The Dislocated Man, Part One by Tim Greaton, Larry Donnell Page B

ear until strains of the Kiss ballad “Beth” poked through the din . Wordlessly they made their way to the floor and enjoyed the sway in time. After two decades together, they had an unspoken rhythm that was at once familiar and exotic. Date nights with Hannah always confirmed what Jack had known since the day they met: she was the perfect woman for him. By the time “Beth” transformed into “Lady” by Styx, the party around them had faded into a wash of surreal sound. It was only Hannah and Jack, Jack and Hannah.
    “You are amazing ,” h e breathed.
    “That is so true Jack , ” s he whispered , “ b ut it ’s very nice of you to notice. You’re not so bad yourself.”
    “That was a little weak as far as compliments go, Mrs. Werth , ” h e said, nibbling her ear.
    “I prefer to give my compliments at home , ” she said.
    “Not fair , ” he countered, running his hand up and down her waist. “I still have to wait for Bonnie and Clyde to give their yearly ‘make us some money’ inspirational speech. That’s probably two hours away.”
    “ You know I could have sworn I brought my pills but they’re not in my bag , ” s he told him. “ Nobody went near it when I went to the ladies’ room earlier, did they? ”
    “No way ,” Jack said. “ I was like the secret service for that purse . ” Then, more seriously, “That’s not like you to forget.”
    “I know but…well, I must have left them on the dresser or something. I’ll just have to go home and get them. That’s all.”
    Jack stopped dancing.
    “I don’t want you driving, not without your medication.” Hannah had been diagnosed with a mild form of epilepsy several years earlier. It had taken three different drugs and almost six months for her to get her driver’s license back. Though she had never had a seizure while driving, he didn’t want to imagine the possibility.
    “You’ll have to take a cab , ” h e told her.
    Hannah pouted for a moment then nodded.
    “You could... c ome with.” Her long nail painted a tracery on his chest.
    “God, I want to. You know I do.”
    “But you’re going to stay.”
    “Ye ah, I have to .”
    “Okay , ” s he said. “It shouldn’t take me long. Save the horizontal dancing for me, or else.” Her exaggerated snarl made him laugh.
    “Okay, okay.” He started to say something else but paused.
    “What, Jack?”
    “I should go with you. Tipsy hot woman, cab, miscreant driver; all the earmarks of—”
    “Jack, Jack. Stop right there. I’ll take Yellow Cab, the one we use for the kids. Their drivers have always been good.”
    “I just worry about you.”
    “I’m the one who should be worried.” She pointed at the cluster of empty glasses on the table. “Promise me you’re going to behave.”
    “Okay , ” h e agreed. “Less drinking and more face time with the real miscreants of the world.”
    She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips.
    “You do realize you’re one of those investment banker miscreants, right?”
    “Yeah, but I’ve been forced into it by my gold-digging wife who always wants more luxuries…like food and clothes for the kids. Next you’ll want to college educate them.”
    “Maybe we should get them out of elementary school first , ” s he s uggested . “I better get home. I’m feeling a little warm.”
    “See, I should go with you.”
    Hannah gazed into her husband’s eyes. “Really, babe, it’s okay. I’ll be right back.”
    Knowing he was just being foolish, he nodded and watched her sway toward the far end of the conference hall where she would find her coat and the exit. At the last minute, she turned and waved. Something about her smile made him regret not going. He got up but then watched as she disappeared through the door.
    The next hour was nearly as arduous as he had imagined. He moved toward the brown-nosing end of the hall where brokers wore permanent smiles and spouses aggressively flirted upward. Jack didn’t know for