Kate looked great. She wore a deep blue dress and her hair was fresh from the salon. What point was I missing about her romantic difficulties? Any man would be lucky to be with a woman this beautiful, this smart, this clever, and this caring. Any man, that is, who wasn’t already in love with Melissa Argent. While playing matchmaker wasn’t in my suite of skills, a surprising thought flashed through my mind.
As she climbed into the passenger seat, Kate looked me over.
“Not bad. You should have polished your shoes, but we’ll forgive that.”
“You, on the other hand, look perfect.”
She smiled at the compliment. “I haven’t been to the Kennedy Center in the company of a handsome man in a while. Besides, I needed to go to the hairdresser anyway. Bruno said he missed me.” She gestured toward the bouquet that was sitting on the back seat. “I don’t suppose those are for me, huh?”
“Sorry.” I reached behind me and produced a single pink rose. “But this is.”
She beamed when I handed the flower to her. “You may be a compulsive maniac, but at least you’re a gentleman.”
I took her to Marcel’s where we ordered a white Burgundy and ate lobster pappardelle, loup de mer with beluga lentils, and bison strip loin. Melissa wouldn’t have ordered any of this – at least she wouldn’t have in our other world. I was so nervous about the evening to come that I could barely eat, but Kate had asked for a great meal and I wanted to deliver for her.
“Fabulous enough for you?” I said as we sipped coffee.
“You exceeded my expectations, Ken. That doesn’t happen very often.”
I smiled.
“Are you okay about tonight?” she said.
“I have a good feeling about it.”
“Don’t get crushed if nothing happens.”
I nodded and took another sip of coffee. “I have a good feeling about it.”
It was a quick walk to the Kennedy Center. The place was abuzz with finely attired patrons milling before the show. This was definitely an A-list crowd, and I recognized many faces from the worlds of politics and the arts. Few of them, however, had better seats than ours. Our comp tickets had put us in the orchestra, fourth row center.
The doors to the auditorium opened and the crowd began to make its way in. “Remember,” Kate said. “Nothing embarrassing.”
I smiled and hugged her arm as we walked into the theater. “I will be the model of comportment.”
As we sat waiting for the concert to begin, I felt myself getting antsy. My good humor evaporated as the reality of what I was doing there caught up with me. This wasn’t about seeing a show. Regardless of how brilliant it might be, it was merely preamble. I was on a mission – a mission that would begin in approximately two hours. Before midnight, my future would be defined.
The lights blinked and then darkened. Melissa strode onto the stage in a fluttery gown the orange of a Caribbean sunset. She began with the same piece she opened with in Seattle. Her second song, however, was something from the new album she was working on. Her performance was masterful, though I was too distracted to fully enjoy it. My hand reached into my jacket pocket to secure my backstage pass every five minutes, and I imagined repeatedly what would happen when our eyes met up close.
There was a huge ovation after Melissa’s encore, but Kate and I barely participated. “Come on,” I said over the din. I took her arm and pushed my way through our row, emerging into the aisle just before the crowd began to leave. We worked through this group and got to the backstage entrance. In spite of our haste, though, the reception line was already backed up and Melissa was nowhere in sight. We stood for an interminable period while more people lined up behind us. When was this thing going to start moving?
“You look a little insane,” Kate said.
“What do you mean?”
“You seem just a tiny bit overanxious. Calm down. We might be waiting a while. Here.” She walked over to a table laden with drinks and brought me a bottle of water. I sipped it and realized how dry my mouth was.
About ten minutes later, the line began to stir, slowly working its way into the next room. There must have been fifty people ahead of us, all of whom carried an air of self-importance. While these people might have admired her work, they would never have defined themselves as “fans.” They were here for a meet-and-greet because it was an entitlement.
Twenty minutes later, we were making real progress. Though Melissa was still far away, I could occasionally glimpse flashes of deep orange.
“Any longer and these flowers will die,” I said stiffly.
“Be patient. We’re getting there.”
Melissa really knew how to work this crowd of VIP’s. She smiled graciously and endlessly as she shook hands and signed autographs. My Melissa was also a pro at schmoozing, though when she did it up on the Hill her aims were very different. This Melissa regularly stumped for any number of charities, so maybe her goals weren’t that different at all.
Finally, after all the waiting, it was our turn.
Melissa stared through me for a moment. “Katie,” she said enthusiastically, and she hugged my companion for a full minute. Melissa stepped back and smiled. “You look so great. You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Just a few pounds and a different hair color, that’s all. You look fabulous. And you were wonderful up there tonight.”
“Thanks. I was a little nervous about this show for some reason. I’m glad you liked it. It’s so good to see you.”
Melissa and Kate reminisced for what seemed like an eternity while I shifted my weight from foot to foot and prayed for them to hurry up. At one point, Melissa called for her personal assistant (the legendary Jackeline, I assumed) and asked her to take Kate’s contact information. Finally, when I’d reached borderline frantic, Kate put her hand on my shoulder.
