Every Touch (12 page)

   He’d learned some things about the human psyche during the time he’d dated a therapist, so appreciated that a coping mechanism was a useful thing to have.  Actually, Cathy had been
his
therapist until it became clear to him that a more intimate relationship with her was going to do a lot more for his general mental well-being than therapy sessions and he’d stopped the therapy so he could ask her out.  And he’d been right, it had.  Plus, she’d thrown some vignettes of therapy in for free, when they were lying together in bed after the frequent psyche-blowing sex.  It had been a win-win situation for both of them.  Until she found someone smarter than him.  Well, not smarter, just more educated.  Denny knew Cathy had always regarded their relationship as just fun, something to distract her until she found Mr Right with a PhD to match hers.  And five months after they had got together, she did and that was that. 

   When he really thought about it, that had been a theme to many of his relationships.  He was like a stepping stone, a fun time without it getting too serious, for most of the women he had dated.  It always seemed to go along the lines of, “I like you, you’re lots of fun, the sex is great, but you’re not lifelong commitment material.”   

   It hadn’t bothered him too much before because that was more or less the way he always expected things to go.  It occurred to Denny that, if he had met Laila when he was alive, any relationship between them may have gone the same way.  At least, as it was, he wouldn’t need to deal with rejection from the one woman from whom he wouldn’t be able to take it. 

   He tried to take comfort from that and established a way to work with the situation. 

   When Laila was away from the flat, at work or with Kelly or, very occasionally, out with a friend or co-workers, he would go about his normal routine.  He kept up with the other people in the building, played Eric’s piano, hung out at the door with Oliver.  Behaved as he normally would.

   When Laila was home, however, he spent his time with her, doing things any couple would do.  They hung out, he chatted to her, they watched TV together, they ate together.  Or rather, she ate and he watched and talked and sometimes salivated.  He did sometimes wonder if it was reasonable behaviour in the circumstances, but as he wasn’t aware of anything to compare it to, he had nothing to judge what reasonable behaviour should be. 

   He had rules, however. Or rather, one rule.  He always treated her with respect, which meant that, even though he was so attracted to her there were times when he would just stand and stare at her in awe, he gave her her privacy.  He didn’t even know what she looked like naked.  Although the amount of time he spent thinking about it was ridiculous.

   Most of the time, the frustration he felt was eclipsed by the simple joy of being with her.

   When Laila watched TV, Denny would sit next to her on the sofa and watch with her.  Sometimes they would both laugh at something funny at the same time and then he would look at her, her face lit up with her incredible smile, and know he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

   One morning, about three months after she’d moved in, he returned to the flat after a couple of hours playing piano to the sound of music.  He walked into the living room and found Laila singing along to
You Light Up My Life
, which was playing on the radio.

   He stood watching her in amazement.  It was the first time he’d ever heard her sing and he couldn’t ever remember hearing anything so beautiful.  She was cleaning up in the kitchen, but every now and then she would stop and close her eyes and pour her heart into the words.  Tears rose to Denny’s eyes as he watched her.  After a while, he hesitantly joined in. 

   He used to love to sing, when he was alive.  He was the king of karaoke.  When he was young he’d even thought that maybe he could do it professionally.  But real life and the need to eat and have somewhere to live had put a dampener on that.  And then real death.  He had hardly sung at all since he died. 

   But he knew the song, so he began to sing with her, adding his tenor harmonies to her soprano.  Their voices blended perfectly, sounding to Denny like they were made to go together. 

   As the song ended she stood still, looking around her as if she was searching for something, her expression surprised.  Had she heard him?  No, that wasn’t possible.  Was it?

   She shook her head and shrugged, returning to wiping down the work surfaces.  He stood and watched her, a tear sliding slowly down his cheek.

   Denny was able to endure the pain of unrequited love by being with the object of his adoration and, for the most part, it was working.

   That was until one day, four months after she had moved in, his carefully constructed little utopia with Laila came crashing down around him.

A date.  An actual date. 

   Laila couldn’t quite believe she’d said yes.  So it was only coffee, but that still counted as a date.  The butterflies that had sprung into action in her stomach when Avery had asked her out were still fluttering furiously as she walked home from her job at the library. 

   She wasn’t entirely surprised when he did ask.  He’d been coming into the library every day for the past two weeks, always managing to come up with a question to ask her and always going to her to check out his books, claiming ignorance of how the automatic check-in/out machines worked.  And she’d seen him watching her.  She was fairly sure he was only coming to the library now to see her, judging by his completely random selection of books and the fact that, unless he was the world’s fastest speed reader, he was bringing them back far too quickly.  But she didn’t mind.  She had found herself looking forward to his daily visits.  And today, he had finally asked her out which had brought on the severe butterfly attack.

   She was ridiculously nervous.  She hadn’t been on a date since Gary and after she’d left him she had wondered if she would ever want to go on a date again.  For Laila, this was a huge step.  But maybe it would help.  Avery seemed like such a nice person, someone with whom she felt as if she could ease herself slowly back into trusting a man.  She didn’t want what had happened to her to ruin her life.  She didn’t want Gary to have that victory.  She wanted to be normal again, carefree, happy.  Not afraid.  Avery seemed like he would let her go at her own pace, be patient with her.  She needed that. 

   Also, he was hot.  That definitely helped.

   When she reached her flat she went straight to the wardrobe to look at her clothes.  Her mind instantly went blank.  She didn’t have a clue what to wear.  Was she really that out of practice?  It had only been a year and a half since she’d had a first date.  She picked up her phone and dialled.

