“Besides,” he continued. “I can bunk in with Steve Kantor when you’re not around. Hopefully, you’ll meet him this weekend. He knows the business and we’re good friends. Actually, I want to introduce you to everyone, and I’ll also take you on a personal tour backstage after the matinee.”

Jen absorbed his words and nodded. He was anxious that she understand his world. To make her part of it. Did he simply want to educate her so they could have lively conversations? Or did he want her buy-in so she’d consider making a change in the future? A future that was becoming more definite. In his quiet way, Doug was like a five-star general executing a complex campaign.

##

They stopped off for dinner half-way through the almost five-hour drive, but

Doug’s mind seemed to be elsewhere. “Just order me anything.”

“We’re standing in line in a fast food joint,” she said. “Hamburger or chicken?”

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “I really don’t want to linger over dinner. Next time we’ll fly.”

She pressed herself against him. “Hey. What’s wrong? It’s your first time back since you moved. Are you facing a reality check of some kind?”

He snuggled her in close. “The usual. Only twenty-four hours in a day. I’m going to be buried in work the entire weekend.” He looked sad, and so apologetic.

“I know that. Business is business behind the scenes. The audience is having all the fun.” She reached for their food order and led the way to a table.

“If it will make you feel better, we don’t see the starting quarterback of the Boston Riders very much during the season either. He comes, he goes, he sleeps.”

His grin slowly emerged. “Then I owe him another one.”

“Oh?”

“I once told him I’d hoped to make my own kind of touchdowns one day. And he shook my hand.” Doug spoke as he unwrapped his burger. “Eat up.”

Jen nodded, but was thinking about her brother-in-law. “Mike’s living the American dream himself. Why wouldn’t he encourage you?”

Doug’s brows rose, his eyes widened. “A career in the arts? C’mon Jen. Most people couldn’t imagine it. In fact, they’d discourage it.”

But she’d always loved his work. “Forget about your dad. You’re proving him wrong.”

“But now I see he’s got a point. There really is no guarantee every show will be successful.” He gathered her hands into his larger one. “I’ve got to be honest here, Jen.” His eyes darkened; his voice was intense. Not knowing what to

expect, she took a breath.

“You’re scaring me, Doug,” she began, her fingers pressing back against his.

“You’ve always been honest with me. So why is today different?”

He cleared his throat. “Today is different,” he began slowly, “because for the first time, I’m going to New York with you. I’ve always imagined it and now it’s real.” Leaning forward, he cupped her face with his hands. “Jennifer Delaney, I want you in my life, and I know for that to happen—because of your need for security, your need to feel safe—I must tell you how I make my living.”

“You’ve already told me you were fine. I believed you. Shouldn’t I have?” He’d been open with her, so she’d thought.

“I am fine, Jen, stable. And plan to continue that way. But...you never know for sure. The best-laid plans and all that…. And I know that will make you nervous.”

She didn’t respond, just held her hand up like a cop and thought about his words.

“You’re right about me,” she finally said. “I need some control. But you work hard and have common sense. I don’t think you’d let yourself starve.”

Then came his laughter, his warm, deep laughter that always stirred her heart.

“Only you could come up with that. I love it! Common sense is what most people think creative types don’t have.”

She chuckled with him. “But I know you better than that, Doug. You’re not a

‘type.’ You’re unique. At least, to me you are.” From laughter to tears. She was on a roller-coaster. “Wh-when you left….it had absolutely nothing to do with money or earning a living or anything like that. And—and as far as I’m concerned, it still doesn’t.”

And suddenly he was on her side of the booth, cradling her in his arms, kissing her all over her cheeks and mouth and mumbling things about love and royalties.

She started to listen and then to laugh again. His earnest explanations of royalties earned on tickets sold, teaching stints, writing ad copy, editing scripts or even tending bar had her amazed.

“So that’s the way it works,” he offered. “A playwright does what he needs to do

to feed his habit—writing new plays.”

“And you do it all,” she said. “Well, I know one adjective that could never describe you, Doug.”

He looked at her in inquiry. “Rich?”

But she shook her head. “No! Lazy. You’re not lazy. You’re ambitious. You’re talented. And with a little luck…you’ll have it all.”

She heard him inhale and looked up. “What?”

But he shook his head. “Ready to go?”

##

Their hotel room was half the size of Jen’s living room. The closet, the size of a linen closet at home.

“The Big Apple is looking kind of small to me,” said Jen, scanning the room in a second. “Actually, pretty tiny.”

“It’s mid-town real estate — in demand and scarce. It’s only a place to sleep.

We’ll be out and about most of the time.”

She moved closer. “Hey, I’m only teasing. I wouldn’t care if we stayed in a cave as long as you accomplish what you’ve set out to do. And I’m sure you will.”

She stroked his cheek, the rim of his ear. “I believe in you.”

His eyes darkened, his lips parted, and she was in his arms. His mouth covered hers as a man starved for nourishment and she gave herself freely, gave herself to this one man she’d never forgotten. Together, they tore off the bedspread and found each other, undressed each other. Explored each other until there was no more time, until their pleasure surged from within.

Afterward, she couldn’t move. “My limbs are like burst balloons,” she whispered. “Weak.”

“Mine, too. It’s like the poet said — a dream deferred. Remember? Langston Hughes?”

“Uh…?”