Magic of the Heart

by C. J. Harte

  “He left not long after you did. He’s got depositions out of town for the next three days.” Derek turned to Maggie. “And I have an interview tomorrow with ESPN. Good night, ladies. Maggie, congratulations one more time.”

  After Derek was gone, Maggie sat in one of the bar chairs. “God, what a wonderful evening. Would you believe I had people coming up to me and asking me to call them? Some of those fuckers wouldn’t even return my calls five years ago. Screw them all.” She sat her Oscar on the table.

  Susan tried to smile but her encounter with Gina Perry still worried her. “I am proud of you.”

  Maggie grinned. “Me too. I’m proud of me.”

  “Maggie, I hate to be a nag, but what about Gina Perry?”

  “Oh, God, Susan. I don’t want to talk about her now. Can we just drop it?”

  “Okay. What do you want to do instead?”

  Maggie walked over and pulled Susan into a tight embrace. “I want to fuck your brains out.”

  Susan could feel arousal starting but the need to talk was stronger this time. She pulled back. “Later? Okay?”

  “I am so turned on right now. I’m not sure I can wait. And…I have a photo shoot, an interview, and Karl may be working on a three-picture deal. So you better grab me while you can.”

  “I thought we were going to spend time together.”

  “We have. We will. Right now, I’m a hot property and I have to take advantage of this opportunity. Karl also thinks there’s interest in shooting some footage of my tour and then selling it to HBO or Showtime.” She grinned at Susan. “Don’t you want some of me?”

  “You know I want you, but right now I would love to have some quiet time and just talk. Like an ordinary couple. Talk about our day, our plans. It seems we haven’t had much time together and when we are, we’re either in bed or arguing.”

  “Give me a break.” Maggie walked around the room. “Don’t you get it? I don’t have a nine-to-five job. I can’t predict what’s going to happen, when I’ll have another opportunity like this, or when I’ll have down time. I need to make the most of whatever happens.”

  “Why is it that we rarely talk about us, about our future, about our plans, about our challenges? Except when you want to talk. You make decisions for us and don’t even consult me. Then you claim you have to hide our relationship. Why is it you’ve been telling me that you need to keep your sexual orientation hidden, all of sudden you don’t care that Gina Perry is determined to out you?”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Susan, why do you always have to mess things up?”

  “Me? Mess things up?”

  “This is one of the greatest nights, er, days of my life, and you want to talk about Gina Perry. I want to talk about me. Do you know how hard I’ve worked to get where I am? No one helped me. I worked damn hard and I’m still working hard. Do you have any idea what I go through on tour? Why can’t you let me enjoy this?”

  “I’ve told you how proud I am of what you have done, how excited I am for you. What more do you want?” Susan was beginning to get angry. Fatigue and confusion had taken its toll.

  “Nothing, Susan. Just leave me alone. I don’t need this. I’ve got a photo shoot and interviews and I don’t need to be listening to this. I just want to enjoy my success for once without any heavy conversation.” Maggie stomped out of the room. By the time she had showered, dressed, and returned to the kitchen, Susan was gone. Searching through the house was fruitless. Finally she ran outside. Susan was sitting on the steps with her luggage nearby.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Home, Maggie. Where I belong. I know this is a big time for you and I’m sorry if I ruined it. I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t understand your life, but I’m trying. I’m not going to just make myself available and then sit around and wait for you to make time for me. And I’m not going to let anyone talk to me the way you just did.”

  “What a drama queen. I flew here to be with you.”

  “No, you flew here for the Oscars, and I flew here to be with you.” She looked at her watch. “I’ve been here nearly sixty hours and, excluding sleep and sex, you and I have spent less than ten of those hours together.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes and wondered how the day had fallen apart. “I’m sorry, but this is my career. And this is my chance to solidify my future, make some money, plan my future.”

  “What future? Being richer or becoming more famous?”

