Timing Is Everything

by Steinsiek, Sabra Brown;

  * * *

  Taylor didn’t fare much better. He always had trouble sleeping after a concert. Tonight, though, it was more than the concert keeping him awake. He was amazed at how quickly he’d connected with Laura. There had been other women he’d met on tours, but none of them had ever had this kind of impact on him. It wasn’t just the physical attraction, although that was certainly there. There was something about Laura that spoke to his soul. As he stared out the window at the lights of Albuquerque, he found himself wishing that he could cancel the next stop on the tour and stay here with Laura for just a little while longer.

  * * *

  Laura finally woke up mid-morning, grateful that she’d arranged to go in late to work. As she opened the curtains on another beautiful New Mexico day, a plane flew overhead and her thoughts turned to Taylor, who was long gone by now. Determined to get on with her life, she called Beth and arranged to meet her for lunch at the Pyramid before she officially came into work.

  * * *

  Beth could tell that something had happened to Laura. They’d been friends too long for her to miss the subtle change.

  “So, how was last night?”

  “Can’t I even order lunch first?”

  “Nope, already ordered for you. I thought it would give you more time to tell me the details.”

  “Thanks,” she laughed as the waitress placed a bowl of her favorite green chile chicken soup in front of her, “but I think we have to quit spending so much time together!”

  “Too late for that. Now eat, so you can tell me what happened.”

  For a few minutes the two women ate in silence. Finally, Laura put down her spoon and picked up her soda.

  “There’s nothing to tell.” At her friend’s raised eyebrows, Laura continued, “I swear, it’s true!”

  As Laura described the concert to her, Beth noticed a light in her eyes as she talked about Taylor. This was serious. She’d never seen Laura look like this when talking about anyone in all their years as friends.

  “Then he walked me to the door, took my phone number and e-mail address, and left. That was it, Beth, nothing more. And this morning he headed out for the next stop on the tour. I’ll just be a memory of ‘that strange reporter in New Mexico.’ Right now, I have a story to file. Let’s get back to the paper.”

  Chapter 6

  A week later, Laura found her desk almost obscured by a crystal vase of red roses. Her heart rose when her first thought was that they were from Taylor. She hadn’t heard from him since he’d left. She had checked her e-mail regularly and stayed home in the evenings, hoping he would call. She was disappointed to open the card and read:

  Dinner Friday? I miss you.

  Cary

  “Pretty impressive.” Beth’s voice came from behind her.

  “Overwhelming, actually. They’re too big for my desk. I can’t even see my computer!” Laura tried to keep the disappointment from her voice. She’d been such an idiot, thinking that someone like Taylor Morgan could care about a nobody like her.

  “Laura Elizabeth Collins, anyone but you would be thrilled to get flowers like these!” She leaned closer and whispered, “Are they from Taylor?”

  “No, they’re from Cary. We’re still trying to find a time to get together for dinner.”

  “These are a dinner invitation? I don’t think so, Laura. Looks to me like Cary wants a lot more than dinner. When do I get to meet this guy?”

  “Eventually, Beth.” Laura tucked the card back in the envelope and put it in her desk drawer. “I’ll talk to you later. Right now I have to go see what Robert wants.”

  Beth knew Laura had been hoping the flowers were from Taylor. She hadn’t mentioned him, but Beth knew that Laura had been well on her way to being in love with Taylor Morgan. Beth had been hoping, too. Since Tomás had died, Laura had withdrawn. She hadn’t dated anyone for two years. When Cary came into the picture, Beth had hoped things would change. Laura had gone out with him a couple of times, but when Taylor came into—then left—the picture, she had reverted back to her solitude.

  * * *

  Laura knew that it made no sense to be this disappointed about the flowers. Wishing they were from Taylor was stupid! She hadn’t heard from him since he left and probably never would. It was time to get on with her life. She shook off her mood as she opened the door to Robert’s office. She’d call Cary as soon as this meeting was over and tell him ‘yes’ to dinner for Friday.

  * * *

  When Laura opened the door on Friday night, she found Cary…and another dozen roses. As he handed them to her, she laughed and said, “Thanks, Cary, but they weren’t really necessary.”

  “Maybe not,” he said with a grin, “but it’s easier than coming to the door empty- handed.”

  “Come in while I find a vase for these. There’s wine on the table if you’d like to pour it.”

  Cary poured the wine, then turned to survey her apartment. It was the first time he’d been there, since, on the few dates they’d had, she had preferred to meet him at the restaurant. It was small, but a comfortable size for one person. There were bookshelves everywhere. He glanced over the eclectic collection of titles that included everything from children’s literature to philosophy. What spaces weren’t filled with books held pictures or knick-knacks. He was looking at a framed photo when she came back into the room. “That’s my family,” she said as she placed the roses in the middle of the table.

  “The young man?” There was a faintly suspicious tone to his question.

  “My brother, Tomás. He died two years ago.”

  “I’m sorry. That must have been rough. Gang-related?” Laura stopped and looked at him, appalled at his question.

