With half an hour to warm up, the tigers were champing at the bit, ready to take on any opponents. Johnny and Stan played net while Bella and Dorrie played base line. Setting up the ball to Johnny came back to her as if they had played yesterday, not five years ago.
She was feeling good, better than she had in a long time. The familiar surroundings, old friends, and the healing power of the sea combined to soothe her raw nerves. She had had a lot on her mind, especially being hired to choreograph the movie. Although she wouldn’t admit it, Dorrie was scared to death she couldn’t do it well. Hustle and Dance was slated to be a major film. The dancing had to be flawless.
Would she get it right? Would the routines be faithful to the show, but fresh at the same time? Did she have the stamina to face day after day of rigorous physical activity? Though she had spent three years building up her strength, especially in her ankle, could it last through a demanding job continuing for several months?
She didn’t have the answers, and worried because she’d already seen small signs of weakness. After long walks, her ankle would ache for an hour or two. Certain dance positions aggravated it more than others. This would be the challenge of a lifetime.
She put aside her concerns, refusing to let them cloud the beauty of Fire Island or the warmth of her buddies. For now, her mind was clear, her smile genuine. Dorrie wasn’t paying attention. She ignored warning bells in her head about jumping and running on the uneven sand. So far so good, she was fine.
The score was tigers eight, panthers five. The players took a break to cool off in the ocean. Everyone ran in, but Dorrie stopped at the water’s edge.
“Come on, come on,” Johnny called.
Still, she hesitated, hanging back after dipping her toe into the chilly water. Johnny made a face and ran up to her “If Mohammed isn’t going to come to the mountain…,” he mumbled as he picked her up.
She began to scream and kick. In a moment, her cries had morphed into a high-pitched giggle. Overcome with laughter, she struggled in vain as Johnny held her fast. He threw her into an oncoming wave then dove in after her.
Dorrie closed her mouth just in time to avoid filling it with salt water and sand. She swam underwater, bobbing up a few feet away. Johnny came to the surface shortly after. She splashed him, and he lunged at her, pushing her under along with him. They came up laughing. He slung his arm around her waist and pulled her to him for a kiss. His mouth was rough, like the sea, his lips cold and salty.
On land, Stan motioned for them to return. They waded out of the water, cooled down and dripping, to resume their game. Johnny ran ahead, leaving Dorrie to walk up alone. His personality, his presence took up all the space around her, surrounding her. When he left, it was as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the air.
As the match continued, the tigers increased their lead. By twelve-thirty, they had won. Lots of war whoops were joined by high fives and leaps into the air. That’s when it happened. Dorrie landed on the wrong leg, her weak ankle unable to support her weight coming down hard and on a slant. The foot folded and something pulled. Pain shot up her leg. She collapsed in the sand and lay there, crying softly, clutching her leg. Johnny ran to her.
“What happened? What’s wrong?”
Dorrie couldn’t speak as pain stole her breath. She pointed. He picked her up and ran into the sea where he lowered her ankle into the cold water. Together they sat down, keeping her immersed as the surf washed over them waist-high.
The low temperature numbed her, reducing the pain. Dorrie rubbed it.
“My bandage.”
“You have an Ace bandage?”
She nodded. “In the house.”
Johnny was up in a flash and heading toward the walkway.
“How convenient. Getting hurt so you can have John Flanagan all to yourself.”
“You’re an idiot, Mary.” Dorrie grimaced, trying to ignore her housemate.
Mary shifted her weight, sticking out her lower lip in an ugly pout. “Here he comes now. Your puppy dog, doing your bidding. I didn’t know you could be so sneaky.” Mary dropped her comment like a bomb and eased away. Dorrie paid no attention.
Johnny arrived with the bandage. He cleaned the sand from her skin with his hand before she fastened the brace. Then, he picked her up and carried her back to the house.
“This isn’t necessary. I can walk, at least limp.”
“Nonsense. You need ice and shouldn’t be walking on the sand.”
He set up a chair in the shade, made an ice pack, and handed her a beer.
“I’m starved. Who’s doing lunch today?” he asked.
“Check with Drake. He’s got the schedule. Just hope it isn’t Pierre.”
“Might have to check for arsenic.” John chuckled.
As if on cue, Drake ran up the walk, sweat pouring from his forehead. “What happened? What happened? Do we need a helicopter to the hospital?”
“Calm down, Drake. I messed up my ankle a little. It’ll be okay. What’s for lunch?”
“Your ankle? Your bad ankle? Damn.” He wiped his face on a small towel around his neck.
