I Remember You

by Joyce Armor

  “Shall we sit?” Dee said cheerfully.

  Now who’s the cheerful elf?

  They both sat. Ellie picked up a cookie and took a bite. She smiled. “This is so good. You could sell these.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad you like them.”

  Ellie ate the cookie and then another one in silence for a minute or two and finally looked Dee in the eye. “Why are you here?”

  Dee took a deep breath. “I like that. You’re direct. Russell’s not himself since he came back from Las Vegas. I thought you would want to know.”

  Ellie leaned forward. “Is he all right?”

  Dee got kind of a sparkle in her eye.

  What’s up with that?

  She shook her head as she straightened magazines on the coffee table. “I don’t think he is. I think he’s heartsick.”

  “Heartsick? I know he was not too happy about the house being sold, even though he understood.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about. Heartsick is one step below brokenhearted. What happened in Las Vegas?”

  Ellie shifted uncomfortably. “He didn’t tell you?”

  “Was he unsuccessful as Muskman? I find that hard to believe. He’s always been so dedicated and throws himself 100 percent into anything he does.”

  “Oh, he was magnificent,” Ellie assured her. “It was as if Muskman came alive. And he did some singing at a new casino for a friend of mine. He was wonderful. He’s so talented. And everybody liked him.”

  “Did you like him, Ellie?”

  Ellie lit up as if she’d just been plugged in. “Oh, yes. He’s smart and funny and goofy and good. He’s so…unique.”

  “I thought so.”

  “Huh?”

  “You love him. I knew it. He’s barely talked since he got back, but when he does talk, it’s about you.”

  Busted. Again.

  “Mrs….”

  “…Dee. And when he mentions you, his face lights up, just like yours did when I mentioned him.”

  Ellie took another swallow of water, then a deep breath. “Dee, your son is a wonderful person, but he’s a player. He’d never be loyal to one woman. Some men…lots, probably, just aren’t monogamous. I need monogamy.”

  Dee laughed. And it was a hearty laugh from her core. “That’s just blatantly untrue. Well, maybe it is true about lots of men not being monogamous, and lots of women too, for that matter. But you’re wrong about Russell. He’s a little afraid of intimacy, I’ll give you that. When he was 21, he almost married the wrong girl, and it scared him. Scared the hell out of him. So he decided not to get close to anybody. To have fun with the Tiffies of the world.”

  Ellie smiled. “Actually, I think you’d like Tiffy if you got to know her.”

  “I’m sure I would, Ellie, but it’s not Tiffy Russ is heartsick over.”

  Ellie heart skipped a beat. “How do you know?”

  Dee thought about that for a long time. “It’s hard to explain, another one of those mother things, I guess. He’s talked about you, but when I mention your name, he can’t look me in the eye.”

  Ellie looked skeptical.

  “I know my son. He’s hurting. I think he lost his heart in Las Vegas.”

  Could it possibly be true? Is there hope after all?

  Or was it impossible?

  * * *

  At last, Ellie was back among the living. Sitting on Toni’s back deck with her close friend, she took a sip of her pink lemonade and then looked at Toni, who was hand sewing an angel costume for her daughter.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t know you could sew.”

  Toni spread the costume out on her lap, checking out her stitching. “I didn’t say I was good at it, but I don’t think this’ll fall apart on stage.”

  “Maria will love it. And she’ll make a great angel. What’s the production?”

  “It’s kind of a new take on ‘Angels in the Outfield.’”

  Toni stood and held the costume against her body to judge the length.

  “Kids are fun. You should have one or two.”

  Time to change the subject.

  “I keep learning that lesson over and over again, it seems. Most people don’t fit into a set category or pattern, and how they look doesn’t necessarily dictate how they act.”

  “Do I look like I can’t sew?”

  Ellie nodded. “That looks good. Hey, are you truly thinking about getting out of the real estate business for good?”

  “I know I’m skilled at it and it’s very lucrative. It’s just not doing it for me anymore, though. It’s not about the money. We have enough money that we could retire now.”

  “Not too long ago, that would make me want to hit you.”

  Toni laughed. “And now?”

  “I know it’s not about the money. Work, I mean. I loved my job at Full Court Press.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Actually, I have an idea. I need to talk to Roger and Bonnie first before I talk about it. I’m still noodling it around in my head.”

  “You’re not moving to France, are you?”

  “I don’t think the French are ready for me.”

  Toni debated with herself, then decided to drop a hint. “The best part of dealing in residential real estate is hooking up people with homes they love.”

  Ellie waved her hand to scare a fly away from her drink. “I can see that.”

  Toni smiled mysteriously. “I recently did just that for a friend of yours.”

  Knowing Toni, Ellie was fairly certain to whom she referred but played along. “Oh? Who was that?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, that’s confidential.”

  “Bitch.”

  * * *

  It was a pretty sparse crowd for a Friday night at Em’s Hideaway. Summer was almost over, so maybe people were taking a last opportunity to travel or spend time with extended families. And maybe his singing blew because everything about him blew these days. He sang a couple of tried and true standards and then, just for the heck of it, a medley of old TV western theme songs, including “Maverick,” “Cheyenne,” “Wyatt Earp,” “Sugarfoot” and “Bonanza.” On the latter song, he didn’t sing the words, just “Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da. Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da,” etc.

