Scorpio Love

by S. Tamanaha

  He called her at least five times a week over the next month, surprising her and himself. Often he would call after a long and irritating day workday because he found her voice and her words of support soothing. Sometimes he’d call when he was feeling good because he wanted to share that with her as well. A couple of times he called in the middle of one of those Hollywood parties that he hated so much. She was always there, ready to talk, willing to listen, and able for some reason to make him feel better. Then he called one evening and a man answered her phone. He could hear a lot of people in the background, talking and laughing.

  “Is Susan there?” John asked. He felt irritated although he knew that he had no right to be.

  “Hey, where’s Susan?” the man called out. He sounded a little drunk. “Susie ... where are you?”

  He heard her then. “Charlie, please don’t call me Susie unless you want me to start calling you Chuck and what are you doing with my phone?”

  “You have a call—a guy.”

  “Please give me my phone and try to behave,” he heard her say. “Here’s your beer.” Then she got on the line. “Hello?”

  “It’s John. Looks like I called at a bad time.”

  “Actually, you called at the perfect time. Let me move outside.”

  Finally, there was quiet. “I’m sorry. It’s a little chaotic in there.”

  “Party?” He tried to conceal his annoyance.

  “Sort of. My friends wanted to come over and karaoke. There’s a contest on Sunday so they wanted to practice their songs.”

  “Even that drunk guy?”

  “Charlie? Actually Charlie’s a decent singer. Problem is, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him totally sober. I hope he’s sober during the day though. He drives a cab. There’s another example of wrong reasons.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Him and his wife, Trish. The both of them are just sort of ... messed up.”

  “He’s married.” John felt relieved.

  “Most of the people in there are married. Karaoke is a great way for husbands and wives to go out together and not really have to talk to each other.”

  He laughed. “They sound like they’re doing a lot of talking.”

  “Oh, they are. Just not with their spouses.”

  He laughed again.

  “So glad that I can talk to you and get away from that for a while though,” she said. “They’ve been playing the music way too loud and I was getting a headache. What are you up to this evening?”

  “Just trying to unwind. Actually, I was calling to find out if your offer was still good—about letting me stay there for a few days.”

  She was completely stunned, but she hid her true feelings well. “Sure. So you’re actually going to take a vacation?”

  “I’m thinking I’d like to find out what one feels like.”

  “When were you planning on coming?” She suddenly felt nervous.

  “That’s what I needed to talk to you about. They’re going to stop shooting for a few days in a couple of weeks because of the holidays. It’s the only break that I’m really going to have—I’m even working on New Year’s Eve—but it would mean that I’d be over there during Christmas and I don’t want to get in the way of any plans you might have for the holidays or anything.”

  Two weeks. She never expected that she would be seeing him again so soon. “Actually, that would be a perfect time for you to come,” she said. “My work slows down over the holidays and the only thing that happens on Christmas is that my sister has a lunch or dinner over at her place and I usually try to find a reason not to go because my other sister is always there. But don’t you go home for the holidays?”

  “No, I usually just call my mother and send her something. We’ve never been too big about celebrating Christmas. Are you sure it’s okay?”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” she assured him as she made a mental list of all the things that she had to do before he arrived. “I look forward to showing you Hawaii during the holiday season.”

  “What kind of clothes should I bring?”

  “Oh, casual mostly. Shorts, jeans, tee-shirts, and a jacket just in case it rains or gets a little cold. Well, for us it’s cold, you probably won’t think so. Maybe bring one nice outfit so that I can take you to a Waikiki show. My friend performs in it.”

  “Okay,” he said happily. “I’m looking forward to this.”

  “Me too. It’s been a while since I’ve played tourist guide.”

  “By the way, I heard you tell your friend Charlie not to call you Susie. You don’t like that name?”

  “Hate it.”

  “Why?”

  “It just conjures up an image in my mind of some little cutesy type who wears pink and white polka dots and ruffles. That’s not me. The only person that I allowed to call me Susie was my mother. She probably wanted a Susie.”

  He grinned. “So you’re not the girlie girl type?”

  “Sorry to disappoint.”

  “I’m not disappointed. I’m not sure whether I’d feel as comfortable with you if you were. So, what type are you?”

