“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…?”
“When a dream is deferred again and again…it will eventually explode. It’s a perfect analogy for us.”
He rolled on his side and turned her head toward him. “You are the best of me, Jennifer Delaney. I’ve never stopped loving you, and this I promise — no one will ever love you more than I do.”
Her tears flowed, and he covered her mouth gently with his fingers. “You don’t have to say anything. Your heart still hasn’t caught up to that beautiful head of yours.”
She hated herself, she hated that he was right. “You once said you knew me better than I know myself. Maybe that’s why you don’t give up. I did date other guys, Doug, but…” She shook her head. “I never got too involved.”
“You were waiting for me.”
Her Doug had a huge romantic streak. “Nope. Sorry.” She brushed back his usual hank of hair from his forehead, then turned her face into the pillow. “I wasn’t waiting, Doug. In fact, I tried to forget you. Loving and losing is hard even when accepting half the blame, so I sure wasn’t ready to jump back into the fray with someone else.”
“I felt exactly the same way, Jen. But now I’m willing to fight for my happiness.
What about you?”
##
She put the question behind her the next day as she made her way to Radio City Music Hall. Doug had told her that morning, “Go have fun. Be a tourist. Take a bite of the apple!”
