Dear Cupid

by Julie Ortolon

“Mike ...” She pushed the hair back from her forehead.

  “I promised him, Kate. Don’t ask me to go back on that. Ask me to do anything else, but don’t ask me to break a promise to that kid.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself as her safe world crumbled a bit more. Outside, the car horn sounded again.

  “Look, I’ll make you a deal,” Mike said. “If you don’t interfere with Dylan and me, I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible until Friday night.” With one finger on her chin, he turned her face toward his and gave her a determined look. “After that, your reprieve is over. I want to spend time with you. Hell, I want to marry you. And I will. Even if I have to wear you down, bit by bit, until you’re finally ready to admit that you’re as crazy about me as I am about you.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “Mike—”

  “No.” He moved his finger to cover her lips. “You have all week to think about it. After that, my real campaign begins.”

  She hesitated, then nodded, too grateful for even a short reprieve to argue.

  “All right, then.” He placed a brief, chaste kiss on her lips, then rose and crossed to the door. With one hand on the knob, he turned back. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

  She nodded weakly as he closed the door behind him.

  The instant she was alone, tears slipped hot and fast down her cheeks. What was she going to do? It would be so easy to take this tumble—to believe Mike really did love her. But what if she was wrong?

  You’re going to have to learn to believe in yourself again.

  His words echoed in her mind. He was so right. She had lost faith in herself. How had he seen that so clearly? The past few weeks and years played back in her mind, again and again, making her cry harder.

  In an effort to escape her own thoughts, she went to the bedroom and sat at her desk. She gave a sad laugh when she realized habit alone had brought her there. She had no column to write. No e-mail to answer. The dark screen of her computer stared back at her like an eye that had gone blind.

  The crushing weight of loss bore down on her chest as she lifted her hand and placed it against the cool glass.

  Her eyes dropped to the stack of columns she’d printed out two days ago to appease Mike’s constant nagging. On top of them lay her handwritten notes on how to submit a query to a newspaper. She realized with sudden clarity she’d never believe anyone could love her until she rediscovered her love of herself. Until she recaptured that faith, she didn’t deserve Mike’s love.

  Some last spark of courage that had refused to die flared upward. She’d been a coward too long. And she was tired of hiding behind fear and weak excuses. With a trembling hand, she reached for the power switch and turned her computer on.

  Chapter 25

  ARE you sure she’s coming?” Mike asked as he peered through a crack in the stage’s backdrop.

  “Of course she’s coming,” Dylan assured him for the tenth time. “She’s my mom. You think she’d miss seeing me in a play?”

  “I guess you’re right.” Mike glanced over his shoulder in time to catch Dylan fidgeting with the white waistcoat of his costume. Mike had borrowed the top hat and tails from one of the live theaters downtown. All around them, kids dashed about in homemade costumes that ranged from tights and tutus to sixties beads and tie-dye T-shirts. Laughter ricocheted off the hard walls, punctuated by the squeak of tennis shoes on linoleum.

  After spending a week with this motley crew, Mike couldn’t help but think Dylan looked and acted the most professional of the whole dang lot. He couldn’t wait for Kate to see the boy onstage. Dylan was going to blow the socks off everyone in the audience.

  Now, if Kate would just show up! He turned back to the crack in the backdrop. The folding chairs in the cafeteria were filling up fast, but the one between Kate’s parents and the Davises remained empty. “I just don’t understand why she isn’t here yet. The play starts any minute.”

  “I told you,” Dylan said with the strained patience of a seven-year-old reasoning with the inferior intellect of an adult. “She had an appointment in town. But she’ll be here. Trust me. Moms live for this sort of thing.”

  “You’re right.” He let out a nervous breath. If only so much wasn’t riding on this night. He hadn’t talked to Kate in person in nearly a week—had only seen glimpses of her when he dropped Dylan off after their rehearsals. She’d peer at him through the kitchen window, or wave from the front porch. Every time, he longed to get out of the car and go to her. But he’d promised to give her these few days to think things over. Well, tonight her reprieve ended. From now on, he’d see her all he wanted. Unless she’d decided she didn’t want to see him at all. What would he do if she told him that after the play?

