Shattered 9

"There you are!"

It was the harsh, abrasive voice of Sandra Chandler again. Laney and Norman looked up together, as the sound of heels clicked loudly in their direction. The black haired harpy was back again.

"I've been ringing your room for the last hour!" She came to a halt at their table, glaring at Laney and then Norman for the inconvenience. "Is your cell phone still off?"

"We're having dinner." Laney pointed out casually. "Want some coffee?"

A sedative would do more good. Like maybe a handful. Just don't invite yourself to the table.

"You've got to get ready." Sandy clenched her teeth and tried to keep her voice down. "It's almost 7:30!"

"Is it?" Laney was not impressed. "Well, the time sure gets away from you when you're having fun."

You should try it sometime, Ms. Chandler. Might work out some of those ugly wrinkles on your sour face.

"Well, time to get serious, madam! The writer from Child's Play will be here soon, and I'm sure they'll want photos. You need to get back upstairs, change your clothes, fix your hair and look presentable. I swear, you're impossible sometimes." The agent focused her glare on Norman, who was outwardly calm, and quietly seething at the woman's rude behavior. "And thank you, Mr. Bates, for keeping her entertained, but playtime's over, and Ms. O'Donnell needs to get back to business."

"Calm down, Sandy." Laney insisted. "We're not done with dessert yet." It looked as if things could get a bit heated, so Norman cleared his throat and intervened.

"I wouldn't want you to be late." He pushed his chair back and stood up. He was anxious to keep the peace and get away from the Chandler woman before he said something 'inappropriate'.

"Clever boy." Sandy quipped and took hold of Laney's arm. "Now go on! I'll take care of the check. Good bye Mr. Bates."

"Walk me to the elevator, will you, Norman?"

Laney's remark, accompanied by her tongue stuck out in Sandy's direction, was intended as the last word. Norman offered his arm, and was only too happy to escort his friend to the elevator. To the fourth floor, in fact, where he had his room. There were only a few comments spared on the ride up.

"I don't mean to tell you your business, Laney--" Norman was still holding onto her arm as the floors slipped by on numbered lights. "But that woman seems like--" Like what? A monster? A bitch? "--like she thinks she's your mother."

"It's all I can do to keep from slugging her sometimes!" Laney admitted with a huff. "Oh, sure, she keeps me on schedule as much as anything can. I'm a little too mellow for her. Then again, she does keep the appointments and interviews coming. It's her paycheck as well as mine."

There was a 'ding' and the door slid open on the fourth floor.

"This is my stop." Norman smiled down into those merry blue eyes.

"Okay, but remember-- room 523, 9 o'clock-- and bring our Time Capsule!"

Norman patted her hand, stepped to the door, and then turned around to give her a sweet brotherly peck on the cheek. The door started to close and the pair of them almost panicked, trying to keep him from being caught,

"See you later!" he winked. The door slid closed and Laney O'Donnell smiled contentedly. When the door opened on the fifth floor, she quickly switched gears, in order to get back to the restaurant in time for the Child's Play interview.

Norman threw himself onto his bed with a pleasant groan. He felt wonderful! Exhausted from the nervous tension, but satiated on a wonderful meal and ecstatic with company of Laney O'Donnell. It was so wildly unexpected-- to be remembered with affection and to have her still desire his company even after confessions of his troubling past. It was like nothing else mattered except the fact they were together.

He grabbed one of his pillows and hugged it tightly, unable to keep from giggling like a boy. She still held a marvelous, secret and sacred place in his heart. Oh sure the years had added a few smile lines to them both, maybe a few gray hairs, but once they started talking it was as if they'd only parted company yesterday. She used to make him feel ten feet tall and the most fabulous boy in the world. Now, except for the age difference, she still made him feel special-- in a good way.

He had just under 90 minutes, he figured. He would take another shower, warm up some of those muscles that had finally relaxed, shave again just to in case there was another chance for a quick kiss, and change all his clothes. It wasn't as if they were dirty, but after a shower, fresh clothes were always best. Maybe he should buy some flowers? Alright, let's not over do it! It's not like a first official date or anything. Well, it is, sort of. She hasn't seen me in forever and she invited me to her room!

He rolled onto his back and gazed at the ceiling, well aware he had a ridiculous grin on his face. It had been lovely to sleep in a real bed for a change, in a place he didn't have to share with someone who bothered him. A real bed, and not the couch in the den at home.