   “’Sup?”

   Laila smiled at her sister’s usual phone greeting.  “I have a date.”

   There was a moment’s silence on the other end of the line.  “Who with?” Kelly demanded.

   Laila rolled her eyes.  She’d been afraid of her sister’s reaction.  Kelly had a tendency to be overprotective. 

   “A guy I met at the library.  He’s been coming in for a couple of weeks.”

   “So you don’t know anything about him?”

   “No, I’ve only just met him.  Isn’t that what dates are for?  To get to know people?”

   “I know, but... are you sure?”

   “Kelly, you were always the one who said I needed to move on from Gary.  This is me moving on.  Be happy for me.”

   She heard her sister sigh.  “I know, I’m sorry.  It’s just, I worry about you.”

   “I know you do, and I wish you wouldn’t so much.”

   “Well, what’s his name?”

   “Avery.”

   There was a pause.  “Are you serious?”

   Laila burst into laughter.  “Of course I’m serious!  I know, it’s unusual...”

   “It’s weird.”

   “...but I kind of like it.”

   Kelly snorted.  “Where are you going?”

   “Just for coffee at a local place.  Very public, lots of people around.”

   “Okay.  Well, tell me about him.  What’s he like?”

   “Well, he’s tall, dark hair, I’d say late twenties.  Very polite and nice.  Sweet really.”

   “Hot?”

   Laila smiled.  “Very hot.”

   Kelly laughed.  “Of course he is.  You always attract the hot ones.”

   “So do you,” she replied, giggling.

   “True.  What are you going to wear?”

   “That,” she said, switching her full attention to the clothes hanging on the rail in front of her, “is my problem.”

*

Denny watched in dismay from his place sitting on the bed as Laila searched through her wardrobe and discussed outfit selections with Kelly for her date. 

   Her
date
.  With another man. 

   He always knew that one day this would happen.  Laila was beautiful and sexy and funny and warm and all the other things that had made him fall in love with her.  It stood to reason another man would see that in her too.  But this was too soon.  He wasn’t anywhere near ready to let her go.  He didn’t want her to be a hermit for the rest of her life, just until he was no longer around, whenever that would be. 

   “Okay, so the blue dress?...  yes, with the denim jacket...  Okay, thanks Kel, I’ll call you when I get home.”

   She hung up and started to unbutton the blouse she’d worn to work.  Denny turned away so he wouldn’t see her and looked out the window. 

   Maybe it would go badly.  Maybe this creep who hung around in libraries just so he could pick up beautiful, wonderful, vulnerable women wouldn’t like her.  No, that wasn’t going to happen.  This was Laila, of course he’d like her.  But maybe she wouldn’t like him. 

   Denny closed his eyes.  Please, he thought, please don’t like him.

   When he opened his eyes again, she was walking into his line of sight as she opened her jewellery box and took out a necklace with a blue pendant attached.

   “Oh no,” Denny said, standing up. “
Hell
no.”  He walked across the room to her.  “You can’t wear that, it is
way
too short,” he said in exasperation. “He will get totally the wrong idea.” 

   He looked down at her perfectly shaped long legs, far too much of which were visible below the hemline of her blue dress, the one with the little flowers on that he loved her in but was completely inappropriate for a first date in a coffee shop with a man she hardly knew and would find boring and dull anyway.  His distress deepened as she removed her worn short denim jacket from the wardrobe and put it on over the dress, rolling the sleeves up to just below her elbows.  She looked too cute for words.  Much too cute for any other man to see. 

   “Wouldn’t you prefer your baggy jeans and that huge beige jumper that goes almost down to your knees?” he pleaded desperately.  “You know, the one you only wear around the flat?  I’m sure you wouldn’t be too warm.” 

   In truth, he even loved her in that, but it was as sexy and revealing as a hessian sack.

   She looked at herself in the mirror and nodded.  “Not too shabby,” she said.

   Denny ran his hand through his hair.  “Not too shabby?!” 

   She looked gorgeous.  It was a disaster.

   He lingered as she freshened her make-up, then followed her through to the living room, watching her grab her handbag and then walk to the door where she stopped.  He walked over to her. 

   Normally, he would have been willing her to have the courage to overcome her fear, but this time he couldn’t. 

   “Please don’t go,” he whispered.  He raised his hand to her face, brushing his incorporeal fingers against her cheek.  “Don’t go on the date.  Stay with me.”

   She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then opened the door and walked out.  Denny closed his eyes and slumped against the wall.

   After a minute or so he straightened and walked back into the bedroom and out onto the balcony, waiting for Laila to emerge from the building and then watching her walk purposefully along the street.  He longed for her to stop, turn around and come back, but she didn’t.  He leaned his head against the barrier, his hope fading with each step she took away from him.  Eventually she turned a corner out of sight and he closed his eyes, despair welling up inside him.

   “Denny!”

   He opened his eyes at the sound of his name being called and saw Oliver waving up at him.  He waved back, thankful for the distraction. 

   “I’m coming down,” he called and headed back inside.

   “Dude, you look like someone’s just dug up your grave,” Oliver said when Denny reached the lobby.

   “Laila has a date,” he said, slumping down onto the floor and leaning against the barrier.

   “Oh man, that’s harsh.”  Oliver sat down on the steps outside the door.  “Who with?”

   “Some creepy guy she met at the library.”

   “Have you seen him?  Is he that bad?”  Oliver looked worried.  “Maybe I should go and keep an eye on her.”