  “Five minutes!” Dylan’s teacher, Miss Marshall, called as she hurried past, clapping her hands. “Five minutes to curtain. Amy, honey, you need to keep your costume on. Kyle, how many times do I have to tell you to stop putting those drumsticks up your nose?”

  Mike faced Dylan, man to man. This would be Dylan’s first time before an audience, and since Mike’s job was all backstage, the boy would be out there alone. “Here, let me check your gear one more time.” Kneeling down, be felt Dylan’s rib cage to be sure the body harness was in place.

  “You sure I don’t look dorky?” Dylan asked.

  “Would I let you go out there if I thought you looked dorky?” Mike watched Dylan’s eyes travel wistfully toward Jason and Kyle in their rock ‘n’ roll leather and chains. “Hey.” He jostled the kid affectionately. “You’re gonna knock ‘em dead. I promise.”

  “As long as people don’t laugh at me.”

  “Just do it the way we practiced, and you’ll be a hit.”

  Dylan nodded bravely, but still looked less than convinced.

  “Last call.” The teacher made another pass through the room, clapping her hands. “Places everyone. Places.”

  “This is it, kid. Break a leg.” Mike held up his fist.

  “You too.” Dylan tapped his fist against Mike’s. “Break a leg.”

  “Thanks,” Mike breathed. Tonight I need all the luck I can get.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Where have you been?” Linda whispered furiously as Kate made her way past purses and knees to the middle of the row. The lights had already dimmed and the opening strains of music swelled from the speakers on either side of the stage.

  “I told you,” Kate whispered back as she found her seat in the dark. “I had an appointment.”

  “Well?” Linda asked, sounding more eager than irritated. “How did it go?”

  “Wonderful. Fabulous!” Excitement bubbled up inside her. “I can’t wait to tell you—”

  “Shhh!” an angry parent admonished from behind them.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Kate whispered, and turned her attention toward the stage. Keeping her secret while she sat between Linda and her mom would require an act of sheer will. But even if her son’s play weren’t starting, she’d have forced herself to wait. She wanted Mike to be the first to hear her news.

  Throughout the production, she fidgeted in her chair, unable to sit still. She felt charged with confidence, and ready to tackle the world for the first time in years.

  It felt good. And natural. As if she were finally back inside her own skin. For that she had Mike to thank. As she sat through the production, she realized now how silly she’d been. About a lot of things.

  Only when Linda nudged her did she realize the show was almost over. “I think Dylan’s next,” Linda whispered.

  “So soon?” Nervous excitement shot through her.

  “And now,” the teacher said, “Dylan Bradshaw brings you some movie magic, with a little help from a friend.”

  The curtain opened, revealing a blank stage with nothing but a large blue screen for a backdrop. Something exploded in the middle of the stage, sending up a plume of smoke. When the smoke cleared, Dylan stood before the screen, dressed as a magician, with a top hat, tails, cape, and cane.


  “In the theater,” Dylan said in a small, nervous voice, “magic is done with a little sleight of hand.”

  Tipping his top hat, he clumsily pulled out a bouquet of flowers. Then, making a face, he tossed the flowers over his shoulder. “Very boring.”

  The audience let out a small laugh, not quiet sure what to expect. Kate’s heart twisted in empathy. Her son was not a natural performer, and if he bombed, he’d die of embarrassment.

  “Which is why on the big screen”—Dylan held his arms out with the hat in one hand and the cane in the other—“we need something more. Something bigger. Like ... a big sleight of hand!”

  The blue screen came to life, and a giant hand appeared, reaching down as if to pluck Dylan off the stage. Dylan let out a holler and started to run. The hand grabbed him by the tails of his jacket, and to Kate’s utter shock, lifted him into the air. The Beatles tune “Magical Mystery Tour” boomed from the speakers as Dylan swung back and forth.

