New York Time



The summer of 1964.

 

I never realized how flexible a few numbers could be.  How a year could mean so many different things to so many different people.  To my father, 1964 brought retirement - he sold his practice.  Mom encouraged him to buy a nice house in Carmel, and that spring they moved in. 

 

My sister Lisa entered college in 1964, at the solid middle of her class.  Dating Billy gave her a sense of determination - suddenly, she wanted to do more than model, she wanted to take forensics, she wanted to swim, and she wanted her somehow- smarter little sister to guide her along.  We'd grown closer over the year, and had planned to go to the Catskills together that summer - to Kellerman's. 

 

It's funny how life alters your plans.

 

She landed a job at a booth on the Jersey Shore - told me in a letter how much she missed the east coast and that she hoped I would understand.  When I told mom and dad the news they shared a look of understanding - somehow, they knew they were going to lose Lisa,  just like they had already lost me.

 

After my summer with Johnny, it was understood that I wasn't going to join the Peace Corps.  My life was filled with joy and uncertainty by September - for, though he wrote me numerous brief postcards of support, neither of us had money enough to meet.  I auditioned with multiple dance schools, but never seemed to fit the mold of what they were looking for - too old, too skinny, too inexperienced.  For awhile I felt a deep resentment - was it my fault that I had discovered myself a little late in life?  My family, my boyfriend, even Max, basically told me they were all full of shit, that I was 'magic' on the dance floor.

 

But I never was full enough of myself to believe it - then and now. 

 

Desperate for work, I finally won a position as a meringue instructor at Walter Scott's School of Ballroom Dance.  By November I was making enough to move out on my own for the first time - my parents were thrilled, and I was relieved.  Somehow, I made new friends, picked up a little extra money by teaching the fox trot, and didn't drive myself to exhaustion.  But I never stopped writing for Johnny, or feeling a thrill when I found a postcard from him waiting on my apartment floor.

 

After Kellermans had closed up for the summer, Johnny had taken his own position teaching ballroom in the Hamptons - it paid him well enough, but wasn't what he wanted to do with his life.  When the holiday season arrived, he announced in a post card that he would be coming to see me at Christmas.  I wrote back that I would be at my folks for the first and last days of Hanukah - how he had forgotten that I'm Jewish I'll never know - and when I tried to call his place his roommate wasted my fifteen cents with a drunken dissertation on the power of Jack Kerouac.  Johnny was already gone - I had no idea how long the cross-country trip might take, or where I should meet him.  Without options, I tacked a note for him up on my apartment door and left to meet my folks in Carmel.  Once I got there, my mother's cooking and a quarter-pound of chocolate gelt tempted me into sticking out an entire week in Lisa's bedroom. 

 

In those seven days, I began to realize something about my relationship with Johnny - that all of the things attracting us together had a tendency to tear us apart.  He was impulsive - wild - I loved that about him.  But I had a need for balance, equality in all things, and though he was proud of me, he didn't seem to appreciate my need for personal order.  I had been free of confidence when we met - now that I paddled my own canoe, he sometimes seemed to resent it.  After all, he had molded this woman -  this Baby who could dance like a devil while looking like an angel.  Though I wanted to believe that he loved me, sometimes I wondered if he was more in love with his own creation than Frances Houseman, the nice girl from New Jersey who loved the Beatles and still dreamed of bringing about world peace.

 

I returned from my parent's place with the gelt I had won from Lisa, a coffee table book of Impressionist Paintings for my coffee-table-free apartment, and a head full of worries about the man I loved.  My unlocked  door and an empty living area greeted me.  Cautiously, I walked the floor, expecting a prowler - and discovering Johnny, humming over my hotplate and cooking bacon.

 

Delighted, I threw myself against his back, hands covering his eyes.  "Guess who?" I tried to disguise my voice.

 

"Nancy?  Is that you?"

 

He shocked me into letting go.  "Who the he-" he turned and cut me off with a playful kiss.  I relaxed into his arms - Johnny Castle still remembered how I liked to be kissed, and at the moment that was satisfying enough.