John’s brow furrowed. “Will you be able to do the movie?”
“I hope so.” She covered up her concern. It’ll be okay. You can do it. You have to do it.
“So where’s the food?” John turned to Drake.
“Hero’s at our place. Do you want me to—”
“I’ll do it. Hungry, Dorrie?” John chimed in before Drake could offer.
“Starved!”
“Good. I’ll be right back.” John and Drake left, muttering about the past performances of the Mets and Yankees and who had a radio to listen to the game.
Dorrie held the ice to her ankle, which had started to swell. She sat back and smiled. It hurts a little. It’s swelling, but it’ll be okay. It has to. I’ll be able to do the Central Park scene. I will. Determination settled in her heart as she sipped her beer and tried to relax.
* * * *
As soon as they were out of Dorrie’s earshot, Drake turned to John.
“What is it with you two?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you going to break her heart again? Because if you are…John…”
“Hey! She broke mine first.”
“That’s crap, and you know it. I know you like to screw around. Why don’t you leave her alone?”
“You don’t know shit, Drake. So butt out. This doesn’t concern you.” John frowned and looked away from his friend.
“Maybe it does.”
“Oh? How?” John raised his eyebrows.
“Maybe there are other guys…more solid guys, who want to be with her.”
“You, for instance? A married man? That’s great. I’m sure she’ll jump at the chance.”
“If I could have Dorrie? I’d leave Chrissy in a heartbeat.”
“What the hell? Nice to know you took your commitment seriously.”
“I’ve always loved Dorrie. Up till now, she only wanted you. Maybe it’ll be different this time.”
“Does Chrissy know?”
“She’s suspected there’s someone else.”
“Having a serious crush on Dorrie doesn’t mean she returns the feeling. Does Dorrie know how you feel?”
“I made a pass once, five years ago. She laughed, thought I was drunk—joking. I played along.”
“You haven’t said anything since then?”
“I haven’t seen her much since she broke her engagement…she’s in New York then LA…you know.”
“So Dorrie’s not down with this?”
Drake shook his head.
“Buddy, I think you should back off. She’d never go for breaking up a marriage.”
“And she’d prefer a prize womanizer like you? A guy who can’t keep it in his pants?”
John stopped. His hand fisted at his sides. “I’m not like that anymore.”
“Yeah? A leopard doesn’t change his spots.”
“Have you told Chrissy?”
Drake shook his head.
“Don’t want to be there when that bomb goes off. You’ve been married for four years, and still in love with Dorrie?”
“If she gave me a chance, we’d be great. We’ve been friends for a long time.”
“Don’t rock the boat. Stay with Chrissy and let it go, man. Dorrie’s mine.”
They had arrived at the house. John cut two generous pieces of the hero, wrapped them in paper towels, and headed for the door. Drake grabbed his arm.
“If you hurt her, I’ll make you pay.”
“And who’ll you answer to when you crush Chrissy and put Dorrie in the middle, where she doesn’t belong?” John shook his friend’s hand off, pushed the screen door open, and moved down the walkway.
Dorrie was asleep on the sofa when he reached her. John put her sandwich on the coffee table. He eased quietly into a chair and watched her sleep while he ate. She’s so sweet, so angelic asleep. He chuckled to himself. And a wildcat when she’s awake! She stirred and stretched. One eye cracked open to stare at him.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Lunch.” He moved the plate closer to her. She sat up, stretched again, and yawned.
“Thank you. Volleyball wore me out.” She picked up her food.
I’d like to wear her out—in the bedroom. Johnny loved her vulnerable like this most of all. He had tired of the super women, who could do everything better than a man except grow a dick and made sure you knew it, or the opposite, women who were totally incompetent and thought it was cute and feminine to be stupid.
Dorrie was strong, but not so strong she didn’t need anyone. She needed him. Or that’s what he wanted to think. She was smart, talented, yet not overbearing. Here she was about to make a movie and not rubbing everyone’s nose in it. Not bragging. Dorrie never bragged.
The Dorrie he loved from five years earlier had matured beautifully. Her body had filled out while her hard times had made her compassionate. Her arrogant veneer from five years ago had worn or broken off. Maybe I’m just in love with her, and she could be a monster and I wouldn’t see it. He stopped questioning and sat back in his chair, relaxed and smiling.
“No more volleyball for you, young lady.”
“Guess not. Board games…”
“Card games. I think we still have a gin rummy competition going on.”
Dorrie bolted upright on the sofa. “Gin rummy? Bring it on! I’m better than ever!”
