Two Feet Off The Ground Read online

  “Good. Then, what are you up to tonight?”

  Okay, if this involved sweat and barbells and smelly men, I’d have to be busy tending to her grandmother’s dying wishes of having her three yards of gray hair corn-rowed. “Just working and then going home to make sure Owen is behaving.”

  “Any chance you can meet me out tonight? A few of my friends are meeting up a Rusty’s in a bit.”

  My heart did a little jump kick. I fluttered away from Joanie like a butterfly in a field of wild flowers, roaming from one spot to another without rhyme or reason. I floated past Aziza and Tania, and then past Angie as she waxed someone’s upper lip, and past the miles of hair magazines piled up on the coffee table up front. “Rusty’s, huh?”

  “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

  Oh, believe me, I had no intention of not going. I steadied myself against the spindled cape rack, jumping head first into the euphoric waves like a carefree dolphin madly in love with the life going on around me. “I can’t promise you anything at this point because I’m not sure what’s going on with Owen, yet. But, I’ll definitely think about it.”

  “If you don’t show up, I’ll make you do one hundred push-ups next time we workout together,” she said.

  Next time? There would be a next time? I jumped in place behind the bunches of capes. Seriously, even if an asteroid pounded planet earth that night, I’d go to Rusty’s. “Well, if you can convince me to come with a reward, rather than a threat, then I’ll think about it.”

  Paula exhaled deeply into the phone. I obviously caught her off guard.

  “Well, I think I can—” Paula started to say.

  All of a sudden someone screamed from the back of the salon.

  “What the fuck?!” The voice roared through the salon.

  I peeked out from behind a cape and saw Joanie yanking at her hair in the mirror.

  “What the fuck happened to my fucking hair?!” she screamed so loud even Tania jumped up and backed away towards the front of the shop along with everyone else, including Aziza.

  “Oh, God. Major crisis. I have to go, Paula.”

  “Better be there,” she said playfully.

  Even in all of the commotion, and with Paula’s ex-girlfriend standing within feet of me, I couldn’t help but giggle. “We’ll see!”

  I flung my cell phone on the reception area chair and ran towards Joanie. I grabbed Aziza by her new sundress and pulled her along to face her fate. She resisted like any two-year-old pitching a fit in the toy aisle as her mommy drags her away from the Barbie dolls. “This is your mess, and you’re cleaning it up.”

  I pushed Aziza in front of me as we approached Joanie. She looked right at me and with a tone high enough to grate a boulder into sand, she said, “Is this what you meant by a hip, new style?”

  Joanie could have poured the left over bleach in my eyes at that moment, and I would’ve still been unable to hide my smile.

  I just stood there in front of a borderline bald customer and smiled inwardly, not caring if even ten asteroids slammed into the planet. I was going on a date with Paula.

  * *

  Once I swept up the last piece of hair on the floor, I bolted up to the front desk. “Who broke up with whom?” I asked Aziza.

  She counted the pile of twenties in the register. “Six-hundred, forty, sixty, eighty, seven hundred.” She placed the pile back in its slot and huffed. “I don’t feel like talking about it right now. Do you realize how screwed I am? She’s calling her lawyer.”

  So maybe that wasn’t the best time to tell her about my date with Paula. But I needed a babysitter. “It’ll all work out. What you need is to forget all about today.”

  “How do you suppose I do that?”

  “You could babysit Owen while I go on a date with Paula.”

  “Get the hell out of here. You got a date?”

  All of a sudden, she climbed out of her pity hole and resurfaced with a smile as bright as a full moon.

  “I got a date!” I jumped up and down like I’d just learned I won the lottery. “I know Owen is old enough to manage on his own, but I just hate leaving him like that. I’d feel better if you were with him.”

  “You got it. Go get ready.”

  I kissed her forehead before darting out the front door. “Everything’s going to be fine with baldy. You’ll see.”

  Everything was going to be just fine. What could possibly go wrong now?

