Shattered 10
Laney wanted to clean up the mess in the sitting room area of the suite. She had left clothes and magazines, mail and photos laying around, so she scooped them up and tossed them hastily in the first bedroom. She'd changed her long peasant skirt and blouse from that afternoon, to something more comfortable for the interview; leggings, a long cowl neck sweater, and her soft leather Spanish boots. She always felt at home it that ensemble, even though Sandy thought the sweater looked more like a dress. But who cared about what Sandy thought? She wanted to be able to sit on the couch with Norman and even pull her legs up if she wanted. Sitting like 'wild Indians' like they used to do, sharing comic books until her mother-- or his-- complained.
It seemed like they had crammed a life-time into that summer.
Nine o'clock came and went, without Norman.
Laney didn't get too upset, because he had promised to come and Norman never broke a promise, as far as she was concerned. When it got to be 9:30, she reasoned he was probably as nervous as she was and just running late-- though why she was nervous, she couldn't say. She settled in front of the TV and played with the remote for awhile, waiting for a knock at the door. It was almost 10 when the phone rang.
"L-Laney?"
"Norman! I was starting to get worried!" Perhaps he had changed his mind?
"Laney, I'm so sorry! I fell asleep. I took a hot shower and thought I'd just lay down for a minute and I must have been too relaxed-- I just woke up-- am I too late?"
"After all these years. you're asking that now? You better show up at my door in 10 minutes, Mr. Bates, or I'll send the spaghetti monster to get you." Another blast from their past that made him laugh in relief.
"Not the spaghetti monster! 10 minutes, I promise."
"Oh, and I'm ordering some room service for us now, before the kitchen closes-- since we didn't get to have dessert."
"Okay-- be right there!"
Norman rolled off the bed, tore off his towel and got dressed so fast he ended up pulling one of those relaxed muscles in his back. White shirt, clean jeans, belt-- loafers, no socks? No time for socks! He grabbed the box of mementoes and darted into the hall, pausing long enough to make sure he had his key, and that the door was locked.
It hadn't been 7 minutes since she'd hung up the phone, when Laney heard the rapid knock on her door.
She peeked through the peep-hole, saw Norman nervously smoothing his hair and then asked in a squeaky voice.
"Who is it?"
He must have heard her laughing.
"It's the spaghetti monster-- run for your life!"
Laney opened the door and pulled Norman in by his sleeve. She closed and locked the door, sighing like a vamp.
"At last ve are alone!"
"No chance Ms. Chandler's going to pop in?" There was that special smile again!
"No, I left her in the bar with the writer from that magazine. They'll be busy for hours and she knows better than to bother me after 10."
Norman held out the box for her, which she accepted with a childish squeal and hurried over to the couch.
"Come on, come on, come on, come on!"
He couldn't resist, and he took a seat beside her, as she emptied the box on the coffee table. There were many sighs, gasps, exclamations and squeals, mainly from Laney. Norman added some excited comments of his own as they examined the items one by one and recounted endless stories connected with each. For one night, they could be children again, teasing each other and making silly jokes, until room service arrived and demanded attention.
Laney had not only ordered coffee and chocolate cake, but 2 shrimp cocktails, a bowl of fruit, tea, and a bottle of champagne. Norman whistled in surprise.
"Who got married?"
"Come on, it's a special occasion, Norman! And I'll have you know, I don't drink but in your case will make an exception."
It was decadent and wonderful. Norman kicked off his shoes and the pair sat on the couch, eating, drinking and being merry. It soon evolved into a guessing game, as they recaptured that time, long ago.
"My favorite book?" Norman challenged.
"The Pokey Little Puppy! Mine?"
"The Saggy Baggy Elephant! Hot dogs or hamburgers?"
"Hamburgers! Mustard or ketchup?"
"Ketchup-- on everything! Flavor ice cream?"
"Chocolate!" They both shouted and pointed at each other, with Laney breaking into a fit of laughter. They continued, with varying degrees of success, trying to out-challenge and out-guess each other until they all but collapsed, side by side. Laney set her head on his shoulder after he poured them both another glass of champagne.
"Oh, no more for me, Norman. I can't take that stuff!"
"Well we can't let it go to waste."
"You drink it, then."
"Are you trying to get me drunk, Ms. O'Donnell?"
"Mmm-hmm." She nodded against him and curled one arm around him in a gentle embrace. "I can't tell you how much it means to me, meeting up with you again."
"Me, too. I haven't laughed this much in years." Probably not since you went away. "We should have done this years ago."
"Don't think I hadn't thought about it. But when I never heard from you, after all those letters, I figured you didn't want to stay in touch."
