Magic in Our Hearts

by Jeanne Mccann

  Location was critical to becoming a part of the community. Boulder swelled in size during the winter but also had quite a bit of tourism during the rest of the year as people were drawn to the rusticism of the mountains and the numerous hiking trails. Taylor liked the fact that she was able to bring new business to the bustling city. She had spoken to the Chamber of Commerce, explaining the business proposal and what it would mean to the city. It would create at least twenty more jobs and increase revenue. Taylor was excited to get the project started.

  While Taylor worked at her desk, Brett sat in first class on the plane preparing for her first meeting. She had been working like a madwoman for weeks. In her briefcase, she had a training plan, a fitness plan, and dietary recommendations.

  With Taylor’s guidance, she had prepared a comprehensive mind and body approach to coaching, and the U.S. Olympic Committee had agreed to her suggestions. Now, all she had to do was convince the athletes, which would not be an easy feat.

  She knew most of them, having competed with almost all of the women at one time or another. She had partied with many of the men and women. With some of the women she had done more than party. That was the sticky part. She wanted no one to come between her and Taylor. She was going to make sure her intentions were clear to everyone. Brett was not there to play around. She had a job to do and she planned on being a professional while she did it.

  She laid her head back against her seat and closed her eyes, relaxing, as she thought of Taylor and their relationship. It was amazing how wonderful it felt to wake up every day with her, to go to sleep at night wrapped in her arms, to know that no matter what happened in their lives Taylor would always be there as her partner and lover. They rarely disagreed about anything of consequence, and most of Taylor’s irritation with Brett was that she felt Brett was pushing herself too hard. Brett’s stubborn nature had caused a few arguments, but both women were able to recognize what was important in their lives and quickly settled any disagreements. They talked about everything, and Brett found that sharing her fears with Taylor made them easier to deal with. She knew Taylor would help her with anything, and that knowledge made her feel invincible.

  When Brett landed at LaGuardia Airport in New York, a liveried chauffeur met her as she exited of the terminal. He drove her to her elegant hotel in a long, black limousine. The meetings with the committee and some of the athletes would take place in the Grand Hyatt in downtown Manhattan over dinner. Brett had spent quite a bit of time in New York when she was still skiing, some of it in support of her sponsors and some of it playing in several of the many clubs in New York City. She knew the area well, but on this trip she had no desire to immerse herself in the nightlife. In fact, she had absolutely no interest in it.

  A press conference announcing her new job was scheduled the next day after her meetings with the committee and the athletes. She freshened up in her room before heading downstairs to the dining room for the first meeting. Taylor had helped her choose her wardrobe, convincing Brett that her usual casual slacks and polo shirt would not work. Brett had taken her advice and was wearing a mid-night blue silk suit with a mint green shell underneath. She felt good as she rode the elevator to the lobby and stepped out into the crowded room.

  “Hello, stranger.”

  Brett froze at the all-too-familiar voice, her stomach rolling in response.

  “Hello, Juliet.”

  Brett stared at the woman she hadn’t seen since the night of her fateful accident. Juliet was still as beautiful as ever, wearing a yellow dress and matching jacket, her briefcase under her arm. Brett was surprised to feel nothing but sadness. She realized that, on that fateful night, she had been using Juliet as much as Juliet had been using her. She could no more blame her for what happened than she could blame the mountain. Brett had made the unfortunate decision to drink and ski at the same time. The responsibility was hers, and she was now living with the consequences. It still was somewhat difficult to look at the woman who had seen her self–destruct, however.

  “Brett, you look good.” And Juliet meant it. She couldn’t tell by looking at Brett that she had been in an accident. She looked more grown up, more professional than she had years earlier, but otherwise just as handsome and compelling.

  Juliet had always been attracted to the charismatic woman and even now she felt drawn to her.

  “I am good.” Brett and Juliet stood off to the side in the large hotel lobby talking while people streamed by them. The hotel lobby was large and packed with incoming and outgoing patrons. “What are you doing in New York?”

  “I’m here on business. We have a client that’s representing Nike, and we have a photo shoot here in New York.” Juliet’s voice trailed off. She didn’t know what to say to Brett. She’d lived with her guilt so long that it was a part of her and now it loomed large as she looked at the woman she believed she had almost killed.

  “I’m sorry, Brett.”

  “Juliet, don’t. Nothing was your fault. I take full responsibility for everything. I chose to drink, I put on my skis, and I’m the sole cause of my injuries.” Brett spoke softly but directly.

  “That’s very generous.…”

  “I was angry for a long time and almost drank myself to death. Now, I just want to get on with my life and move forward.”

  “But …”

  “It’s over, Juliet. Let it go. I have. I’m completely happy. I’m with Taylor Aronson now, and my life couldn’t be more perfect.”

  Juliet smiled at the woman who still intrigued her. “Then I can only wish you a long and happy life.”

  “You too.” Brett smiled. She was totally serene as she turned away eliminating one more ghost from her past life.