Correction, at Connie's home.

The silly grin faded away, at just the thought of that name. Was he being cruel? Had he been wrong to leave in such a rush? She was probably worried. Well, let her be worried! What's a few nights of worry compared to what she's put me through? Selfish, inconsiderate-- There was no room for forgiveness in his heart, not for her. She tricked him-- she'd been tricking him from the start, and he hated the fool he'd been. It's not bad enough to lie about being in love, or agreeing that there wouldn't be children. And then she had assaulted him-- molested him-- even now the memory made his stomach lurch and he sat up suddenly for fear of losing control. The feeling passed and he relaxed, keeping dinner down with no need to rush to the bathroom and vomit.

I never should have married her. Never should have believed her. She used me-- just to get pregnant! He'd rehashed this all before and suddenly he realized Connie was in fact ruining his good time, and this wonderful elated feeling at finding Laney again.

Laney! Now he laid back down, resuming that silly grin. She was honest, and friendly, and warm, and understanding. She didn't have ulterior motives; she liked him for himself-- she had always liked him that way. Even when he told her the 'bad news' -- Most of it, anyway-- She hadn't even cringed or asked a lot of questions. In fact her only response was concern for what he'd been through. The idea struck him that if Laney had stayed in his life, if they had remained friends, or if he had run away back then-- maybe none of those terrible things would have ever happened.

Laney was more than a friend. She was a soul mate, someone he belonged with. She gave him balance, and peace, and when she looked at him, she smiled at what she saw. Times like that, he liked being Norman Bates. No matter what happened to him now, no matter where he went after leaving Connie, he would make sure he and Laney stayed in touch. If he could write to her, or chat on the phone, or even email back and forth occasionally, he was sure he could survive. Just knowing her would be enough of a life line to help.

He bolted off the bed with purpose now. He double checked to be sure the door was locked, and then slid the chain in place just as an extra precaution. All sorts of things could happen in a place like this. Confident that nothing could interrupt, Norman hurried to the bathroom to shower and shave.

Laney made it back to the restaurant in record time, and scanned the tables for signs of Sandy. Through the door at the back, she saw the bar, and Sandy waving for her attention. The writer from Child's Play have arrived and she and Sandy were getting acquainted over a few drinks.

Ms. Chandler introduced the pair and Laney was as gracious and happy as always. The writer, Anne Beckwith, was a vivacious younger woman, with very blond hair and an abundance of jewelry. It was evident at first glance that she and Sandy had already hit it off.

Laney declined the offer of a drink, as she wasn't fond of alcohol. She ordered birch beer instead.

"Soda? How fitting for an author of children's literature." Ms. Beckwith commented. "It would be interesting to find out some dark secret about you."

"She hasn't any." Sandy quipped. "Nothing worth printing, anyway."

Laney laughed slightly at the rib, knowing her agent well enough to take her sarcasm in stride. For the next 45 minutes it was business as usual. The questions came in smooth succession and were mainly the same sort that Laney had answered dozens of times before. She tried to make the answers more interesting, adding humor and some insights, knowing full well that the young Ms. Beckwith would pick and chose those that best suited her purpose, and the magazine's needs. A few photos were taken, half of these involving Sandy, who billed herself the power behind the throne.

Checking her watch, Laney asked if there was anything else their guest wanted to know. The young woman was quite happy with the information she'd been given, and promised that the article would be appearing in the next issue.

"You're pretty hot news in our little world." Anne assured. "And I really appreciate you taking the time to met with me."

"Oh, it's been a pleasure. " Laney assured. "We're leaving tomorrow for L.A. and I've got a few more things to do tonight, so if you'll excuse me."

Sandy scowled at this remark.

"You're not planning to see that creepy guy again, are you?"

Laney returned the scowl, slightly less hostile for the sake of their visitor.

"His name is Norman, and he's not creepy. I haven't seen him in over 30 years, Sandy. And after today it'll probably be another 30 years." She afforded Ms. Beckwith a pleasant smile. "She's worse than a mother hen sometimes, and yes, you can print that. Now don't get up! You two stay and chat all you want, and have something to eat, the night is young. All work and no play makes Sandy a very dull girl!"

With wishes for a good night, Laney left them in the booth, ready to order another round. It was almost 9 and she didn't want to miss Norman.