  “Both. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing, Maggie, except I don’t find any room for me.” She grabbed her bags and started toward the approaching cab.

  “If you leave, it’s over,” Maggie shouted.

  Susan stopped and took a deep breath. “My feelings don’t change that quickly. If you figure out where I fit in your life, you know how to get in touch.” Her throat tightened and she struggle to keep from crying. “I still love you.”

  “Yeah. And you’re walking out on me, like everyone else.”

  *

  Troubled dreams kept Maggie from sleeping. Her anger and comments the previous day haunted her. She had avoided thinking about Susan’s leaving by immersing herself in the demands of her latest award. At ten she decided to get up and start preparing for the interviews, then she could devote the rest of the day to the tour. As she was dressing, the phone ring. Sure that it was Susan calling and apologizing, she said, “Hello, and no need to apologize.”

  “Hello to you, and I don’t know what I’ve done.”

  “Derek, sorry, I was expecting someone else. I didn’t check the caller ID. What’s up? How did the interview go?”

  “Great. I’m heading to the airport now. What are you and Susan doing tonight?”

  “She’s not here. She left yesterday.”

  “I thought she was staying until tomorrow. What happened?”

  “I don’t know. I wanted us to celebrate and she kept wanting to talk about problems. Can’t she give that a rest for a few days?”

  “Maggie, do you ever think about how your behavior affects other people? I know we’ve all been guilty of giving in.”

  “Giving in. What are you talking about? I’m the one who does the giving in. I give, give, give. Well, I’m tired of it.”

  “This may surprise you, but there are some people in your life who are not takers. Susan is one.”

  “She’ll change her mind.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Deflated, she sat in the nearest chair. “I don’t believe it. She’ll call.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Maggie gave an abbreviated version of events. “Maybe I should fly to Orlando.”

  “And do what? You have interviews and appointments you agreed to. You have no free time left until your plane leaves to rejoin the tour. You really screwed up this time.”

  “What are you talking about? I can’t believe she left. She’s just like everyone else.” Tears rushed out and a deep dark pit settled in the middle of her chest “I don’t cry, and this woman makes me cry! Fuck her.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Coming back from California, Susan felt death was preferable to the constant pain in her heart. She avoided dealing with her feelings, filling her time with any activity that didn’t require serious thought. She tried to move her family back to Winter Park, but reluctantly agreed to a compromise. She was a nomad, traveling back and forth between the two houses. Neither one felt like home, and both held too many memories of Maggie. No place was safe.

  Her life returned to a fixed schedule—leaving for work and returning home at the same time every day. She forced herself into an orderly life.

  Three weeks later, the phone rang at three in the morning. Groggy, Susan reached for the phone fearing something terrible had happened to her sister and her family. It was Maggie calling from Poland. A rowdy party in the background made conversation difficult.

  “Guess what? We sold out in fucking Poland.”

  “Congratulations.” S
usan was slowly waking up and wondering why Maggie was calling.

  “Next week, I have the whole week. I was on the Internet and found a wonderful villa to rent on Lake Como in northern Italy. We could have a wonderful week there. I can have the ticket at the airport today.”

  “No, Maggie.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  Susan kept her voice calm. “My boss, my family, and my job need me,” she said. “You don’t.”

  “Ow, that hurts.”

  For one brief instant Susan thought about apologizing, but she had yet to hear an apology from Maggie.

  “Listen, Susan, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  “It’s three in the morning. I’m really tired and I need to get some sleep.” Susan knew that if she talked much longer she would be pulled back into Maggie’s life.

  “I’m sorry. I forgot about the time change. I am really serious about you coming over. I…I miss you. Hey, quiet down. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

  “I’ve got to go,” Susan said and quickly hung up.

  *

  “Fuck her,” Maggie muttered as she slammed the phone down. “Who the hell is she? Hanging up on me.”