“Melissa, this is my friend Ken Timian. He’s a ridiculously big fan of yours.”
Melissa looked at me, and I swear that she recognized me. There was the same flicker of recall that I saw in her eyes when she came out of the music room after I scared away her piano teacher. Then she blinked, shook her head subtly, and stuck out her hand.
“Pleased to meet you, Ken.”
I tried to give her the bouquet – and dropped it. I hastily bent down to pick up the roses.
“These are for you,” I said, embarrassed.
“Thank you. That’s very sweet.” She accepted them and handed them over to her assistant. She shook my hand with a touch warm and familiar. “I wish I had more time to talk, but you will have to excuse me. There are so many people here tonight. These benefits are always harder after the show.” I looked behind me and noticed for the first time just how many people had gathered there. I heard her say, “Katie, I’ll call” and when I turned back, someone had taken my place in front of her. Melissa smiled as kindly to this man as she had to me.
As I stood helpless, another hand squeezed mine, firmer than Melissa’s. “Not exactly what you were looking for, huh?” Kate said gently and much more sympathetically than I expected as she pulled me away. “She seemed to like talking with you even if it was only for a moment. Why don’t I go see if I can bring her back after the line dies down? Just look around for a while. It’s not every day you get a chance to be backstage at the Kennedy Center.”
Kate headed back toward the reception line. As I glanced in that direction, I wondered how far the line extended into the other room. There was a very real chance that Melissa would be whisked away before it ended, even with all the movers and shakers in this crowd. It was hard to believe that I would get another personal audience with her.
It was also impossible to avoid the truth of what had happened here. I’d failed. I stood backstage, my mind a blank. The ghost of recognition in Melissa’s eyes remained a ghost. Our love was like one of those false suns that never generated enough fire
to become a blazing star.
Do something, my heart told me. But what could I do? I’d spoken with her. I’d touched her hand. Still, she was as gone now as she had ever been. She was no more than twenty feet away, yet the distance between us was an entire universe.
Kate joined me a few minutes later.
“Looks like it’s going to be a while. And you look like someone just shot your dog. Cheer up, we’ll figure something out.”
“What?” I said hopelessly.
“Something. I still have no idea what you thought was going to happen. Not to mention that I have no idea why I’m trying to go out of my way now to make something happen.”
“I feel empty.”
“Go get a drink. It’ll make you feel better. I’ll do my best to retrieve Melissa once the crowd thins out. Meanwhile, I saw two guys from the State Department speaking earnestly over there. I’m gonna see if I can eavesdrop.”
She kissed me on the cheek and walked away, glancing back at me with a smile that I tried in vain to return. Kate was enjoying herself, caught up in the moment. She was backstage at a celebrity event with half of Washington’s luminaries. Why wouldn’t she enjoy it?
I wandered aimlessly and found myself near the bar. I thought about taking Kate’s advice and having a drink or two or three, but I couldn’t even motivate myself to numbness. From this angle, I couldn’t see Melissa at all. My life without her had truly begun.
Without realizing it, I’d made my way to the front of the drinks line. Feeling stupid, I ordered a Coke just to have something in my hands. I then moved toward an empty table and sat, watching the bustle around me as though it was through a glass partition.
From this point forward, I would need to set new goals, accept lower standards. I would achieve at work – either here or in L.A. or in Maine or in Nepal – and I would try to make some real and lasting friendships. Kate was a good start, and now that Paul was free of his terrible marriage maybe we could develop the kinship we’d had in my other life. And I would date again someday. The idea seemed preposterous to me at the moment, but at some point I would most likely date again. Once I came to accept those lower standards.
I could live without Melissa. I so completely didn’t want to, but I could do it. I would always have the knowledge that I helped her, and the memory of our last touch just minutes ago.
I’m not sure how long I was sitting there. I was dimly aware that the crowd had thinned, that the room wasn’t as loud or boisterous anymore. There was less soda in my glass as well, though I don’t remember drinking any of it. Then I felt a hand on my shoulder, a gossamer touch, a gentle, tentative one.
“Excuse me,” the voice said and I turned to it.
Melissa was staring at me curiously. She looked out toward the crowd and smiled professionally, then turned back to me and tilted her head. “Hi. We spoke a while ago. Your name is Ken, right?”
I moved to stand up, feeling the world swirl around me, wondering if my legs would hold me. “Yes, yes it is.”
“Do we know each other? Have we met before?”
I took a deep breath and jammed my suddenly sweaty palms in my pockets. “It’s possible.” I wanted to sound casual. I didn’t want to frighten her by letting her know how much it meant to me to talk to her.
“Your face seems awfully familiar, and I feel like I should know who you are. You will have to forgive me. I’m very bad at this.”
“It’s okay. You must meet millions of people.”
She smiled. “I do. But this doesn’t usually happen to me. Do we know each other?”
I began to warm to this moment. Suddenly I didn’t feel like I was chasing after Melissa, but simply talking to her. Talking as we had thousands and thousands of times. “I think we might. Maybe we can go someplace and try to figure it out.”