  “I don’t know. I like to get dressed up every now and then but mostly I wear pants and tops in dark colors so I don’t have to worry about getting them a little dirty. I’ve never had a professional manicure. I cut my hair at Supercuts, not at some fancy salon. I wear very little jewelry if any. I’m allergic to costume jewelry anyway. I hate shopping, especially at the mall. I prefer good food in a dive rather than fancy but not that great food in an expensive restaurant. And I used to take my father to boxing and wrestling matches when other girls were playing with their dolls. How would you categorize a person like that? Tomboy, maybe?”

  “Real,” he said, “and unpretentious”.

  “Well ... thank you.” She was touched by his compliment.

  “Hey, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you mind that I call you so often?”

  “Of course not,” she replied, hoping that he wouldn’t stop calling.

  “Why is it that you never call me? You have my number.” It bothered him a little that she didn’t seem to have the same desire to talk to him as he did to talk to her.

  Her explanation was simple. “I don’t have any idea what your schedule is like. I wouldn’t want to call in the middle of your exercising time, or a meeting, or a date. That would be awkward. You already know that I don’t date so that’s never going to happen if you call me.”

  “I told you, I don’t really go out on dates either. Wrong reasons remember?”

  “Well, even so, you still go to a lot of Hollywood parties and meetings and things. It just seems to make more sense to let you call me when it’s convenient for you, doesn’t it?”

  “I guess so,” he said unconvincingly.

  “Is it bothering you that you’re always doing the calling? Because I don’t think that friends should keep score of those things, but if it’s really bothering you, you could hang up now and then I could call you right back. I know I wouldn’t be interrupting anything.”

  He laughed a little. “Okay, you’re right, I shouldn’t be keeping score. I just didn’t want to be a bother.”

  “You could never be a bother,” she assured him in a completely serious tone. “I enjoy our talks. I look forward to them.”

  It felt good to him to know that. “Me too,” he said.

  He continued to call her frequently over the next couple of weeks. He found himself growing increasingly excited about taking his first real vacation in over five years—and seeing her again.

  His acceptance of her invitation was completely unexpected and now she was wondering if inviting him to stay with her had been a good idea. Her heart ached to see him again, but he was a Scorpio, like herself. Although she was not the type to read her daily horoscope in the newspaper, she had always inherently believed in the basic concept of astrology—that the positions of the planets and the Moon and the Sun with their gravitat
ional effects on Earth could affect the personality of a person. It simply made sense to her. If the gravitational pull of the moon and the sun was powerful enough to affect Earth’s oceans, why shouldn’t their gravitational pull and that of the planets also affect the development of a child in a water-filled womb? Why shouldn’t they affect people even after they were born since the human body was comprised mostly of water? If John was a true Scorpio, then although he may not yet be fully aware of it, he had the power to sense things as she did. She didn’t want him to be able to sense how she felt about him.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  John’s flight arrived at the Honolulu International Airport in the early afternoon of December 20. He rarely slept on long plane rides; even on overnight flights, the constant hum of the engine only allowed for intermittent dozing. But, for some reason, he had slept for most of the five hours of this flight despite the engine noise and the continual talking and movement of the passengers in the cabin. It was as though once the plane left LAX, his mind finally accepted the fact that he really was on a vacation and allowed his body to rest. He couldn’t be called back for an emergency voice-over for the series or a re-shoot of any photos. He had placed a voice message on his answering machine at home and on his cell phone, as well as an automated message on his email account, informing everyone that he was unreachable until December 28 when he would be back in L.A. The only person who could reach him now was his agent who was under strict orders not to do so unless it was a “dire non-business related emergency”. He was free from that life—at least temporarily—and looking forward to spending time with her.

  Susan had told him to wait outside of the terminal by the passenger loading zone and that she would pick him up. As she drove to the airport, her stomach felt as though she was on a roller coaster and her entire body was tense with anticipation.

  “Stop it,” she commanded herself aloud. She couldn’t continue to feel this way; she wouldn’t survive the seven days that he would be with her.

  She spotted him immediately—standing on the curb with his luggage beside him and dressed in jeans, boots, and a lightweight pullover sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He wore sunglasses and a baseball cap, probably to keep from being recognized. It was strange but except for the boots and cap, they were dressed almost exactly like. She pulled her van up in front of him, took a deep breath, and got out to open her back hatch.

  “Hi.” she greeted him casually, smiling. “You made it. You can throw your luggage in here.”