  Chapter Five

  Rusty’s Bar and Grill was the hot spot in Providence for chicken wings. I’d spent many nights perched on a barstool chugging beer and wiping the hot sauce from my chin. When I entered through the outside patio entrance just after ten o’clock, I prayed Paula would still be there. As usual, I was running late. This was just the sort of thing that happened when you were a single mother trying to raise a decent kid.

  The stars were shining like diamonds in the clear, summer sky, and the music blared over the enormous speakers set up undisguised in each corner of the deck. Empty beer pitchers sat like centerpieces on most every table along with piles of chicken bones shed clean of their hot-winged meat. I turned the corner and walked inside to the bar, and what I saw immediately stopped my stiletto heels from moving another inch across the sticky floor.

  Paula stood on a chair in a mini-skirt and heels singing “It’s Raining Men”, swinging her hips in a seductive beat. A guy with dreadlocks yelled out above the hooting “Go, hottie! Show us your wild side.”

  Paula flipped her hair playfully and blew Mr. Dreadlocks a kiss. He feigned overload. She danced around the stage, each wave of her hip more fluid than the one before it. When the song ended, she looked my way and chuckled. Paula had to be the prettiest girl in the entire room. Her face shimmied under the stage lights, her smile lit up her face.

  “You came,” she said, curtseying before me like some proper Englishwomen.

  “A soccer coach, teacher, personal trainer, and now performer. What next?”

  “Well, if I keep losing bets, God only knows. Maybe I’ll start riding a unicycle.”

  “You lost a bet?”

  She blinked heavily. “I came in last in a fat loss competition.”

  The only plump cells that belonged to this woman were hanging out nicely in her boobs. “Are you insane?”

  “Five of us competed on how much fat we could lose in one month. The loser had to prance around stage in heels and a mini. I gained half a percent instead of losing. I tried to win. Honestly. I did everything a good competitor would do. I drank prune juice, I ate bran cereal, I even did some weird liver flushing concoction where I had to drink half a bottle of olive oil and a powder mix. I think that’s where I went wrong.”

  “You think?” I poked her abs, and in my best soap opera attempt, faked pain from the pressure.

  She grabbed my finger, then brushed her lips with it. “Better?”

  An electrical surge coursed through me. If I didn’t shift gears to break the heat that crackled between us, I would’ve exploded right there. “Does Owen realize his coach is a nut?”

  “No.” She wriggled her waist like a belly dancer. “And none of my players must ever know. I don’t want a bunch of hormone-driven boys focusing on my moves instead of my commands.” She bopped her tummy to the side with one last dramatic wiggle. “Now, come on,” she said taking my hand, “help me get out of these clothes and into something a little less slutty.”

  A nervous chuckle chased my shock.

  She lowered her head and looked up at me like a coy child. “I just want you to be my lookout when I change in my car.” She eased back and showered me with a smile.

  “They have bathrooms for moments like this, you know.”

  “Have you taken a look at the stalls in this place?”

  No, I had not. So, two minutes later, while standing outside her truck, I tried my best not to look like a criminal waiting for the right moment to heist a vehicle or buy drugs. People walked by my and glanced at me as though I was wearing a face ma
sk and holstering a gun. When a car full of cop look-a-likes drove past us, I flipped my phone and pretended to text.

  Finally, Paula emerged dressed in boot cut jeans and a fitted t-shirt. She offered me a smile. God she was sexy.

  Right then, I knew, I’d end up kissing this woman before the end of the night.

  * *

  Once we got back inside the bar, Paula searched for her friends. New people sat with menus at our table. “Maybe they went around the corner to the backside of the deck.” I followed Paula as she circled around the trail of tables and peeked around the corner. Just a few more packed tables, but no sight of them. “I guess they left,” she said.

  I stretched on my toes to get a better view of the place. Not even the bar had an empty stool. “Want to wait for a table?”

