Page 59 of Close Match
I was trained to notice details.
How did I not put it together before now?
Linnie was that long-ago woman on the streets of New York, pushing her body in a grueling workout just hours after she had sung her heart out on stage. Closing my eyes, I pull out the details of the runner from my memory bank. It fits. I was hanging around Central Park waiting for Ev and Mom, which happens to be near Linnie’s home in the city. She mentioned in passing her home is around the city’s infamous park. Groaning aloud, I wonder how many other times our lives brushed up against each other before they entwined.
I guess we’ll never know.
The cell in my pocket rings. Absentmindedly, I answer it. “Yeah?”
“Hello to you too, son.” My mother’s voice comes out as dry as the fall leaves beginning to dry on the trees outside. “Did I interrupt something?”
I bark out a laugh. How do I answer this?Yeah, I was busy realizing the reason I have a mild obsession for Ev’s daughter. Nothing to concern yourself with. Just a little fantasy I’ve had since New York. I’ll get a grip on it later.Instead, I reply, “Everything’s good here. What about on your end?”
“Right as rain,” Mom chirps. “We were thinking of celebrating another good month by going out to eat. Which do you think Linnie would like better, Eddie Merlot’s or Rail Stop?”
“Rail Stop,” I reply immediately.
“You think so?” Mom says, doubtfully.
“More low-key. Besides, she just took off for the studio.” I turn back toward the window. “I’d hate to interrupt her right now.”
“Then Rail Stop it is. We should be home in an hour,” Ev announces.
“More like an hour and twenty with this traffic.”
“Right. So, let’s plan on leaving for dinner in a few hours? Can you let Linnie know?”
I want to dive through the phone and give my mother a huge kiss on the cheek for giving me the excuse to seek her out. “Of course.” Making my way over to the bar, I debate pouring a small measure of bourbon and throwing it back but decide against it. “Happy to.”
“Great. We’ll talk to you later, honey.” Mom disconnects. I put the crystal tumbler down on the bar before I wander back over to the window again.
I wonder what else Linnie does in her studio beside dance. I guess I’m about to find out.
* * *
A soundtrack is blaringthrough the high-priced stereo system as I slip in unnoticed. She’s spinning barefoot, her long dark hair unbraided, flying around her. Her back to me, she plants her feet as her hips sway. “Life should be more!” Her voice reverberates in the room.
I realize she’s singing one of the large cast numbers fromMiss Me, and my heart thumps wildly in my chest. Quietly, I shuffle to the side. “Don’t let your chance slip away. Reach out and grab it.” She flings her arm out as she spins around before she goes up on the ball of her foot. If I remember correctly, this is a dance where she partnered with the male lead. Waiting for a beat, she begins to scissor her legs back and forth while racing across the floor.
It’s like walking into a dream. The pulsing throb of the music sets my blood humming to the same beat. Quietly, I close the door behind me. Leaning back, I admire the seductive way her hips roll. I wonder if they move that smoothly when she’s not dancing. Chastising myself, I tune back in to hear her sing. “Grab a hold… It’s your chance…” She performs a series of spins before leaping into the air. God, I remember when she did that on stage. She was—is—like lightning.
Just as the music begins to wane, she strikes a pose. I call out, not wanting to scare her, “Wasn’t that dance for two?”
“Jesus Christ!” Linnie stumbles. I straighten away from the wall, automatically reaching out to catch her. “I had no idea you were there!”
“I wouldn’t have thought you would mind an audience?” After all, this is a woman who’s performed in front of thousands of strangers throughout her career.
A look of pain crosses her face. “I haven’t sung a single song fromMiss Mesince Mom died.” She walks over to the remote sitting on top of the bar. She presses the Pause button and the music cuts off. “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to.”
I take in the vulnerability in her stance, the graceful arms that were swinging in the air moments ago now wrapped around herself protectively. “Shit. I’m sorry.”
“You had no idea. I figured if there were a place where I could try, it would be here. There’s nothing here to remind me of her.” Linnie shrugs as if it’s no big deal, but I know the truth. It’s a monumental step in her path towards healing. Linnie rocks her foot back and forth as if her body can’t not be moving when it’s ready to dance.
“What was she like? The mom, not the actress.” Brielle Brogan was a legend. It’s hard to imagine the mother inside.
Linnie’s face lights with a glow. “She was crazy practical about some things and insanely ludicrous about others. She helped with homework and then said, ‘So what?’ to Dad—Patrick—when it was all wrong. She’d argue that she tried and that it was just as important to teach us that as it was to show us the right answer.” I nod because it seems a good lesson for kids to learn. Linnie continues. “When we got older, she’d get the wildest ideas. There was one time when she…the balloons.” Linnie’s voice trails off as she starts laughing. “God, with everything going on, I’d forgotten all about that. I can’t remind Bris about it. I may have to do it for her as a baby gift.”
“What did she do?” The look in her bright green eyes is addicting. Her face lit with joy that radiates around the room.