John reached for the deck of cards sitting on the end table. Damn right you are.
“Still think you can beat me?”
“Think? You mean, know.” A gleam shone in her eye as a broad smile stretched her lips.
“You wish.”
“Deal, buster. Put your cards where your mouth is.” She took a bite of her sandwich.
He laughed as he shuffled the deck.
* * * *
Dorrie couldn’t believe how easily she and Johnny fell back into their old ways. Teasing each other, being volleyball teammates and competitors at cards made the weekend seem like she’d stepped back in time. Although her pulse quickened when her gaze met his and when she sneaked a peek at his broad shoulders or cute butt, what made her heart melt was his protectiveness and friendship.
The nagging voice of doubt in her head that kept reminding her of his tomcat ways was getting drowned out. She tried to keep her defenses up, but they slipped a little further with each act of kindness. I’m a sucker for a nice guy.
They played cards until the rest of the gang returned from the beach. Then, it was cocktail time. The blender was plugged in and frozen daiquiris of different sorts were whirled together in increasing strengths. Stan brought a guitar over from the men’s house, and people started to dance. Chrissy found Drake and stayed glued to his side.
Dorrie lay back on the couch, her foot elevated on the coffee table, and sipped a cool drink. Discussions about the volleyball game and disagreements about the menu for dinner broke through the hum of laughter and whispers, fighting with the music for Dorrie’s attention. Overwhelming noise, as usual. She smiled. Some things don’t change.
She moved to stand up, John reached out his hand. One grimace of pain until she got her bearings, and she was able to walk with a limp to her room. “I’m going to read for a while.”
“See ya later.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.
Dorrie lay down on her bed and closed the door, but she was unable to concentrate on her book and didn’t feel sleepy. Muted noise drifted in. Thoughts of Johnny raced through her brain. Unable to form any definite conclusions about him, she sighed. Tonight at the party. I’ll know then.
The house would be filled with lots of women and men from neighboring houses making the rounds of the parties with the single crowd in Fair Harbor. She’d be watching Johnny like a hawk to see if the rooster in him still strutted through the henhouse. Dorrie finally drifted off to sleep.
Awakened by tantalizing smells of food cooking, she pushed up slowly, testing her weight on her injured ankle. One slight wince at a quick, sharp pain then the joint seemed to hold. She shifted her weight to the other side and returned to the living room. Chrissy and Bella were making a big chicken stew to be served with rice. Simmering mushrooms, tomatoes, and carrots created a heavenly aroma.
Dorrie showered then made two batches of brownies. After putting them up to cool, there was a knock on the door.
“Everybody decent?” a familiar voice called out.
“Come in.”
“Damn, too bad.” Johnny entered shaking his head.
Dorrie laughed. “Such a skin hound, Flanagan.”
“Mind if I use your outdoor shower? Our indoor and outdoor are busy.”
“Go ahead. The girls just finished.”
“Thanks.” He tucked his small bag under his arm and went around to the back of the house.
God, Johnny naked in the outdoor shower. Dorrie began to sweat. Her heart rate increased. Imagine being in there with him. A vision of water running through the hair and over the muscles of his chest and abs flashed in her head. She closed her eyes and clung to the counter top as her knees became weak.
Curiosity got the best of her, luring her outside. She crept around the side of the house, walking soundlessly in the sandy soil. She heard the water running, and Johnny’s deep voice singing a tune she didn’t recognize. Then the water went off. She was about to sneak away, but a sudden, sharp pain in her ankle caused her to gasp.
She stopped and held her breath. He didn’t hear me, did he? Couldn’t have. The door swung open and a strong arm reached out, circling her waist. He pulled her into the generous stall and shut the door. Losing her balance, Dorrie fell sideways, down onto the wooden bench. Johnny stood, chuckling, a towel fastened around his waist.
“Did you come back here to see me?”
She gulped and leaned down to rub her ankle.
“Let me do that.” He knelt down on the sandy grass and took her sandaled foot in his hands. His fingers worked her muscles and tendons gently as his gaze traveled up slowly, stopping at her eyes. She stared at his chest, still wet and covered in a smattering of dark hair.
“You look really good in a towel.”
“I’ve been told I look even better without it,” he whispered, then burst out laughing.
Dorrie covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her guffaws.
“Johnny? You in there? You alone?” Mary called out.
Dorrie held her finger to her lips, trying not to giggle.
“Mary Manning, is that you? Are you volunteering to come in here when you know I’m stark naked?”
“Didn’t say I wanted to come in…just wanted to know…” she stammered.
