze, dont get your hopes up.

Fortunately Chester chose that moment to morph into a watchdog and my guardian, and bolted out of nowhere to land hissing, claws extended, onto Davids pant leg.

T o his credit, David hardly screamed at all. Chester did, however, manage to snag a very pricey pair of trousers.

I dont think your watch-cat wants you to go out with me.

The idea of being away from my house for the evening was very enticing.

Lets see what I can do about a babysitter. I dont want to ask Darla. Shes done enough. I picked up my handheld and dialed my parents house. Theyd had a weekend in Florida. They should be rested enough to handle it.

I was just thinking about you, Mom said brightly when she answered the phone. Your sister e-mailed me to ask how you were holding up. I wrote back, telling her that Dad and I would stop by tonight so that you could go out for a few hours. How does that sound?

Wonderful, I thought. Perfect. What time can you be here?

She seemed a little taken aback at the swiftness with which I accepted, but promised to be at my house by seven. Mom and Dad tag-team the boys and manage pretty well. Mom gives the pair cookies for good behavior. Dad teaches them card games that Mickey would probably rather not have them know, but they play for toothpicks, not money so it seems shady but not outright corrupt. At least they are learning their numbers this way.

Ill pick you up at seven-fifteen, David said. He looked almost as pleased as I felt at the temporary reprieve from captivity.

I dont mind driving. Then you wont have to bring me home.

He looked at me in reprimand. My Southern-born grandmother taught me better than that. David, if you arent a gentleman, what are you? If you havent got strong faith and good manners you cant get along in the world, she says. Ive taken it to heart. Why, if she heard, even today, that I let you drive yourself to dinner, shed be on a plane to the Cities with a wooden spoon in her hand to put me in my place.

Youre doing a wonderful job. I was inordinately pleased to hear that part about having faith. I love good manners in the men I date, but I can live with an occasional affront to Emily Post. Strong faith, however, is something Im not willing to compromise on. Id be happy to write your grandmother a note and tell her what a good job shes done.

His eyes twinkled when he spoke again. Ill keep that in mind. One never knows when a letter of recommendation might be needed.

David glanced around until he found Chesters whereabouts, on a padded rocking chair across the room, and then, to my surprise, leaned over and kissed me on the nose. See you at seven-fifteen. He escaped as Chester stood up, the fur on his back upright, hairs marching down his back like soldiers.

I was colliding dreamily with my furniture, trying to make it back to the bedroom where the boys had turned their punishment into yet another game, when the phone rang. I snagged it before going into the bedroom to observe my cleaning crew.

Suze, its Darla. What can you tell me about that guy?