  “I have a better idea,” she said. “How about we just grab a smoothie next door and take a walk around the neighborhood?”

  I shrugged, acting as though my insides weren’t flipping upside down. “Sure, why not.” I took her arm and followed her towards the door. “I’m not a big wing person anyway.”

  She chuckled, and we walked out of Rusty’s door and into the mild summer night. It felt like a warm velvety blanket. I could snuggle up to it all night long.

  We stopped in front of the smoothie shop. A closed sign hung in the door. I didn’t really feel like feeding my face with anything cold anyway. I tugged at her belt loop. “Let’s just walk.” Our night couldn’t end in the smoothie shop parking lot.

  We walked for a few blocks past Waterplace Park where during special nights in the summer, Providence hosted their famous Waterfire celebration. I couldn’t imagine strolling next to three-hundred and fifty thousand people to catch a glimpse of the smoky wood dancing on water. Owen had come home from it a few times smelling like he just stepped out of a campsite, and told me all about how the fires leapt on water. He’d get so excited that his breathing always ran ahead of his voice, so he’d end up pulling himself back to his words so I didn’t miss a beat. He briefed me after his first time: One-hundred bonfires, Mom! They were blazing on fire sculptures, right in the water! And there was this kind of eerie music playing all around us. I didn’t doubt the beauty of the fires, but I’d much rather burrow deep under my fluffy comforter than be ushered along with hundreds of other people along the side of a river, much less a river on fire.

  The closer we got to Brown University, the hillier our trek became. Old houses with historical face plates on them hugged the street. Their charm welcomed people’s stares past the tiled window panes. One house in particular drew me in with its soft candlelight glow and library of books. I imagined a century earlier, friends would come and sit together and gossip about neighbors and fellow church-goers, a hundred years away from televisions, computers and cell phones.

  Once past the houses, we rounded the corner to Thayer Street, which housed books shops, clothing stores, cafes, ice cream parlors, and restaurants. “I love this restaurant,” Paula said coming to a halt in front of the bar and grill. “This is where I’d hang out with my friends when I was in school. We’d leave the library and head here for Greek salads and beers.”

  “Me, too,” I said.

  “Really? You’ve been there?”

  “Yeah, a few times.” Only every other night when I was in high school. Everyone knew that Basta’s served anyone with an ID, real or not. I always used my cousin’s license back then. It didn’t even matter that my cousin was a guy named John.

  We walked past the Brown library and to a quieter section of town. “Right in here is the Brown main quad area of the campus where I threw a lot of Frisbees and dribbled a lot of soccer balls on the grass,” she told me.

  “So, you were a Brown Bear?”

  “Yup. Played soccer for them and got a degree at the same time. Sweet deal, huh?”

  I nodded as we walked through the archway of the quad. I looked around mesmerized by the beautiful architecture of the multistory buildings lining the pathways. The quad opened up to a big grassy field, edged with manicured bushes and park benches. All those times I walked down Thayer Street, and stopped short of this area? Who knew all this existed? “Very sweet deal.”

  She stopped under the arch and looked out to the small collegiate village inside. “Just as I remember it.”

  A few people scattered along the grass here and there, adding to the typical safe feel of the University.

  “I always wanted to attend a prestigious university,” I said. I didn’t have the foggiest idea why on earth I would’ve just opened up that can of worms.

  “Which one did you end up attending?”

  “I didn’t. I went to hairdressing school.”

  Even in the dark, I could sense when the unease popped on Paula’s face, knowing that if possible, she would’ve picked up the remote control and hit the rewind button. “College is overrated anyway.”

  “I highly doubt you feel that way,” I said.

  “It’s not the only way to get ahead. I think hairdressing school is underrated—”

  “Relax.” I squeezed in closer to her. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. The truth is I probably would’ve been a good student. I started to take some classes at the community college, but with Owen being a baby at the time, I needed something not as demanding.”