She hesitated.
“You’re busy, I know,” I said.
Melissa bit her lip and then nodded with a little smile. “That’s okay. There’s a private room down the hall where we can talk.”
“Is it okay for you to leave? What about your adoring crowd?”
“This crowd?” she said, looking around. “I’m not sure anyone will miss me. They’ll be perfectly happy adoring themselves.”
We walked away together and I saw her catch the eye of someone in her entourage and nod subtly. The aide returned this with a somewhat confused glare, but Melissa didn’t let it deter her. I followed her into a small room off a corridor, and she closed the door behind us, leaving it open just a crack.
She gestured me toward a chair and sat on the sofa next to it. She studied me silently and I bathed myself in her presence. In that moment, I realized that my memory of Melissa hadn’t done her justice, as vivid as I believed it to be. Neither had the photos on her website or my perspective from an orchestra seat. This close, Melissa was more than beautiful. She was inspiring. If she hadn’t spoken, I don’t know that I ever would have. I was certain I could happily stay in this precise moment forever.
“So why do I think I know you, Ken?”
“We’ve been together before,” I said. My voice seemed thick to me, as though time slowed. “I can’t imagine you noticed me.”
“At a concert?”
I nodded, not knowing what else to do. There was no chance I was going to mention our other meeting and risk driving Melissa away.
Her brow furrowed. Again, she tilted her head. From every angle, her face was magnificent. “By any chance, were you at my performance in Seattle a couple of weeks ago?”
The question stunned me. I couldn’t help but laugh. “You saw me there?”
Melissa seemed absolutely baffled by this. “I don’t usually notice faces in the audience. There are a lot of them, and light doesn’t make it easy. But when I took my bows that night, I remember making eye contact with someone and getting this unusual sensation. A very, very unusual sensation. That was you, wasn’t it?”
“That was me, but I can’t believe you remember that. I thought you really saw me, but then I told myself it couldn’t be possible. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
Melissa looked at the floor. “I didn’t say it made me uncomfortable. It was just…unusual.” She hesitated for a moment and seemed confused, as though she was trying to relive the experience.
“It didn’t make you uncomfortable?”
“No,” she said dreamily, “not uncomfortable.” She smiled at me, though at the same time she seemed very far away. Then her eyes darted away and when she looked back at me, I could see she’d snapped out of whatever had taken her. “Did you like the show?”
“It was amazing. I didn’t just enjoy the music, or even the musician. I enjoyed watching you. It was Melissa Argent the person who made the night sparkle.”
Melissa’s expression warmed. “I get many compliments for my work, but that’s the first time anyone has said anything like that to me.”
I leaned forward, so close I could have easily touched her if I had the nerve. “Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?” The words escaped my lips, propelled by sheer longing, even as logic screamed that I was acting too hastily.
I could tell from the look on Melissa’s face that I’d gone too far too fast. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I don’t meet fans for dinner.” Her tone was formal, her words automatic from long practice.
I tried to take a step back, to return us to the right path. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be too forward. But I felt something that night, and I’m feeling something now.”
Melissa’s expression softened again. “Kate’s a good friend of yours?”
“We’ve known each other for years. She’ll vouch for the fact that I’m completely harmless.” I wondered if Kate would do anything of the sort, given my recent behavior.
“I’m not an impulsive person,” she said carefully.
“Some
times it’s important to act on your impulses. Have dinner with me.”
I had no idea how to read her at that moment. Had I overplayed my hand? Had I blundered the most perfect opportunity I’d ever have?
“I’m heading back west tomorrow night. But call me in the morning. I’ll have Jackeline give you my private number. I’m staying at the Mandarin Oriental. Perhaps we could meet for lunch.”
My heart surged, though I tried to maintain a modicum of calm. “I’ll do that.”
Melissa shook her head. I could tell she was wondering why she’d extended that invitation. She looked at the door.
“I have to be going. I really can only disappear for so long during these things.”
She stood and I joined her. I extended my hand and she took it, allowing the touch to linger. “I’m very glad we met, Melissa.”
She still seemed baffled. “So am I,” she said softly. She let go of my hand and headed toward the door. I let her go alone, not wanting her to think I was attaching myself to her. I didn’t want to do anything to make her think twice about taking my call tomorrow.
As she passed through the doorway, she turned back to me. There was a gleam in her eyes.
Chapter 23
Something Momentous
I skipped work the next day. It would have been pointless for me to go in, and maybe even a little dangerous for my clients. There was a lilt in Sharon’s voice when I called her to cancel my meetings.
“This is so good for you,” she said.
“What is?”
“Whatever you’re doing instead of coming in to work.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you almost never do it. That means it must be worth it.”
I found this conversation a little befuddling, but the warmth in Sharon’s voice moved me. I recognized it from another lifetime. “Sharon, if things go the way I hope they will today, there might be a few more days like this.”
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