  There was polite applause…no accounting for people’s taste…and he followed that up with the Buster Brown song. That reminded him of Ellie, although he had tried his best to forget her. That, of course, was an impossible task because everything reminded him of her—even the sky. She was no doubt in Chicago working for some megafirm and not thinking about him at all. He could still taste that kiss in the hallway of the convention center and probably always would. And he could picture her creamy white shoulder…Criminy, he was getting hard just thinking of her.

  And, then, as if his pathetic yearning had conjured her up, she walked up and settled herself down at the same table and in the same seat she had sat in with the geeky date. She looked positively gorgeous in a tight black skirt and pink off-the-shoulder blouse. His shoulder. The one he had kissed. She smiled at him, and he felt the crud he had packed around his heart start to crumble. And then, without even planning it, he sang “I Remember You,” about the true love of his past. It was her. She was the one who made him see stars and hear bells. When he finished the song with his usual flourish, he got up from the piano and walked toward her.

  The meeting with Roger and Bonnie had gone great. Now Ellie was on to her next stop in her Life Rebuilding Plan. And she could thank Dee for getting her out of her funk. It was all she could do to keep from salivating as Russell approached. He looked so handsome in his tux. So crisp. So perfect. Even on paper. She wanted to rip that tux off him, throw him to the floor and play his body like a harp. And then he was standing above her, looking down. She looked up.

  “Hey, Cowboy Russ.”

  “I thought you were in Chicago.”

  “Guess you thought wrong.”

  He still wasn’t ready to go all i
n. “What are you doing here?” he asked, almost afraid of her answer.

  She smiled. “I couldn’t go to Chicago.”

  “Why not?”

  She hesitated a moment while he held his breath. “Because you’re here.”

  And then his heart was free. He grinned and pulled her out of her chair into his arms, where she fit perfectly. As he leaned down and his lips approached hers, she could swear she saw those sparks Roger had mentioned. They kissed then and lit up the room amid a spattering of applause. It wasn’t just Muskman that garnered the attention, she realized. It was Russell. They talked about anything and everything during his break, and then she stayed through his last set. They decided to leave her car there and she’d drive with him. He wanted to show her something. She thought she most likely knew what it was.

  When he pulled his Jeep into the driveway of his new home, she could already tell it was ideal for him. While it wasn’t lakefront, it was across the street from Lake Marquessa and looked fairly big yet somehow like a cottage. He parked in the driveway and opened the garage door, leading her into the house that way.

  “Your new house?” she asked.

  “Toni told you.”

  She laughed. “She didn’t, though she gave me a pretty big hint. How’d you get in so fast?”

  “The previous owners had already moved and they wanted a two-week escrow.”

  He led her through a surprisingly modern kitchen to a big family room that looked so cozy she wanted to curl up in front of the fireplace even though it was dead summer. “I love it,” she said and meant it. “It’s so warm and comfy. And so you.”

  “Would you like to see the bedrooms?” he asked, almost shyly.

  Did she ever. Now she did hear a symphony orchestra playing their song. What is it, “The Yellow Rose of Texas?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Make that bedroom not bedrooms, because they never got past his bedroom, which was large and quite spare since he’d just moved in, but masculine except for the weird purple flowered couch under the window. A soft gray comforter on the king-size bed was sheepskin on one side and some suede-like material on the other.

  “It’s dark now, but in the daytime, you can see the lake from here and from the family room.”

  “It’s perfect,” she whispered as he came up behind her and put his arms around her.

  She didn’t even remember disrobing. Suddenly, it seemed, all their clothes were scattered around the room as if they had been flung by a madman, and they barely made it to the bed before they were in a lip lock to end all lip locks, a kiss that reached all the way down to her toes and probably lit up the sky around the world.

  When his hand hit her breast for the first time, she almost screamed it felt so good, and if his sighs were any indication, he was liking her moves, too. They didn’t just make love. They laughed and sighed and moaned until she thought surely the neighbors would be pounding on the door. When he scrambled off the bed to fetch a condom from his wallet, she practically scrambled off after him, clutching his legs, not wanting to be without him. She came the first time in a splintering orgasm that had her making noises she had never made before…and probably weird faces, too…when he placed his beautiful organ at her weeping opening. He barely touched her and she was gone like she had never gone before.

  He waited until she came back to earth and then slowly, painstakingly entered her, driving her heart rate and her nerve endings up and up. By the time he was seriously thrusting she was about ready to explode again and she did. And when it was over and he pulled her close and held her as they slowly came back to earth, it was almost even better than the sex. Almost.

  They lay there, just enjoying the closeness, and then she said quietly, “I’m going to be requiring monogamy.”

  When he didn’t respond at first, she thought he had fallen asleep. Then he wrapped his arms around her tighter and squeezed.

  “You’re awfully bossy.”

  “And don’t you forget it, Muskman.”

