A Pause

Katie’s last lover, Ernie, had been told to get lost as he had a girlfriend who kept switching tenses—from present to past, back to present. That’s when Denis made his appearance in Katie’s life.

The previous year, a colleague in New York had asked me to teach Katie, the lover of one of her students, to dance Argentine tango. Since then, Katie’s become more to me than just someone I taught tango. You might say I’d become an interested party.

“He's really quite sweet,” Katie mentioned while we were dancing. “He tells me he doesn't want sex.” I stopped dancing; I couldn't continue. What's wrong with him? Just maybe ... he's gay!

“He just wants to sleep with me… but no sex.” If all he wants is someone—or something—to sleep with, what about a teddy bear from the Vermont Teddy Bear Company? What a line. Was this New Age, or were we regressing to the Victorian era? I couldn't keep up. I seemed to have missed a great part of the real world somewhere in my education, but I was a fast learner, and my education was accelerating. I kept Katie in place while I stepped back, gently moving around her while she leaned.

“I thought, why not?” Katie sighed. Why not? I could think of a gazillion reasons why not. Stepping forward to close the space between us, I brought her forward, to my right. “I'm no longer seeing Ernie, and even though he and Denis are best friends, there’s no harm in seeing Denis, now. So, we started dating.” As Katie stopped, I caught her trailing foot. There was no let-up, no time to breathe. I thought there was supposed to be a break here and there—like in school—what about a café latte? but, no, not for Katie… nor for me. I was feeling exhausted—after two battles and one skirmish—and I could foresee still more to come.

Bending at the knee… “Denis is one of those people who don't believe in having money or any material possessions.” I led her to place a gancho… Yeah, I recognized the type: they don't want their own money; they want yours… after which I led her to continue around me, clockwise… “You know, fuck the establishment. He doesn't even have a bathroom in his place.” I almost let out a guffaw. Well, we have gone back to the 19th-century… or earlier. Didn't the Greeks and the Romans have bathrooms in their villas? Maybe they didn't have toilets that flushed or water from taps, but I do believe they had bathrooms in the house. In any case, in-house bathrooms were necessities… for me. What did Denis do in the winter? Maybe he had friendly neighbors; but did they have bathrooms in situ? This was just too primitive—but I wasn't having an affair with Denis. I had to remind myself of this every now and then.

And heat: what about central heating, or at the very least, space heaters? Or eiderdowns? But then, that must be the reason he needs someone to sleep with… to stay warm. Now I got it!

“Sweetheart, I'm only thinking of your welfare now.” Who was I kidding? I was thinking of my welfare—as well as Katie's. After all, I'm in this too. “What I'm about to tell you is from the heart: don't. Don't start up with this guy.” We were standing, just standing. “As sweet as Denis is—and he may be sweeter than summer corn—the guy's a loser. How can you even consider fooling around with him? Listen to me: don't go there; nothing's worth it. In any case, you haven't given me any reason for dating him—other than he's sweet, and I know a lot of sweet guys…” I couldn't finish, because Katie was squeezing me so hard—she was a massage therapist, and massage therapists need strength to do their job—that I'd lost my breath.

“It's soooo sweet of you to be concerned. But don't worry honey. I hope I didn't worry you? Don't worry—‘cause I'm not really dating Denis.”

Thinking back to when Katie enlightened me that a relationship had to last at least six months, that anything less was merely an interlude, I guess the affair with Denis didn’t even rank as an interlude. What could be briefer, a pause?

Born in Montreal, E.P. Lande has lived in France and now, with his partner, in Vermont. Previously, he taught at l’Université d’Ottawa as a Vice-Dean and owned country inns and restaurants. Since submitting less than two years ago, 75 of his stories have been accepted by publications in countries on five continents. This year, his story, "Expecting", has been nominated for Best of The Net.