  “Hey, boss, what’s up? Why aren’t you partying with us?” Maggie’s guitar tech Blair downed another shot of Polish vodka. “This stuff is good. I wonder if we can take a case back.”

  “Sure. Arrange it.” Maggie walked off, looking for a quiet place. Her life was coming unglued. Needing a quiet place, she returned to her room, trying to lock out the loneliness and the fear growing inside her.

  *

  Hanging up on Maggie didn’t make her go away. Three of her current releases received frequent air play. Susan started listening to classical music. At the office, Maggie was the frequent topic of conversation. Susan hid in her office. Paul called at least once a week. While she enjoyed talking to him, he served as a reminder of Maggie.

  By the time Susan was able to get through a day, Maggie again called. Susan was at a meeting and her mother answered. When she got home, her mother nagged her to call Maggie back. Susan postponed calling, hoping the urge, and the need, would go away. It didn’t. Reluctantly, she dialed.

  *

  Maggie poured herself a drink. God, she wanted Susan. Why didn’t she call? Looking around the room, she knew there were a half dozen women in this room she could have sex with. Willing, easy women. No questions asked. Why, then, did she still want Susan?

  “Did you say something? Want something, M.J.?” An attractive, short redhead slipped onto her lap, leaving no doubt what she was offering. Maggie wasn’t interested. She barely heard the phone ringing over the noise. Blair handed her the phone.

  Maggie tried to get rid of the woman on her lap. “Susan, hey, wait a minute.” Moving the phone aside, she said, “Cut it out. Leave me alone, damn it.” By the time she returned to the phone, Susan had hung up. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

  Stumbling over to the bar, she poured another drink, and then another. She was well into getting drunk when the redhead began to nibble on her neck. Why not? she thought. Pulling the woman close, Maggie began kissing and caressing her.

  “Rhonda, my name is Rhonda.”

  “What?” Maggie muttered.

  “My name is Rhonda. You called me Susan.”

  Angry, Maggie stood, dropping the redhead on the floor. “Get out. All of you, get out!”

  “What’s the matter, boss?” Alarmed by the shouting, Blair rushed up.

  “Get everyone out of here. Now.” Maggie slammed the door, leaving the group stunned.

  The next day began with a frustrated Maggie finishing off the bottle of bourbon and going back to bed. At two, the phone ringing roused her enough to reach for it. “Susan?”

  “Afraid not. Hi, honey. Sorry. Has Susan called? Are you okay? You sound funny.”

  “Hi, Derek. I’m okay. Long night. I was just getting up. We leave for New York tonight. I’m getting tired of traveling. How are you? How’s Paul? The kids?”

  “That’s part of the reason I’m calling. We thought we’d meet you in New York and spend some time together. How does that sound?”

  Maggie tried to focus, but was losing the battle. “What? I’m sorry.”

  “Maggie, are you okay?”

  “I told you I’m tired. I screwed up.” She brushed away a tear before continuing, “And Susan hung up on me yesterday. This has been one shitty week.”

  “I’m sorry. Listen, we’ll be at the airport when you arrive in New York. What can I do?”

  “I don’t know. Why won’t she talk to me?” Realizing how tentative her sanity was, she changed the topic long enough to talk to the kids. Later, her head pounding, she packed and headed for the airport.

  *

  As Derek, Paul, and the kids greeted Maggie, cameras and microphones recorded every moment. “Who the hell called the press?” Maggie yelled as she crawled into the car.

  “Hey, Maggie, calm down,” Paul said. “You’re scaring the kids.”

  “Sorry, I’m tired. I told Karl no press. When I find out who did this, I’m going to fire him or her.”

  “Maybe your tour sponsors are doing this.”

  “I don’t fucking care who.”

  Derek spoke through clenched teeth. “Your language, please.”

  Maggie put her head on the back of the seat and went to sleep. She woke up when they arrived at the hotel. “I’m tired. Come on.” She took her kids’ hands and walked into the hotel lobby, where she was greeted by the day supervisor who personally escorted her to the penthouse elevator.