“Why, Mary! I do believe you’re making a pass at me!” he called out.
“No, no…I’m not, I’m just wondering…I mean, I can’t find Dorrie…and…”
“Mary, shame on you! Let a man at least get dressed before you pounce.” Johnny clapped both hands over his mouth as he and Dorrie worked to swallow their hysteria. But they were unsuccessful.
“Yeah, Mary. I’m in here. Eat your heart out,” Dorrie yelled before giving in to a fit of giggling.
“Dorrie! You little slut!” But that’s all they heard from Mary.
“It’s going to be all over in about thirty minutes that you were having sex with me in here.”
“Is it?” Dorrie widened her eyes, feeling bold, throwing him a suggestive look. So let’s make it come true. What am I thinking?
“Your reputation will be in shreds.” He grinned.
“Will it? Dear me,” she clucked in mock concern.
“What’s worse…you’re taking mine down with you!” His eyes danced with mischief and Dorrie doubled over with laughter.
When she could breathe, she squeaked out, “What reputation? You don’t have one.”
“Yes, I do…all bad!” It was a few minutes before they could start breathing normally again.
“Shoo, out you go. Let a man get dressed.” Johnny opened the door to the shower and eased Dorrie out.
She stuck out her lower lip in a pout. “You mean I can’t watch?”
He leaned over and kissed her. “Nope. Scoot. If you don’t leave, I won’t be responsible for my actions,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.
Dorrie stopped in the doorway and closed her fingers around his neck and pulled his face to hers, fastening her mouth over his. Johnny clasped her to him, one arm circling her waist while the other hand closed the shower room door.
Desire stirred Dorrie’s blood as she opened her lips to him. Johnny plunged his tongue into her mouth, capturing her, tasting her, demanding surrender. And she complied, melting against him, the back of the door pressed into her, her hands flattened against his chest, fingers digging slightly into his hard muscle.
As forcefully as it began, it ended. Gasping for air, Dorrie pulled back, her chest heaving. Johnny’s eyes were filled with lust. He secured his drooping towel.
“I told you I couldn’t be responsible. Now go.” He opened the door again, and this time, Dorrie made it through. Johnny added a playful slap on her behind.
Testing her ankle, Dorrie found it to be less painful. She walked carefully back into the house and plopped down on the sofa.
“What’s Mary’s problem? She snapped my head off,” Bella said, sitting next to Dorrie.
“An attack of the green-eyed monster, I think,” Dorrie replied.
Within an hour, the house was filled to the brim with old friends. Johnny handed out beer while Chrissy and Bella served the chicken stew. Brownies were piled high on a platter. Stan cranked up music and eating turned into dancing as the pots were emptied and dirty plates piled in the sink. Pierre got stuck with dishwashing while the revelers gyrated to old favorites.
Strangers wandered in from other houses in Fair Harbor. Dorrie noticed some good looking men and some knock-out women. Some of the women were practically topless, shaking everything they had as an advertisement to any eligible man. Dorrie kept a close watch on Johnny.
His gaze wandered from busty woman to busty woman as he provided beer for the house members and sold beer to strangers. Who could blame him? They’re practically naked. All the men were staring at the women. Dorrie wore a more modest halter-top in a green and blue print and white shorts. She checked her watch. Nine. Will he remember our date or go wandering off with one of these newbies? Who knows? The party mood left her, and she stole outside to sit on the stoop.
She washed a couple of ibuprofen down with beer and leaned back against the house, reducing some pressure on her ankle. The swelling had gone down some, and it was not feeling nearly as sore. I won’t be dancing a tango, but at least I can walk.
Mary burst through the door, opening it so hard it banged against the wall.
“Damn bitches! Someone should call the cops. They’re dancing nude in our house!”
“Calm down, Mary.”
“Calm down! They’re like the Pied Piper. When they leave, they’ll take all the good men with them…including your Johnny.” Mary cast a wicked glance at Dorrie.
“We’ll see. They can only handle one at a time.”
“Haven’t you heard of ménage?” Mary shot back.
“Please, Mary. Don’t get carried away.”
Mary lit a cigarette and slid down next to Dorrie. “Hey! No smoking near me,” Dorrie said, fanning the air.
Mary pushed to her feet and moved ten feet away. “Better?”
“Not smoking would be better,” Dorrie mumbled, glancing at her watch. Nine-thirty.
The smoke drove Dorrie back in the house. Johnny was dancing fast with one of the almost-naked women. He waved at Dorrie. Screw your eyes back into your head, Flanagan. Haven’t you seen breasts before?