  “What would make you ask that?”

  “Well, that seems to be the number one cause of young Hispanic male deaths here.”

  “Cary, are you always this judgmental?” Laura was suddenly furious. “My brother was at the top of his medical school class and expected to do great things. He fought for two years before the cancer finally killed him.”

  “Wait, Laura. I’m sorry. I didn’t really think. I’ve been working on this series on the gang problems, and it’s coloring everything for me right now. You’ve been on stories like that, right? I really didn’t mean it to come out the way it did.”

  Laura’s face was flushed with the anger she was trying to control. Cary was very tempted to tell her she was beautiful when she was angry, but he decided that might not be a good move, even if it were true. He decided to try another route.

  “Laura, I can see I’ve really spoiled the evening. I’d probably better go ahead and leave. Maybe when you’ve had some time, we can try this again.” He put down his wine glass and headed for the door. It was a gamble he’d tried with other women before. It usually worked.

  “Cary, wait.” Before turning around, he allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. It hadn’t failed this time, either. He turned to face her, one hand on the door handle. “Cary, I’m sorry. I overreacted. It really angers me when people make that kind of assumption about a local kid. If you’re willing to forget it, so am I. I’ve really been looking forward to this evening.”

  He gave her a slow smile and said, “Thanks, Laura. I’ve been looking forward to it, too. Shall we go now?”

  Chapter 7

  Two weeks later, Laura finally heard from Taylor. Logging on to check her e-mail at work, there had been the usual notes from cyber-friends and a deluge of messages from the sites she belonged to, including Taylor’s. As she scrolled through, looking for messages she should handle immediately, she saw an address she didn’t recognize. Barnum@eaglenet.com. The subject was simply, “Hi, Laura!” Her curiosity piqued, she had opened the message to read:

  Hi Laura,

  It’s me—Taylor, as in Phineas Taylor Barnum, the circus guy. Since he and I share a name a
nd my life often feels like a circus, I figured it would be an appropriate alias.

  We’re in Tampa now. It’s nice to be coming back to familiar surroundings every night. I didn’t realize how tired I was of hotel rooms.

  I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get in touch. I really enjoyed spending time with you in Albuquerque. I’d like to come back and visit when I actually have some time to enjoy it—especially if I can count on you to play friendly native guide?

  Taylor

  Laura stared at the screen. She’d quit waiting for him to get in touch and put him out of her mind. Now, here he was, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it, about him, about the possibility of a long-distance relationship. She was even less sure he was offering anything more than friendship. Complicating things further, Cary was now very much a part of the picture. They’d been dating steadily for the last couple of weeks and seemed to be building what could become a lasting relationship.

  Suddenly, she became aware of someone reading over her shoulder. “Beth! Do you mind?”

  Her friend shook her head and sat in the chair beside the desk. “No, I don’t mind at all! I just wanted to see what had the great Laura Collins so riveted.”

  “So, did you?”

  “What?”

  “Did you see?”

  “Looked like a cyber mash-note. Anyone I know?”

  “Stop it, Beth. You know good and well who it is.”

  “Um-hmm. So, are you going to let Taylor come over to play?”

  “I don’t know, Beth. I…I don’t know that I want to get involved with him…”

  “Really? I must have missed that part. What I saw wasn’t asking for anything but to see you if he ever got back this way.”

  “So, you think I’m reading too much into this?”

  “Hey, you’re the one who met him, not me. But it sounds like he enjoyed your company, liked Albuquerque, and would like to come back to visit sometime. No big thing.”

  Laura sighed. “You’re right…as usual. I’m overreacting.”

  “Are you going to tell him ‘yes’?”

  “Probably. And maybe—if you really behave yourself—if it ever happens, I’ll even introduce you.”

  The two women laughed, and Beth returned to her work area. Laura decided to wait until evening to respond. Besides having more privacy at home, it would give her time to decide what she wanted to say.

  * * *

  Taylor paced around the spacious living room of his Florida condo. It was dominated by a grand piano that sat at one end of the room in front of floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the bay. Now that he’d finally gotten up the nerve to send Laura a message, he was second-guessing the wisdom of doing it.

  His computer was on in the corner, the blank screen seeming to taunt him with the lack of response. He glanced at his watch and realized he had wasted an hour waiting for a message that probably wasn’t coming. This was crazy! He logged out and turned off the computer, then picked up his in-line skates and headed out the door. He had to work this off somehow, and exercise seemed to be the answer.

  He headed for the paved walk along Bayshore Drive. It drove his agent crazy that Taylor risked appearing in public without any protection, but Taylor refused to have security when he wasn’t on the road. When no expected to see him, he had an uncanny way of blending into a crowd and going unrecognized. Taylor knew some of the people he encountered knew who he was—he’d seen the startled looks on their faces—but no one had ever bothered him as he skated along Bayshore. It was as if the people out there saw him as one of their own and were willing to give him the space he needed. That was why he kept coming back here. It wasn’t “home” in the way Laura had meant, but it was as close as he was going to get.