  Just as Kate thought she’d die of heart failure, the hand set Dylan back on the stage. Behind him flashed scenes from movies, starting with old black-and-whites and segueing to Technicolor musicals. In every scene the characters appeared to be moving in time to the music. Dylan danced right along with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. He turned his cane into a gun and shot it out with cowboys and gangsters. He danced on the rooftops of London with Dick Van Dyke, and wielded his cane like a light saber against Darth Vader. As the song drew to a close, a whole chorus line of alien creatures seemed to appear on the stage, dancing and playing their bizarre instruments as Dylan played his cane like a clarinet.

  When the final note of the music fell suddenly to silence, the blue screen went blank. Dylan stretched his arms out to either side and announced, “And that, my friends, is how we do magic in the movies!”

  The audience burst into wild applause as Dylan took his bow with all the panache of an orchestra conductor at Carnegie Hall. Kate clapped until her hands stung.

  The other children filed back onstage along with the teacher for the final number. As they sang “There’s No Business Like Show Business,” each act stepped forward for another bow. When Dylan’s turn came, Mike jogged onstage to join him. They did a little soft-shoe shuffle, bowed to each other, then bowed to the audience. Kate’s heart swelled with pride in her son and gratitude toward Mike as she watched their easy camaraderie. If any doubt had remained on how she felt about this man, it would have vanished then and there.

  “Oh, Katy,” her mother breathed as the curtain came down and the lights went up. “Wasn’t he grand, now?”

  “The hit of the show,” her father agreed.

  Several other parents waved at her and called out congratulations on her son’s performance. Kate simply nodded, eager to get backstage.

  “If y’all will excuse me,” she said to her parents and her friends.

  “Wait a second,” Linda called. “You didn’t tell me how your appointment went.”

  “I will,” Kate assured her as she made her way through the folding chairs. “Later.” First she had to see Mike.

  She started toward the doors by the stage, but something caught her eye and she turned. “Edward?” she whispered in disbelief as he came up the aisle. He looked as polished and handsome as ever, but for once she felt nothing at the sight of him. No anger, only surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  He shrugged and slipped his hands into the pockets of his dress slacks. “I had an appointment with a client today who lives out here at the lake. He mentioned the show tonight, and I remembered Dylan was supposed to be in it.”

  She waited for him to say something more, like that he’d been thinking about what she’d said and realized she was right, he needed to spend more time with his son. Instead, after an awkward pause, he nodded toward the stage. “Hey, the kid’s pretty good, isn’t he?”

  She laughed, though the sound held no humor. “Yeah. He is.” She should have known better than to expect any verbal concessions from Edward. Even if he admitted to himself he was wrong about something, he’d never say it out loud. Well, he’d come tonight, and of his own accord. That in itself amazed her.

  “Hey, look,” he said, checking his watch, “I need to run, but I’d like to say hi to Dylan first.”

  “I’ll send him out,” she said, and started to step away, then stopped and turned back. “Edward, thanks for coming tonight. It’ll mean a lot to Dylan.”

  “Sure, no problem.” He shrugged easily, but the way he averted his eyes gave away his discomfort. Maybe there was hope for the man after all, Kate thought as she headed for the doors.

  Backstage, chaos reigned as children dashed about and adrenaline filled the air.

  “Mom!” Dylan shouted when he saw her. “Did you see me? Did you see?”

  “I certainly did.” Her gaze locked with Mike’s as he came up behind her son, and her stomach fluttered.

  “I was really good, wasn’t I?” Dylan said, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

  “Yes, you were,” she said.

  “And Mike too. Isn’t he cool?”

  “Yes, he is. The absolute coolest.” She smiled at Mike before giving her son her full attention. “There’s some people out front who want to see you. Why don’t you go show them your costume?”

  “You bet!” Dylan dashed off through the double metal doors. Her heart warmed as she imagined his reaction to seeing his father.

