Patti felt foolish. But she had driven to the London Underground. She wondered if perhaps Matt Delaney was not going to show up.
She had indeed shook Rick Friel's hand at the door, and he had looked grateful, at least to Patti's imagination. She'd wanted to tell him she was giving her total and full blessing to whatever feelings he had for V. Ardanowski. But that seemed a little too presumptuous, so she didn't say anything.
She wondered how Matt had said goodbye to V., or indeed, if he had. Maybe he had not been serious. That was what had Patti feeling foolish. Suppose he did not show up, and she was just an idiot for doing so?
She was in these musings when she felt a hand on her arm.
"Here you are," said Matt Delaney.
Patti looked up at him, relieved.
"I wasn't sure you would show up," he said.
"I felt the same," she said, honestly.
He smiled, and took her arm. "Dance?" he asked.
Laraine and Gia were sitting at Luke's Bar, having a drink. Gia had wanted to get off the Island for a while, and called Laraine Breyer, who was a co-worker at Deception Co. who Gia often talked with.
"I'm surprised you don't have a date," Gia said. Gia was married, to Nik Cassidine, but Laraine was single, and so, when they had conversations, Laraine's love life figured prominently in them.
"I'm going to quit dating for a while," Laraine declared. "Perhaps forever."
Gia smiled the smile of the happily married upon hearing such an affirmation. "You must have had a bad experience lately," she said.
"I'm tired of hearing the same old thing. Being played the same old way."
"It's getting boring," Gia commiserated.
"Yes. How did you meet your prince? Did you know right away? Or did he seem the same at first?"
"I wouldn't have said I knew right away then, but looking back, there was something. Some extra notice I took. It was the situation. We both thought we rented the same house and settled it by both living there."
"See, so it wasn't a date."
"Are you thinking dating might be useless? Because you could meet Mr. Right that way."
"But then maybe I don't meet Mr. Right for trying."
"I see what you mean. I've heard that logic before. Quit looking and he will appear."
"Exactly right. Dating – they all seem the same. And none of them are ever into me, either. Hurts my self esteem. I guess theirs too."
"So just do what you'd normally do and meet who you normally meet."
"Yeah. I play tennis. I'll play more."
"The country club is a good place to look."
Laraine grinned. "I guess so. But remember, I'm not looking. Just playing tennis. Not on some mission. Whoever's here is here. It's fate. Or just sitting here with you and Luke."
Gia smiled. "OK, you could strike up a big romance with Luke if he wasn't married."
"Luke'll see me. He'll know me better. Maybe he'll know a guy. Just a chance among others."
"I'm going to invite you for dinner. You'll be around my father and uncle in law. They're both too old for you, but they'll know you. Sometimes they have assistants. Even if they're girls, they might be girls you could go out on the town with."
"Or they might have brothers," Laraine said. "My brothers for example, are two really great guys. If you were single, I'd introduce you to Chad."
"Hey, doesn't Chad have friends? Or Toby?"
"I try to avoid that, in case it doesn't work out. With Chad's. Toby's are young."
"But if one of Chad's friends gave you that feeling, that rush, what would you do?"
"It depends. Chad's very best friends are more like brothers, but I guess any new friend could be less important to him than my chances of true love." Laraine rolled her eyes. "But he'd be just another average American guy. The same old."
"Hmm, so you're thinking more exotic. Like what? A foreigner?"
"Yeah, maybe a dark and wild eyed Italian."
Gia giggled. "Maybe I could dig up a Greek for you."
Back at London Underground, Ned Ashton was playing. A few people danced. One couple looked a little off, like the woman was a bit older than the man.
Allison and Glen were listening to him. They liked to check out the competition. Allison's daughter Yvonne was the lead singer of a grunge band, called "The Dissenters." Tonight they had a gig in Buffalo.
"This is so different, it's not like it really is competition," Glen said.
"Draws a different audience, sure," Allison said. "The older one. I really like his acoustic style."
"More like yours," Glen observed.
During a break, Glen said, "Go and talk to him and see how he got the gig."
Allison went up to Ned, who was starting to change a guitar string. "That's always a fun job," Allison said.
Ned smiled at her.
"Really nice set," Allison said.
"Thank you," Ned said. "You play yourself?"
"A little. I taught my daughter. And paid the price. Now she has a grunge band."
Ned laughed. "You got what you deserved," he said. "Have you ever played?"
"In college, I had a couple of gigs, but I've never made much of it," she said. "My style is a lot like yours, so you probably are near my age, and you know our kind of thing is nostalgic. Very sixties or seventies."
"Yeah," Ned said. "You sing?"
"Yes, I tried teaching my daughter that, too, but she just screeches."
"I bet she does. Look at my song list, see if you know the harmony to any of them," he said.
"Really?" Allison said.
"Yeah, I've wanted a female harmony, but I can't convince my young cousin to be seen in public with me, and my older cousin doesn't sing, and the local DA, though she sings, never has time to rehearse."
Allison looked at the list of songs, intrigued. "I could do that one, and that one," she said. "Easily."
"OK, I'll call you up here. What did you say your name was?"