She saw him focus his gaze on her again with a questioning look. Yeah, you’re just dancing, right? She shrugged and opened the closet door. After rummaging around, she found two clean beach towels and tucked them under her arm. Ignoring Johnny, she left the house and took her time heading toward the beach. Her ankle was sensitive, so she proceeded slowly. Looking up at the twinkling of the bright stars in the black sky made her smile.
As she approached the stairs, she was calmed by the smell of salt in the air plus the sound of the waves rushing in to shore. I love it here. If there weren’t so much drama, I’d stay longer.
Climbing the steep steps was daunting. Dorrie started slowly and took them one at a time. Careful of her footing, she made her way to the spot she and Johnny had agreed on. Tossing out a towel, she lowered herself down, pulled on the sweater she’d brought, and leaned against bent knees, listening to the night sounds.
It was past ten now. She couldn’t help but glance toward the steps, but no tall, shadowy figure appeared. Her heart was heavy. She sighed and lay back, looking up at the sky. After making a wish on the first star she saw, Dorrie wondered if beings on other planets had as much pain trying to find their mate.
“Did you make a wish?” The deep voice startled her. Dorrie sat up.
“Johnny?”
“Were you expecting someone else?”
“Frankly, I wasn’t expecting you.” She lay back down. He’s here, like he said he’d be. Not with one of those naked women.
“I thought we had a date. Was I mistaken?” He approached her.
Dorrie tried to read her watch in the moonlight. “Yeah, we did, about half an hour ago.”
“I’m late. Yeah, about fifteen minutes late. I apologize…Queen Dorrie wants me to be on the minute, and I’m not. I bow to your superiority.” He spread out a towel next to hers and sat down.
“You don’t have to get snide.”
“Snide? I’m snide? Look in the mirror, girl, if you’re looking for snide. You wrote the book!”
“I’m just saying…”
“Look, I can go. If you don’t want me here, there are plenty of other ladies down there who’d love to be with me.”
“Fine! Go, then!” Dorrie sat up and turned her back to him.
Johnny ran his hand through his hair. They sat in silence for a while. He cleared his throat.
“You still here?” Dorrie knew he was, but couldn’t stop herself from baiting him. What am I saying?
“Why are you doing this? I couldn’t wait to be alone with you.” He touched her shoulder, sending a shiver up her spine.
“Yeah?” Hope ignited a spark in her heart.
“Yeah. So, I was a few minutes late. Maybe I couldn’t pull myself away fast enough without being rude. If that’s a deal breaker then we have nothing to talk about…and you’ve changed more than I thought.” He rose to his knees.
She turned to him and put her hand on his arm. “Don’t go. I’m sorry. I was being stupid, petty.”
“Sure were.” He sat back down.
“Frankly, I’m surprised you showed at all.” What are you doing? Stop! You’ll drive him away.
“Wow! Where the hell did that come from? Get the number of that truck.”
“With all those…undressed women…” Make him admit he wasn’t interested in them? What if he was?
“Hey, I believe in advertising, but that’s ridiculous.” There was silence again. “What did I do?” He raised his shoulders.
“Nothing.”
“So you thought I’d break my date with you to get laid by one of those chicks? That’s a low blow…one—that you thought I’d break the date, stand you up…and two—that you thought I like cheap women. Geez. I don’t know, Dorrie. Maybe this is a mistake.” He stood up.
“Wait! Wait. I don’t think those things of you…but when you were late …and those women were all over you. What was I to think?” She reached for his hand.
“How about having a little faith in me…in us?”
“There is no ‘us’.”
“There is.” Johnny sank back down on the blanket. “Come over here.”
Dorrie peeked at him shyly.
“You, come over here!” Johnny motioned, and she slowly crawled closer. When he could reach, he grabbed under her arms and pulled her onto his lap.
“Much better,” he said. She folded her legs up underneath and rested against his chest. Johnny stroked her hair and planted a kiss on her head.
“What should we talk about?”
“The elephant in the room,” he said, softly.
“What’s that?”
“You think I dumped you, and I think you dumped me.”
“Oh.” Dorrie didn’t want to talk. She wanted to stay in Johnny’s arms forever, not talking, not explaining, not examining anything, simply feeling. She began to make a small, steady noise, almost like a purr deep in her throat.
“Can’t we just stay like this a while?”
“Sure we can, babe. Whatever you want.” Johnny eased down until he was lying flat on the dunes with Dorrie still on his chest. He moved his hand to her back.