Cat In A Topaz Tango

Dancing in the Dark

At night the underwater lights in the Circle Ritz backyard pool made the aquamarine rectangle gleam like a glimpse into Atlantis.

Temple sat in the temperate night air, on a lounge chair, watching Matt do his laps.

“Now I know what the expression ‘bronze god’ means,” she commented dreamily. “Will that spray-on tan fade fast?”

He lifted his wet head from the water, his blond hair silvered in the moonlight.

“I sure hope so. Why do you think I’m swimming in chlorine? I want to wash that dance show out of my hair and off my epidermis.”

“Why? You won.”

He dived and resurfaced at the edge near her chair, crossing his bronzed arms on the edge to hold himself up.

“Yeah, and the show raised $180,000 for the kids’ cancer fund, so it was worth the hassle, although not the attempts on my life. And that doesn’t include being mobbed by tween girls from thirteen to ninety-three after the final show.”

“It was great that Glory B. won the women’s vote. She was so grateful. You could see her maturing on the spot. What a wonderful moment. All the contenders won something—self-confidence, renewal, fresh job opportunities.”

“Fresh commercial temptations.”

“So your perfectly highlighted blond head hasn’t been turned?”

“Lord, they want me to do spray-tan TV ads.”

“You’d make more money for good causes, including a house fund maybe.”

“Not spray-tan anything. I’ll let my agent handle it. Tony knows my bottom line is human dignity, even though I’ve played fast and loose with it lately. At least my dance gig exposed and stopped one very sick man from harming more people. I never dreamed my radio advice could get someone killed.”

“Your advice didn’t kill her. Her husband did.”

“He was insanely bitter about so much. He’d fit the Barbie Doll Killer’s stalker profile.”

“Hank Buck was a local problem. I think Molina got a lead on that Barbie doll case during this dance show stalking. She has to win that one. Her kid’s bedroom was targeted with one of the mutilated dolls.”

“Now that she knows her homegrown stalker isn’t Max.” Matt tilted his head to watch Temple. “You must be pleased about that. You always told Molina he wasn’t the villain she thought.”

“Yeah. I wish Max knew she was coming around to reason about him. If there’s a Max out there to know anything.”

“You think he’s . . . dead?”

“I hope not.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Oh, Mr. Radio Shrink! You are so not going to trick me into missing Max mode! Not now, when I want to go over the Temple tango moves as soon as you get out of that water, dry off, and dance me back to our lovely pied-à-terre.”

He laughed and let the flat of his hand hit an arc of sparkling water toward her chair. “You don’t like to swim.”

“Not in pools. Along the turquoise Riviera . . . that’s different.”

“You’re an expensive little sea nymph.”

“Darn right.” She sighed. “Rafi really wants a relationship with Mariah. He’s got a head start. I hope her mother will cooperate.”

“This injury has broken down her resistance to reality. Like Kitty the Cutter’s slash did mine.”

“Really? That was . . . liberating?”

“It’s liberating to confront that some people want to hurt you, for no reason you can see, and you don’t have to hurt back. ‘Hurt’ was too much a part of my so-called nuclear and extended family in Chicago. We don’t have to keep up the tradition.”

“We’re supposed to head north and meet your family and mine someday soon.”

“Someday soon. You don’t want to come into the water with me? It’s as silken and warm as unchilled wine.” He lifted a hand. “Come on.”

“I’m dressed.”

“Clothes dry.”

“My hair.”

“Is perfect, dry or wet.”

“I paddle like a springer spaniel.”

“I’m a merman from shining, sunken Atlantis. I’ll hold you up, and you’ll breathe underwater.”

“Really?”

“No. Don’t breathe underwater. But come with me.”

His hand pushed closer.

Temple sighed, stood, kicked off her slides, and went to squat by the pool’s edge. “You are a very metaphysical guy, you know that?”

He grasped her hand and pulled her down. “Shut your eyes and think two stars to the right and straight on till morning.”

He pulled her forward into the alien element. The water was tepid and as silken as he said. She sank in it until her chin broke water and he buoyed her up. She gasped with surprise at the buoyancy, the way cares seemed to float up from her like bubbles.

“Take a deep breath,” he said, “and don’t breathe after that.”

They sank down together to Atlantis, kissing until she saw its gleaming turquoise towers behind her eyelids. Her hair swirled like seaweed. They were no place on earth. It felt heavenly.