  Long after Brett entered the restaurant, Juliet stood silently. She was process-ing the brief but poignant conversation. Maybe she could let everything go now that she knew Brett was going to be okay. She hadn’t slept through a full night since the accident. Guilt and remorse had weighed heavily on her mind. She needed to change her own life, now, and move on. Maybe now that she had been forced to face her demons she could find her own happiness. She smiled as she realized she was happy for Brett. She deserved to be happy and well loved.

  Brett took a huge deep breath as she approached the separate dining room where the meeting and dinner were being held. She was terribly nervous. She didn’t notice the elegant ballroom or the people around her. Her thoughts were on her meeting and what she was going to say. Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and looked at the display. Taylor.

  “Hi.” Brett smiled as she answered the telephone.

  “Hi honey, I just called to wish you luck with your meeting.”

  “Thanks, I’m just going into the room.”

  “Call me later and tell me all about it. You’re going to be terrific!”

  “I will. Taylor?”

  “Yes, honey.”

  “I am the luckiest woman in the world.”

  “Oh baby, so am I.”

  “Love you.”

  Brett walked through the doorway with her head held high. She was the new coach. She didn’t have anything to prove. She was born for the job. A slight grin played across her lips as she strode across the room and went to shake the hand of a member of the Olympics committee.

  Brett’s meeting went well. She was introduced to members of the committee and heard again and again of the faith they had in her coaching skills. She went over her plan and strategy with all of them, outlining her training and exercise program in detail. They nodded their heads as she explained how she intended to turn the program around. By the end of the meeting they were completely won over, and Brett was pleased with their reception.

  By Wednesday morning she was prepared to meet with several of the athletes that would be under her tutelage. She’d had one interesting encounter during dinner the night before when a woman she used to party with on the ski circuit approached her table.

  “Hey Brett, long time no see.” S
heri’s grin was full of mischief, her green eyes locked on Brett’s face. She and Brett had had some crazy times in past years.

  They had skied and played hard, ending up in bed together several times after nights of drinking and dancing. Neither woman took their relationship seriously.

  They were just having fun. Sherri was a gifted slalom skier and a wild partier. Her golden brown hair curled loosely about her face, and she was still as cute as ever with her short, powerfully built body.

  “Hello Sheri. How have you been?”

  “Excellent! I’m looking forward to working with you this season.” Sheri’s emphasis on working hadn’t slipped by Brett.

  “I’m looking forward to a successful season myself. Sheri, I need you to know a few things. I take this coaching job very seriously. I’m not here to play around, drinking all night. I’m asking you to keep our relationship on a strictly professional level.” Brett spoke clearly, her voice loud enough to be heard by several of the assistant coaches sitting around her at the table. They also needed to know what type of coach she intended to be.

  “But, Brett …”

  “No buts, Sheri. I’m going to say this only once. I’m here to do nothing but coach.”

  “You can coach and still have fun.”

  “I think I’ve made myself very clear. If you intend to play, please keep it quiet.

  If your ability to ski is in any way hampered by your lack of commitment, you and I are going to have serious words.”

  Sheri looked at Brett and nodded her head. “I get it.”

  “Good, because I intend for this team to bring home some gold medals.” Brett lightened up her voice and smiled up at the surprised woman.

  “I’d like that too.” Sheri turned and exited the dining room.

  “She’s going to repeat what you just said to everyone,” Tad Noble, one of her new assistant coaches, remarked.

  “I know. I expected that.” Brett grinned back at him. The message would get around very quickly. Brett wanted everyone to understand her commitment and her intent.

  “There’s a new sheriff in town,” he laughed, turning back to his meal.

  “Yes, there is,” Brett chuckled, as she continued to eat her dinner.

  CHAPTER 22

  “Helen, have you seen Roselin this morning?”

  “I woke her up at nine and she asked me to bring her a cup of tea. I was just going to go up and see if she needed any help getting up.”

  “I’ll go. I need to ask her something.” Brett’s birthday was coming up and Taylor needed some gift suggestions from her mother.

  Taylor knocked softly on the door and then opened it. “Oh Roselin!” Taylor hurried to the bed and bent over the silent form slumped on top of the covers. Taylor didn’t need to be told she was gone. She spoke softly, “I’m so sorry Brett wasn’t here, Roselin. I know she will miss you so much. So will I.” Taylor gently laid the woman flat on her bed and brushed her hair back from her peaceful face. She began to cry. “I’m so glad you aren’t suffering any more, and I promise you Brett will be well taken care of.” Taylor hurried downstairs to talk to Helen. They had to call the doctor and the funeral home. She also had to call Brett. She didn’t want to make that call. It would devastate her partner.

  Brett reached for her cell phone as it vibrated on her hip while she walked out to get in her cab for the trip to the airport. Everything, including the press conference, had gone well, and she was expecting to start working with the athletes within four months in Boulder at their new state-of-the-art training facility. She was walking on air. Even the athletes had expressed support for her coaching methods. She couldn’t wait to get started.

  “Hi, honey.”

  “Brett, I have some bad news, honey.”

  “Mom …” Brett’s heart slammed in her chest.

  “She’s gone, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

  “Did she, did she …” Brett began to cry.

  “She was in no pain. She slipped away early this morning.”