  Taylor returned to find that he still faced a blank computer screen; well, empty at least, of the one message that he wanted to see. He mentally kicked himself for even sending it. Laura had life of her own. Why would she want to pursue a long-distance relationship?

  Picking up the phone, he dialed Annie’s number. When she answered, he said, “Hey, it’s me! Want to meet me for dinner at The Colonnade?” When they’d set a time, Taylor hung up the phone and ran up the stairs to shower.

  Chapter 8

  When Taylor got to the restaurant, Annie was waiting. She still looked and moved like a dancer, fine-boned and graceful. She had cut her sun-bleached blonde hair very short while he’d been on tour, and she didn’t look a whole lot older than her eleven-year-old daughter, Meg.

  “Hello, Taylor,” she said standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “It’s about time you called me. You’ve been back for days.”

  “You saw me after the concert the other night.”

  “Along with about five million other people!”

  Their banter was interrupted as they were seated and gave the waiter their order for the Colonnade’s famous pecan-crusted shrimp. Taylor selected a wine to go with dinner, and they settled in to catch up with each other.

  “So, how’d the rest of the tour go, Taylor? See anything interesting? Meet anyone? Actually have a life?”

  “Oh, yeah, Annie. There’s so much possibility of a life when you sleep ‘til noon, rehearse, perform, and travel on.”

  “My point exactly. Why do you think I left?”

  “It’s different for me, Annie. You know that. I’d die without it.”

  Contrite at teasing him, she reached out and took his hand. “I know, Taylor. I’d just like to see you have a little more.”

  “How’s Meg?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “A totally spoiled brat, thanks mostly to you, Taylor!”

  “She’s my goddaughter. I have a responsibility to spoil her. And she’s not a brat—which is more than I can say for her mother!”

  “OK, so she’s not a brat all the time. But she is eleven going on thirty, and she’s driving me crazy. She was not happy that I didn’t bring her tonight.”

  “You could have, you know.”

  “I know, but tomorrow is a school day. There has to be one grown-up in this threesome, Taylor. I wish you’d get married and have one of your own, then maybe you’d be more sympathetic.”

  Taylor didn’t respond right away, staring out over the bay as if seeing something else. When his silence stretched out, Annie finally called him back to the present. “Taylor? What’s up?”

  “Sorry, I must still be tired.”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Taylor Morgan! There’s something up with you. If you don’t want to talk about it, fine. But don’t lie to me.”

  “You’re right. There is something. I’m not ready to talk about it yet, but when I am, you’ll be the first to know, I promise.” He gave her a smile before they were interrupted by the waiter with their food.

  * * *

  Laura had trouble writing her article for tomorrow’s paper. Taylor’s e-mail had been in the back of her mind, and it had been a lot more interesting than writing a column about the new mayor and his entirely unoriginal plans for change at city hall. She was grateful she’d voted for his opponent so she didn’t have to take any responsibility for his election.

  Finally, she had finished and now she was home. She’d picked up dinner on the way—more fast food. She really needed to get down to her folks’ this weekend. Mom would see that she ate some real food for a change. After pouring a glass of wine, she changed into shorts and a T-shirt, pinned her hair on top of her head, and ate her solitary meal while she watched Jeopardy.

  At 7:00 she logged on. Opening her e-mail account, she quickly read through her messages, answering some, deleting others, saving those she’d have to deal with later. Finally, the only current message left was the one from Taylor. Hitting the reply button, she began to compose an answer.

  Hi Taylor,

  Barnum? And no one’s figured it out yet? Your fans must
be as dense as Lois Lane was with Clark Kent’s glasses.

  Actually, I’m kidding. It fooled me and seems a pretty good alias.

  It must be nice to be back on solid ground, so to speak. I hope you’re getting some rest. From what I saw while you were here, you must need it by now.

  So, what does Taylor Morgan do with his days when he’s not on tour? Tell me what Florida’s like. I’ve never been there.

  Laura

  She read back over what she’d written and decided it would have to do. After all, what could she say? Hitting the “send” button, Laura shut down the computer and took her wine out to the small balcony of her apartment.

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about Taylor. His message today had really had an impact she wasn’t expecting. Until she’d seen it there in her file, she hadn’t realized that, deep down, she’d still been looking for it every day. She hadn’t given him much thought since Cary had entered the picture—at least not that she’d admit to.

  Now that he had gotten in touch, she realized how much she’d been looking forward to it. There’d been something between them, some…spark, although that had a connotation she wasn’t willing to accept. Connection was a better word. There had been a connection that was almost instantaneous. She had to admit that she didn’t have the same kind of rapport with Cary. But, spending time with him certainly beat sitting home alone every night.

  Now, Taylor was back in her life, or would be if she let him. She didn’t know what he felt, what she felt. She had no idea where this was going, if it was going anywhere at all. Draining her glass, Laura returned to the living room. She was very tempted to open her e-mail file again, but, instead, picked up the new novel she was reading and headed for bed.