  “So you went into hair?” She asked like I chose rocket science over basket weaving. I wanted to kiss her right then. I laughed instead.

  “I ended my one and only semester with a 4.0, but was bored to tears with math and science. I just wanted to be creative and do something fun with my life.”

  “You’re a natural with hair. I loved watching you that day. You’re an artist.”

  Cutting hair was like walking. I found a groove and paced ahead. “I still regret that I didn’t get a degree.”

  “Why, so you can go sit behind a desk all day and pretend to look important?”

  Because one day I wanted to be able to stand on my own two feet instead of lean against Aziza for the rest of my life. “Just makes smart business sense to have an education.”

  Her eyes lit up. “So you want to open your own salon?”

  “Someday.”

  “One class at a time is all it takes,” she said.

  “Maybe some day.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she shook her head up and down. I could see the wheels cranking.

  “Let’s make a bet and if you lose it, you have to agree to take one class this coming fall semester.”

  “You’re not very good at bets, remember?”

  She nodded and looked down at my stilettos. “Let’s race.”

  “Right now?”

  “I’ll make it fair. We’ll both take off our shoes and run on the grass from one end of the quad to the other.”

  “A race against you? Miss former Brown Bear soccer athlete?”

  She stood up and extended her hand out to me. She could’ve put a live wire in my wet hand and it wouldn’t have had as much power as her bare skin did. I inched closer to her.

  She whispered to me. “It’s a worthy proposition, isn’t it?”

  “What do I get if I finish first?” I followed her gaze down to my lips. My heart pounded below my new Victoria Secret’s camisole. We stood hand in hand, in the dark, inches away from each other, staring at each other’s lips.

  “If you finish first, you can choose to punish me anyway you’d like,” she said.

  I cocked my head. “I like the idea of punishing you.”

  She moved in closer. “But, if I finish first, I not only get a reward, but I get to see you enroll in a marketing class this fall.”

  Her breath, as refreshing as spring, fanned my face.

  I eased back a step, then stretched my arms over my head and bent to the each side. “Whatever. You might want to warm up a little. I have a little bit in me.” I did run cross country after all.

  “I’m not afraid,” she said.

  “You should be. I used to run in hi
gh school.” Of course I wouldn’t let on that I spent half my practices in Maura Setter’s living room eating pizza and swigging sodas instead of running the required three miles. I only joined the team because most of the runners were adorable.

  She smiled and bent forward to touch her toes. “If you’re anything like your son, I probably should stretch.”

  I twisted side to side, not taking my eye off her as I spoke. “Can’t wait to see what your punishment’s going to be?”

  “What do you have up your sleeve?”

  I continued to look at her with a playful glance, with no idea at all what I’d do to her. I recognized the look on her face, and it wasn’t saying I’ll take a milkshake for my reward, please. No, her eyes told a different story, more like I really like you and would like to pull you into those bushes and show you just how much.

  “According to you, it shouldn’t matter because you’re going to win anyway,” I said.

  “I’m willing to take my chances.”

  “Shall we get started then?” I asked.

  “Let’s do it.”

  We walked to the archway. I kicked off my heels and set them on top of a bench alongside her sneakers. See, I could be just as adventurous.

  We both bent forward at the hips in running position. “On the count of three, we go,” she said, flexing her long, muscular legs as though she were bracing for her chance at Gold.

  “I’m ready,” I said.

  “Three!” Paula screamed and darted ahead.

  We both flew out of starting position with a fierce power. I propelled forward and passed her like I had a jet engine strapped to my back. But, she widened her stride and floated forward with an agility of a mountain lion. It didn’t take long before I lagged behind in her dust.

  She flew, guided by the light breeze, right towards the finish line with enough time to double back and do it again if she wanted to. Huffing to the edge of the quad, I bent over to catch my breath and calm the sudden upset of the pizza I’d eaten before dashing out of the house. When confident that I could stand tall without upchucking, I looked up at her. Thankfully she was heaving in and out, too.