  “I’ll get there as soon as possible.”

  “I know, love. We’ll take care of her until you get here.”

  “Taylor, I …”

  “I know baby, I love you too.”

  Brett sat in the first class section of the Boeing 757 in a state of shock. Her heart beat wildly as she realized that she had missed her mother’s passing. It broke her heart that she hadn’t been there for her, the one thing she wanted—no, needed—to do. God, she was such a failure as a daughter! “Can I get you anything to drink?” the flight attendant asked as she waited patiently in the aisle of the plane.

  Brett looked up at the woman, her eyes full of pain and anger. “I’d like a glass of Scotch, neat, please.”

  By the time Brett got off of the plane she was completely inebriated and barely able to stay on her feet. Her body wasn’t used to alcohol and was rebelling in a big way after only two drinks. Brett hadn’t even thought of the consequences of her drinking. She had thought only of her mother and her own grief. By the time she had finished her first drink, she felt woozy. Her second had hit her harder.

  She couldn’t think, she couldn’t feel, and most of all she couldn’t hurt.

  Taylor spotted her as she came through the self-opening doors of the airport.

  She had tried to call Brett on her cell phone when she landed, but she hadn’t answered. Something was wrong! Brett could barely walk. Her gait was unsteady.

  As she approached Taylor, Taylor could see her face and knew immediately what had happened.

  “Brett, what, oh honey, no …” Brett’s red-rimmed eyes looked at Taylor.

  “I drank, Taylor. I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave me. I’d be so lost without you.” Brett’s words were slurred. She was completely docile as Taylor bundled her into the car.

  “I’m not leaving, sweetheart. We’ll get you some help, I promise.” Brett’s eyes closed, and Taylor looked at her partner and cried—cried for the loss of Brett’s mother and for her struggling daughter. She knew losing her mother was hard on Brett, but it hadn’t occurred to her that she would turn to alcohol. She should have waited to tell her when she had gotten home.

  By the time they arrived home, Brett was barely conscious. Helen and Fran had to help Taylor get Brett into bed where she slept heavily under Taylor’s watchful eye. Taylor wasn’t sure what the alcohol would do to Brett, and she was scared to death that Brett would continue to drink. Taylor had called Jeb immediately after Brett had effectively passed out, and he was on his way to Boulder.

  She knew that the next few days would be critical if Brett was to regain her sobriety. If anyone knew what she was dealing with it was Jeb, and Taylor needed help.

  Brett stirred and then opened her eyes, her mouth so dry she couldn’t swallow.

  Her head pounded and her stomach was nauseous. Then she remembered, “Oh God, Mother! I’m so sorry.”

  “Brett, honey, are you awake?”

  Brett rolled her head over and her eyes met the concerned eyes of her lover.

  Taylor was sitting next to the bed where she had been watching over Brett for several hours as she slept. “Taylor, I’m sorry.”

  “Brett, listen to me. We’re going to get through this together. Do you want to keep drinking?” Taylor spoke softly, her eyes locked onto Brett’s face.

  “No, I just was so angry that I wasn’t here for Mother and I wasn’t thinking clearly. I failed her.”

  “You didn’t fail your mother. You were a wonderful daughter. She loved you.

  I understand how angry and sad you are, but we need to get the alcohol out of your system and then talk about what to do next, okay?”

  “Okay. I love you, Taylor.” Brett began to cry, sobbing as Taylor gathered her up in her arms and held her tightly.

  “Everything will be okay, honey.” Taylor held Brett until she was completely cried out, and then she helped her to the bathroom to take a shower.

  By the time Brett was dressed, Taylor had
made several telephone calls to finish the arrangements for Roselin’s funeral. Everything had already been prear-ranged, and all she needed to do was take Brett to the funeral home to see her mother. Taylor was afraid that the visit would be too much for Brett in her fragile state, but she knew it had to be done.

  Brett came out of their suite and came toward the dining room table where Taylor sat with Helen and Fran. She was still walking a little unsteadily. “Could I get a cup of coffee?”

  “Certainly.” Helen rushed to get Brett a cup as she sat down at the table next to Taylor.

  The three women recognized the guilt and sorrow on Brett’s face. Their hearts went out to the grieving woman. Taylor spoke softly to her. “Honey, do you want to see Roselin?”

  Taylor had taken Brett’s hand in hers, and Brett held on tightly. The bands in her chest loosened when she looked at her supportive friends. There was no blame or anger as they looked back at her. “Yes, I would.”

  “I’ll take you this morning, and then we’ll talk about the rest of the arrangements.”

  “Okay.” Brett stood up on wobbly legs and then spoke again. “Thank you for taking such good care of my mother. I know she cared very much for all of you.” Helen responded, as Fran started to cry. “Brett, we loved your mother. It was an honor to take care of her.”

  Taylor stood up and tugged on Brett’s arm. “Come on, honey.” The rest of day moved by quickly, and Brett dealt with the details, but her mind was a blur. The combination of alcohol and her grief made simple decisions difficult. She couldn’t seem to see her way clearly. She was sitting out on the back deck staring up at the mountains when Jeb walked out the back door.