  Pushing thoughts of her ex aside, she turned back to Mike. He looked equal parts nervous and eager, the same way she felt.

  He nodded toward the door leading outside. “I don’t suppose you’d care to get some fresh air?” A child screeched in the background, making them both wince. “And some quiet.”

  “I’d love to.” They didn’t touch as they walked side by side, and she wished he’d take her hand to stop it from shaking.

  Outside, the night provided a refreshing relief from the energy-filled cafeteria. Countless stars filled the sky and the freshness of evening in the Hill Country scented the air. Everything was perfect, exactly as it should be, except for the giant butterflies battling to escape her stomach.

  “So.” Mike cleared his throat. “What did you think of the show?”

  “I thought you and Dylan were fabulous.” A smile tugged at her lips. “Thank you.”

  “It was fun.” He shrugged as if a week of after-school rehearsals hadn’t disturbed his schedule at all. “That is one great kid you have there, you know that?”

  “Yeah, I do. I’m glad you think so, though, since”—she took a deep breath—“you may be spending a lot more time with him.”

  “Oh?” Hope flickered in his eyes. “Does this mean you won’t be pushing me away anymore?”

  “It means I’ve done a lot of thinking the last few days.”

  “And?”

  “And I’ve decided you were right.” She took another deep breath. “I had lost faith in myself. Until I got that back, until I believed I was worth loving, I’d never be able to give my love to someone else.”

  “Kate, you are very worth loving.” He moved closer, but still didn’t touch her. The golden lights from the playground showed the anxiety that lined his face.

  “I know.” She smiled at him, trying to tell him with her eyes that he had helped her remember that. “But first I had to prove it to myself.”

  “Oh?”

  “So,” she said, taking a breath, “last Monday, after you left, I sent out queries to every daily paper in Texas.”

  Panic flashed across his eyes. “You’re not going to hang your self-worth on what other people think, are you? Because selling your column could take a while, even though I believe wholeheartedly that you will sell it.”

  “Would you wait?’ She laughed at him. “And, no, I would have come to the same decision about myself, and about us, no matter what response I got from my queries.”

  “So?” He visibly braced himself.

  “The American Statesman is picking up my
column!” The words bubbled out of her on a burst of enthusiasm.

  “What?” His face lit with excitement.

  “I met with the Lifestyle editor this afternoon,” she explained in a rush. “That’s why I was so late getting here. He said that if my column goes over well in this market, the newspaper chain that owns them will probably run it in their other markets as well. By this time next year, Dear Cupid could be running in papers all over the country.”

  “That’s fabulous!” He swept her up and swung her around. “I knew you could do it.”

  “I know.” She laughed in sheer joy as he set her back on her feet. “But I had to believe it myself. Believe in myself. Before I could believe you really love me.”

  “You do believe that, though.” He cupped her face as his eyes searched hers. “Don’t you?”

  Rather than answer, she rose up and pressed her lips to his. A week’s worth of missing him, of wanting to tell him how she felt, washed over her as she poured herself into the kiss. His lips answered in the same language of eager longing. All barriers crumbled beneath the honesty and strength of the love she felt inside. Still glowing, she sighed when he ended the kiss.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he breathed. “Ah, Kate, I was a goner the moment we met.”

  “Me too. It just took me a little longer to realize it. But no more hiding.” She met his gaze evenly. “I love you, Mike. And I want to spend the rest of my life showing you how much. If you’re still interested.”

  “If I’m still interested?” He kissed her again, long and hard, until the ground tilted beneath her feet, and the stars whirled overhead. When at last he lifted his head, she had to blink to bring him into focus.

  “So.” He smiled broadly. “What would Dear Cupid advise two people who happen to be nuts about each other?”

  “That they not waste any time tying the knot,” she answered without hesitation. “And that from here on out, they make every second they have together count.”

  “I think that’s one bit of advice I can easily follow.” His head dipped toward hers. “Starting right now.”