Part Three

Dawson was still feeling the heady rush of adrenalin as he took the steps two at a time. An exultant chuckle escaped his throat and on reaching the ground floor he almost ran out the revolving lobby door. The receptionist looked up momentarily confused and then went back to his work with a smile.

Outside, Dawson leaned back against the granite wall of the building. Taking a deep breath, but with the same broad grin he took out his cell phone and pressed the familiar number combination.

"Jo, hey, it's me."

Of course he was going to call Joey. The instant he'd finished his meeting with Spielberg she was all he could think of. For the past five years Dawson had been steadily building walls around himself - all in the name of his career and following his dream. In reality, the distance that he had been keeping from his oldest friends and even family had been largely an act of self-preservation. Dawson, the idealist and dreamer did not want to be hurt. He wanted time out to avoid some of life's lows. With one of the biggest losses of his life, Jens' death, he was now realising that without life's lows, there were no highs either. The loss of their friend had brought back his friendship with Joey. He had almost forgotten how wonderful Joey, the reality, was in comparison to Sammy, the fictional and shadowy substitute.

"Dawson! I've been waiting for this call all day!"

He laughed happily. Hearing her voice always brought things into perspective.

"Just wanted to let you know that everything went really well. I didn't make a fool of myself and my clothes must have been at the very least presentable."

"Yeah, yeah…what is this, a fashion review! What did he want? What did he say?"

"Well, Jo. As I recall last night all you were mainly worried about were my clothes. I know I'm not a sophisticated New Yorker but…"

Joey's voice came threateningly over the line.

"Am I going to have to come over there and torture you to get you to give me some real information?"

Dawson instantly squashed the sudden desire that he had to dwell on the idea. He didn't really want to explore the pleasure that the hint of the thought had triggered. Not right now.

'Okay, I'll save you the airfare. Basically it was an invitation to work on a new project he's co-ordinating. It's a TV miniseries with overlapping stories, each story being directed by a young and relatively unknown talent. That is, people like yours truly."

Dawson laughed, holding the phone away from his ear as Joey squealed.

"The golden-god rocks again." He heard her pause and her tone change. "You know how incredibly proud I am and so pleased for you."

"I do Jo."

He did. He always had. It was her opinion that always mattered and why he felt invincible when she believed in him.

"Anyway, let's not make this all about me. How's your day been? Have you whittled down that pile of manuscripts yet?"

Mitch turned away as the image of his son avidly listening to his oldest friend gradually receded.

"Exciting isn't it."

He shifted, making room on the bench for the arrival of his companion.

"It's exciting, but not wholly unexpected. My son has always been a dreamer but the beauty of his dreams was the fact that he had the talent to back them up."

"Humph. So I guess he was always going to meet Spielberg."

Mitch nodded, "Eventually."

"Mr Leery, what you are apt to forget while wallowing in that enormous pride you have for your son is that the boy is still only 24. He may have considerable talent but Spielberg inviting him to work together so soon?"

"What are you saying Arthur?"

"Well, I may have meddled a little." Mr Brooks sat back on the bench and gave a somewhat smug smile to his companion.

"Arthur – spit it out."

"Okay, okay. A book laying here, chance encounters there, a close friend of Spielberg's who became a fan of Dawson's show. But you're right about one thing. I'm sure that a Leery and Spielberg collaboration was inevitable. I just had to speed it along."

"Ah, you know how I feel about messing with the ones still on earth."

"Yeah, well you'll be glad then that I didn't interfere and stop you buying that ridiculous ice cream on your last night over there.'

Mr Brooks' little barb restored Mitch's good humour.

"We both know that our powers extend only so far. You had no say in my demise. Anyway give me a good reason for this meddling."

"Well Mitch, I don't need to tell you that I care about that son of yours," Arthur's voice softened. "He hasn't been happy, truly happy for years. I was afraid that he was going to spend the rest of his life indulging in his Sammy and Colby dramas trying to iron out any real or imagined mistakes of the past, never tasting the reality that could be his."

"You make a good point."

"I make it as one who lived a life of solitude and regret. I didn't want Dawson to go down that same path. He still has a healthy dose of the idealist and optimist in him. Anyway," Mr Brooks looked curiously at Mitch. "You didn't look overjoyed by the news when I sat down. Something wrong?"

"Nothing really any different from your concerns. I was watching him talk to Joey. There is such a light in their eyes when they are together. I just wish they would have found their way back to each other by now."

"You know Mitch," Mr Brooks shot his friend a sly smile. "If you're willing to lower your principles for the common good, we could try to speed that along too."