  He laughed and put his lips to her ear. Almost whispering, he said, “I love you, Ellie, and I will try my damnedest to never hurt you.”

  She turned to him, smiling. “Back at ‘ya.”

  “There is one thing, though.”

  Uh-oh, this could be the deal breaker. You thought you were home free, didn’t you?

  “What?” she whispered, terrified to hear the answer.

  “I’m afraid of your mother.”

  She let out a peel of laughter. “Oh, that. I am too. But together we can take her.”

  He hugged her tighter. “Together we can do anything.”

  Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about.

  Epilogue

  Three years later

  At a downtown Los Angeles theater, a packed audience watched the opening credits of the world premiere of “Muskman: Passion’s Revenge” as Russell’s voice sang the catchy theme song:

  It’s Muskman, at dusk, man,

  Who rights the wrongs of the heart,

  And if you’re smart you’ll put your heart

  In the hand of the man who wears the fuzz…

  Muskman, at dusk, man…

  The opening credits listed Ellie Lambert Olshevski as screenwriter and introduced Russell Owens as Muskman. Spencer Keys also received credit for creating the characters of Muskman, Penelope and Dex Druther, and Roger and Bonnie served as executive producers. In the first scene, Russell, dressed in civilian clothes, was gardening at a wealthy estate. As dusk approached, he lifted an eyebrow and cocked his head…love was in the air.

  In the audience, Ellie Olshevski leaned over to her husband, Russell. “I love that look. You do the eyebrow thing so well.”

  “Shh!” scolded Ethan, their two-year-old son, who was wearing a little Muskman costume.

  Dee leaned over and patted her grandson’s hand, smiling at her son. He had found his soul mate, and she had found her talent. Dee was happy in her condo, and Russ had found a new home that meant more to him than the one he grew up in, because Ellie and Ethan were there. Life was good.

  Also in the audience were Toni and Rob Russo, who had started their own business, T & R Detective Agency, a year and a half ago with not so surprising success. They had enjoyed their gambit in Las Vegas so much, they decided to make a living at it. They did a little divorce and surveillance work but also handled everything from suspected fraud to corporate espionage. Toni was in her element and Rob was, too. He looked years younger. That aluminum foil calibrating business must have been hard on him. The pair still demonstrated great love for each other and their daughter, who was looking at colleges that had good drama departments.

  Sitting behind them were Wesley and Chantella with their toddler Dexter and baby Tessa. Ellie glanced over her shoulder and saw that Chantella was nursing Tessa. The young couple had undergone perhaps the biggest changes since the convention and the shutting down of Full Court Press. Chantella, who now had normal, short blond hair and dressed fairly conservatively, at least on TV, had become a weathergirl on the Casa Bella NBC affiliate. Wesley also had short hair now. He still liked his leather, though he had toned it down a bit, wearing a leather vest or leather accessories. Both Wesley and Chantella had given up their nose rings, not because they had become more conservative but for the simple reason that Dexter, as an infant, would latch onto the nose rings with a killer grip that was not so much cute as it was extremely painful. Wesley worked in his father’s auto repair shop during the day, while still pursuing his art. He already had sold one children’s book about medieval knights and had a contract for three more.

  While the old friends enjoyed the Muskman premier, a four-alarm fire raged and spectators gazed in awe and horror as the Hubba Hubba warehouse in San Francisco burned to the ground. In his cell at High Desert State Prison in California, Sludge Dupree checked his watch and smiled. He should have some insurance money coming in soon. He didn’t know there was a flag at the police department on that location if
anything suspicious happened. As Sludge lounged on his bed gloating, a call was already being put into the T & R Detective Agency in Bella Casa to investigate the fire. The agency was designated on the flag to ferret out the truth.

  Across the pond in France, Roger and Spencer strolled along the Mediterranean beach, enjoying the mild surf and the feel of the sand between their toes. They had only taken a few steps when several adoring fans in skimpy bikinis approached them excitedly for autographs. Who brings paper and pens to the beach? Adoring fans, apparently. Spencer just looked at Roger and smiled. Roger smiled back. They might be old and a little bit the worse for wear, but they were gods.

  Up ahead, Bonnie and Tiffy, their hair up in ponytails, were relaxing in beach chairs, Tiffy in a red bikini and Bonnie in a black one-piece suit with a filmy white coverup. Bonnie looked down the beach at the men, shaking her head, smiling, then turned to the younger woman.

  “Hashtag, hand me a comic, would you, Tiffy?”

  * * *

  About the Author

  Award-winning scribe Joyce Armor is a former television writer (“The Love Boat,” “WKRP in Cincinnati,” “Remington Steele”) and the author of numerous books, ranging from romance novels to parenting and humor books and a combination thereof. Her credits also include hundreds of newspaper and magazine columns and articles, children’s poetry and several produced plays. The mother of two grown sons, she lives in Mentor, Ohio, with her current soulmate, Darby, an Aussie/spaniel mix, and spends much of her non-reading, non-writing time walking/running/getting dragged by the dog.

  Email: joycearmor@yahoo.com