 

When we broke apart, he placed his hands to my hips, then picked me a few inches up from the floor.  When he dropped me, I landed on my feet.  "Baby, Baby, Baby..." he grinned.  "Damn, woman, you've grown up!"

 

"I should have," I panted.  "I'm not eighteen anymore."

 

"You aren't.  California's making you taller - "

 

"Making the bacon burn."

 

"Making the - " He whirled around, and with all of his usual grace yanked the plug out of the hotplate and dumped the black pork onto a chinette dish.  He gingerly rested the hotplate against my dining table.  "Sorry,” then held out a piece of bacon.  "Want some?'

 

I frowned at the bacon.  "If I'm gonna go to hell, I'd rather it be for something more fun than eating bacon on a high holy day."

 

Comprehension dawned.  "Shit.  That's why you've been gone a week."

 

"I'm sorry I left you here - mom wanted me to stay the whole week, so -"

 

"Nah, I've been having fun - I cleaned the place and filled the refrigerator."

 

"Oh, you didn't have to -"

 

"I've been worryin' about you.  What've you been livin' on?  All I could find to eat  was a box of stale cereal and a piece of green cheese."

 

I blushed.  "Take out.  Lunch at the studio, and I've been going to dinner with Lisa most nights."

 

"How is your sister?"

 

"In her freshman year at Cal State.  Still seeing Billy -"

 

"Poor SOB."

 

"She's got a job lined up in Jersey this summer for the two of them."

 

"He told me about that.  She know how serious he is?"

 

I smirked.  "She's already picked out her diamond."

 

"I'll repeat what I said.  Poor SOB."

 

"How's New York?"  I sat down at the table.

 

He placed the bacon on the table and took my hand.  "I got something to tell you about that.  But right now, let's dance."

 

"Whatt're we going to use for music?  I don’t have a record player - sold it for rent one week."

 

His expression showed disapproval.  "You can hum, right?"

 

We locked our positions.  "On the two," I said gravely.  He laughed, and we were off.

 

Dancing with Johnny Castle told me everything I had worried about proved foolish - we loved each other.  We moved as one person and could finish each other's movements without thinking.   It didn’t' matter that the only music given us were his humming and the pounding of my downstairs neighbor - to us it was the finest orchestra in the world. 

 

 

***

 

Much later, we lay on my dusty fold-out couch, curled naked against my cheap red blankets in the cool night air.  My lips against his shoulder, my knee pressing his thigh felt romantic but comforting - I remember reading Pride and Prejudice with Lisa under the covers, wishing for my own romance - it wasn't quite Jane Austen, but it made me completely happy.

 

"You want to hear my news?"

 

His words were a rush of icy water in my cozy world.  I pulled back a little.  "Go ahead."

 

"I quit Domino's.'

 

I shot up in bed.  "You're moving to California?"

 

He shook his head.  "I got five hundred saved up for the ride.  You gotta come with me, Baby - you're made for New York."

 

I faltered, struggling against gravity and the mattress.  "You want me to move to New York?"

 

"There are auditions everywhere - shows opening and closing all the time.  If we can both get work, and with your talent, you sure as hell will be able to get work..."

 

"You planned this whole thing without telling me..."

 

"...and until then, Billy..."

 

"We're going to be living with Billy?  How does he know about this?"

 

"Where do you think I got the idea from?  He's in a chorus - didn't Lisa tell you that?"

 

"She said he was teaching dance in Jersey..." I searched for my peasant blouse beneath the covers, wanting the distance and rational clothing provided.

 

"You've got four months to think it over," he rubbed my arm, treating me like an upset child.  "Billy's getting the new place in April."

 

I watched his hand dance across my arm - every part of Johnny could dance.  Even his words.  "What made you think I'd go with you?"

 

Johnny sat up and slipped his arms around me.  "You like danger and adventure.  You were born to dance.  You want to change the world.  And New York's the biggest little city in America."

 

My lover made me smile.  "What am I gonna tell my parents?"

 

Johnny pulled me back under the covers, into the bed.  "Easy.  You're playing bingo with elderly New Yorkers."

 

He also hadn't forgotten how to make me laugh.


Next