  “Have a good day, Ms. Carson.”

  When they arrived in the suite, Maggie excused herself long enough to shower and change clothes. When she returned to the living area, she found dinner had arrived. She played with the kids for a few minutes and then went to bed.

  The next morning Maggie was cheerful and rested. Tension was thick, but she was determined to ignore it.

  “Do you want to talk about Susan?” Derek asked.

  “Nope!” Smiling, she changed the topic. “What have you two been up to?”

  “Maggie,” Derek began hesitantly, “I’ve been approached to speak at National Coming Out Day in Los Angeles. I said no, but I may want to at some time. I’m not the only gay man in the NFL, but we’re all too afraid. Maybe I can help to open the door.”

  “What about your career?” Maggie’s own fears drove her questions more than her concern about Derek’s future.

  “You know we talked about someday coming out. There is never a perfect time. It’s more a matter of our choosing the right time before we’re forced to deal with someone else outing us.”

  The years of hiding were a part of her. She wasn’t sure she would know how to not be afraid. Then she remembered the last argument in California with Susan. She had said she didn’t care. Which was it? “Have you heard from Susan?”

  “We’ve been talking to Susan at least once a week. We also spent Labor Day weekend with her and her family. She’s still in love with you.”

  “You what? I can’t believe this. I thought you were on my side.”

  “This is not about sides,” Paul said. “This is about friendship. She’s a friend. Our friend and your friend.”

  “Friend? She’s not my friend. I’ve made numerous attempts to talk to her, at least six or seven times, and in the last six months she’s only called once. Once. I’ve repeatedly tried to get her to join me for a short vacation—anywhere in the world. She keeps saying no. She’s too busy. The first chance I get away from my tour, I invite her to join us. She leaves without even saying good-bye. What do you want me to do? Bow down and kiss her feet?” She paced around the room. “In the last five years, I have been sexually involved with one woman. One! And I was saving myself for this. Fuck that. What else could I have done? I tried to do everything Susan asked. What more could I do?”

  “How many times did you tell her you love her?” Derek asked. “How many times did you
ask her what she wanted to do? How many times did you call her in the middle of the day and just say you were thinking about her? You and I are so used to having things our way. Paul and Susan are not people you buy.”

  “How many times did she call me? How many times did she include me in her plans? How many times did I walk out on her? I tried, Derek. But Susan always wanted more.” Feeling her emotions drowning her, she stopped. “Enough. I’m going to bed.” She stopped, took a deep breath, and then said, “Paul, I’m sorry. You’ve been a good friend. I don’t know what I’d do without the two of you. You are my only friends.”

  “Believe it or not, Susan is too. She still loves you,” Paul said.

  “Thanks for the advice,” she answered angrily and fled to her bedroom. She leaned against the closed door and cried. “God, Susan, I need you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The rehearsal went badly. Maggie was irritable with the band, the technical crew, with everyone. The hole inside her gnawed and grew.

  Performing was raw energy. She had forgotten how it felt. The power. The control.

  They had six upcoming concerts scheduled in the South—Nashville, Memphis, New Orleans, Miami, Orlando, and then Atlanta. Maggie was looking forward to returning to Atlanta. It was the Orlando concert she feared the most. Every night she was haunted by memories of Susan.

  In New Orleans, she sat up all night after the concert. She put the picture of Susan that she carried everywhere on the bedside table as she wrote. “What a kick. I’ve written this one for you. I’ve wanted to say these things to you, but I didn’t know how. Now, maybe it’s too late.” She touched Susan’s picture and put it back on the table. Satisfied with her work, she was able to sleep soundly, if only for a few hours, for the first time in months.

  The next day was an off-day and then a day of travel. She called her band together midmorning. “I’ve written some new music. I want to include it in the show. Tell me what you think.” The band listened for the next twenty minutes as she went through each song.