She told him.
When she got back to the table, she was excited. "I got a back-up gig," she said to Glen, eyes shining.
"Wow," Glen said. "See, it never hurts to schmooze."
When Allison went up to harmonize with Ned, Glen listened with pride. Allison could sing beautifully, and he had always been rather proud of it. She just never had the opportunity to show it off.
And she was way better than Yvonne, in Glen's opinion.
In Buffalo, at a club called "Pier 19," the Yvonne and her band, the Dissenters, were playing.
Duane and Sarah were in the audience listening.
Sarah felt really good about this particular date. It was to see Yvonne, after all. Sarah felt a little nervous. At some point, there would be a break, and Yvonne would know Duane had brought her. She felt sure Yvonne would be fine with it. But she wanted to be sure.
Duane was always a little shy about anyone knowing they were together. His friend Rick Friel hadn't helped, with some of his comments when he'd seen them out at the symphony by accident. Sarah understood, but it was a little nerve wracking on the one hand, but on the other, it was the best and most satisfying relationship she'd ever had so far. Part of it was that there were better and clearer markers that it made progress.
Like this one. Going somewhere with Yvonne knowing he'd brought her meant progress. It meant he was willing to show her off a little. Or at least, that he wasn't so embarrassed at dating her when she was twenty years younger.
Somehow, Sarah wanted him to have that, not just for her, but so he'd feel better. She liked it when people gave him a second look because he was with her. Her mother thought that was kind of her, and said someday he'd forget all about the age difference and just want to be with her.
Sarah had finally told her parents, Jeff and Jennifer Webber, just who her new boyfriend was. They had known he was older, and it wasn't a real big surprise, except for the fact they already knew him, since they had gone out and hired him. Jennifer liked the idea she had found Sarah and lawyer and a man at the same time, and joked about it, pretending she had done it on purpose.
Sarah hadn't told Duane her parents knew, though. It was a little omission, but her parents were good for covering her. She always knew that.
Backstage, Yvonne thanked her for coming. "I figure you may not normally like this kind of music."
"Neither do I," Duane said.
"Yeah, yeah," Yvonne said, grinning.
"It's fun seeing someone you know onstage," Sarah said. "But I do like your music. Really. I might not have learned to without knowing you personally. But having that chance, I can tell you're doing something interesting."
Yvonne beamed. Duane thought how smart Sarah was. She had picked right up on how you get Yvonne on your side. Make Yvonne think her music was something important, and you were in good with her.
Later that night, lying in bed with him, Sarah said, "I'm happy you asked me to go see the band. Taking to Yvonne is all a little more public."
"I'm not really so jumpy about that anymore," he said, hugging her. He kissed her lips. He felt guilty. She was really so good to him. So patient and understanding. She was so smart. It began to dawn on him that she might be right for him, and he for her, in spite of their age difference.
"You know," he said. "I always end up going to the Nurse's Ball at the Hospital, and it is coming up again."
"Yeah," she said. "I know that event very well. My parents will sure go, for the first time in years. And Elizabeth and Paul."
That stopped him for a second. Then he took a deep breath. Oh, hell with it, he thought. "So you're a doctor there. Surely you'll go. I was thinking of asking you if you'd go with me. If you want to. But if you don't, with your whole family there, I understand."
"Don't be ridiculous, Duane," she said. She leaned up on her elbow and stroked his face. "I'd love to go with you. You know that."
He pulled her down and kissed her.
"My parents understand," Sarah said. "We don't have to hang out with them. Maybe I'll just introduce you to them and you can just say hi and that's a start?"
"OK," he said, somewhat overwhelmed. He caught his breath. "What about Elizabeth?"
Sarah laughed and took a pillow as if she might hit him with it. "Elizabeth should be happy, right?"
"I don't know if she'll be happy. But she won't have on me any more not taking you out in public."
"That'll calm her down," Sarah laughed. She lay back against him. She sighed. "I'm really happy," she said. "Never thought a girl could be so happy about having a date to the Nurse's Ball."
"So now I take you home," Matt said to Patti, as they left the London Underground bar.
"My car is here," she protested.
"That heap should never be driven at night," Matt said. "My brother and I can bring it back for you in the morning."
"I can't ask you to do that," she said.
"It's no bother," he said. "Wouldn't you rather ride home on the back of my motorcycle?" He had a mischeivous look in his eyes.
She thought about it. She had loved it the last time. It was something fun, something someone her age didn't normally get to do. A little reliving of youth.
"OK," she said. "This one time."
"This one time," he said, cheerfully.
He walked her all the way to the door. "I'll call you in the morning about the car," he said.
"Thank you," Patti said.
He stepped toward her. She felt a moment of mild panic. She felt like she was on some other planet looking down as he pulled her to him and kissed her.
She gave into it, thinking to heck with it, tonight was about reliving her youth. His lips were hot and urgent and his hand on the back of her head was all that made her feel like she was still standing upright.
He walked off then, and got on the motorcycle and drove off, without saying anything more, as if he knew that if he hung around she might say something to try to undermine the experience of kissing her.