"I'm so sorry. Laney. My mother was just cruel some times."
"So, what about this Connie woman, this wife of yours? Does she know why you came to Oakland?"
"Not really. I ran away. Just for a few days. I left a note. We're having some real problems and it's not a very happy situation. Once I sell the property I'll move out."
"Where will you go?"
"I'm not sure. Is it nice on the east coast? Maybe there."
"You'd love New England, and Cape Cod. And New York City is like no place else on earth."
"Is that good?" he teased. She responded by poking him in the ribs, and he yelped in surprise.
"That's right! You're ticklish!"
She set on him instantly, tickling him madly as he laughed and squirmed and pushed at her hands defensively.
"No, stop! Please!"
By the time she let up, Norman was lying on the couch, and she was between his legs, lying over him. It was a moment before they caught their breath. Norman couldn't resist scolding her, in a voice meant to imitate her father.
"Really, Laney-- that's hardly lady-like behavior." They'd heard that line a time or two. She retaliated with another attempt at tickling but Norman grabbed her wrists in time to stop her. She surrendered easily and tried to push herself up. Instead, Norman pulled her down gently so she rested her head on his chest. Only then did he dare release her wrists, and moved to hold her in a gentle, almost timid, embrace.
"What a pair we are." he sighed. "You're a famous writer. You've traveled the world-- you have traveled the world, haven't you?" She nodded, finding his broad chest quite a comfortable pillow. "And I've lived almost half my life in hospitals, and have never been out of California." This struck her as very funny, and she couldn't keep from laughing.
"What's the difference?" she teased. "Maybe when you…move out and if you find yourself on the east coast, we could do this all the time."
That would be more than wonderful.
"Not if you're going to tickle me!"
"No?"
"Well, maybe a little."
Neither of them felt like moving, and they spent several wordless minutes comfortably lying on the couch. There was nothing wrong or licentious about it; it was the delayed peace of innocents. Love, plain and simple, the way it was meant to be.
"You're still the handsomest man I've ever seen."
"I am?" He craned his neck to look at her, just to be sure she wasn't laughing. "I'm an old man."
"And that means I'm an old lady."
"No you're not. You're still Laney."
"We better shut up while we're ahead."
Their bliss lasted awhile longer, until Norman made the casual observation that she was putting pressure on his bladder, and the champagne was objecting. Another spate of giggles, which only aggravated his distress, and they untangled at last so he could visit the bathroom.
In his absence, Laney surveyed the remnants of their feast with quiet satisfaction. Why couldn't life be like this all the time? She missed being a tomboy, acting silly, and being 'herself'. Certainly, she wasn't always in the public eye, and had plenty of time to herself at home. After her husband died, it was hard for awhile. Now she found herself wishing for someone she could spend that private time with-- as long as it was Norman.
"Snap out of it." she mumbled to herself. "He's married, and he's not interested in you that way."
When Norman reappeared, he wriggled his feet back into his shoes.
"It's almost 1, Laney. I should go and let you sleep." He hated to say it, but he cared about her rest-- he cared about everything concerning her.
She nodded and stood up to see him off.
"I wish I didn't have to leave tomorrow." she sighed. "I'm not done visiting with you!"
He smiled and put all their childhood treasures back in the box. He would keep them safe for another time. Once this was done, he followed her to the door. Neither seemed happy with calling a stop to their evening, but it was one of those unavoidable responsibilities that went with 'adulthood'. She opened the door reluctantly, and he smiled at her warmly.
"I'd like to take you to lunch tomorrow, if I could-- before you leave?"
"We've got to catch a plane at 1 oclock." she moaned in disappointment.
"What about breakfast, than?"
Laney looked up at him, feeling as if her heart would break for a second time, because of this man. She knew it was now or never, and so she rested her hands on his shoulders.
"Alright. Beakfast, then. Under one condition."
"What?"
She leaned up and kissed his lips softly and sweetly, and he responded in kind.
"On the condition we have breakfast in bed."
"Oh, Laney." he rested his head against hers. "YPlease don't think me terrible-- or that I don't w-want to." You're stuttering again! "I just… I don't think I'm r-ready for that."
She nodded in disappointment, and then threw caution to the wind. She kissed him again, a bit more passionately. She stopped long enough to whisper her regrets.
"I understand, Norman. And I don't think you're terrible. I think you're wonderful."
Another kiss followed, more intense and this time initiated by Norman. He folded his arms around her and she did the same. If this was all that fate allowed, she would take it with no regrets. When their lips parted, they were still holding each other. Norman reached back with his foot and nudged the door closed.
"I'm ready."