  “Hi.” He smiled that dazzling smile of his and tossed his luggage into the van then climbed into the passenger seat.

  “Here, this is for you.” She reached into the back seat and retrieved an orchid lei that she slipped over his head. She gave him a peck on the cheek, making it as perfunctory as possible because she just did not want to feel that electrical shock. “You can’t be a tourist without a lei to welcome you to the islands.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “It’s beautiful.” He couldn’t tell if it was the lei or her that smelled so wonderful.

  “Okay, they don’t let us stay here too long so we’d better get going before security starts to yell at us.” She pulled away from the curb and took the lane that led back to the highway. “How was your flight?”

  “Good. Slept most of the way. It’s great to finally be here. I can hardly believe it. Seven days in Paradise. Who’d have thought?”

  “Well, I’m glad that you made it. Do you want to go straight to the house or do you want me to take the scenic route home just for you?”

  “You’re the driver.”

  “Okay, since it’s your first time here, let’s take the scenic route. I’ll give you a quick tour.”

  She drove through downtown Honolulu showing him Iolani Palace, which was decorated with lanterns for the holidays, and the statue of King Kamehameha.

  “Kamehameha the Great, Conqueror of the Islands,” she said. “He’s credited with putting all of the Hawaiian Islands under one rule and forming the Kingdom of Hawaii. That’s not what he actually looked like though. Apparently, the person who did the sculpture did it in Europe and some people say that he patterned it after a Roman soldier, not a Hawaiian.”

  She pointed out the State Capitol building, City Hall with its usual holiday displays, the Missionary Houses and Kawaihao Church.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked. “Or did you eat on the plane?”

  “I just slept on the plane. I wouldn’t mind some food.”

  “Do you eat fast food? Other than pizza? There’s a Jack-In-The-Box right down this street. We can eat at the beach.”

  He smiled. “Don’t tell anyone but I love fast food. Everybody thinks that I follow some sort of diet to stay in shape so I let them think it.”

  She went through the drive-through and ordered a Jumbo Jack for him, a Breakfast Jack for herself, fries to share, and two Cokes. He offered to pay but she declined. Then she drove to Ala Moana Beach. Since the students were on their winter break, the beach was more crowded than it usually would have been on a Thursday afternoon, but there was still sufficient parking. She parked her van in the Magic Island parking lot, locked it, and led him over to a partially shaded bench from where they could see the beach and the ocean on one side and the boat harbor and Waikiki hotels on the other. There were only a few scattered clouds in the blue sky, a pleasant trade wind was blowing down from the mountains, and at least a dozen surfers were enjoying the two to four-foot swells breaking beyond the reef.

  She pointed to two tall buildings located directly across from the boat harbor. “That’s where my father wanted to buy two condos about twenty years ago.”

  “That place must have a fabulous view,” John remarked.

  “A fabulous view that will never be obstructed,” she pointed out. “Because of the boat harbor.”

  “What happened? Why didn’t he buy them?”

  Susan paused, looking at the buildings. “My mother wouldn’t agree. She said they were too expensive at eighty-five thousand each and she didn’t want to struggle with another mortgage. They’re worth close to a million each today.” She shook her head slightly and then changed the subject. She pointed to the cluster of tall buildings past the boat harbor. “All those buildings over there ... that’s Waikiki. And there’s Diamond Head. I’ll drive you through there next.”

  They finished their meal and then she drove him through Waikiki, past the many hotels and the famous beach that was smaller than he expected and crowded with tourists. She pointed out the location of the zoo and the aquarium and then drove him around Kapiolani Park.

  “And that’s Diamond Head close up,” she said pointing to the mountain behind the park. “They used to hold festivals in the crater long ago. I’ll take you beyond Waikiki to the scenic spots tomorrow if you want.” She looped around and was now driving along the Ala Wai Canal. There were several canoes gliding across the water, each filled with men who were obviously in training for something. “They’re practicing for the races this weekend,” she said.

  The brief tour completed, she headed home. Her residence was located a few blocks from Ala Moana Beach in a primarily commercial area. When she led him through the front door, he found himself in a space that reminded him of an art gallery or a lounge. There were paintings on all of the walls and a large flat-screen television on one end that was flanked by shelves filled with sound equipment and CDs. Off to one side were two microphones sitting on stands and across from the microphones there was a sectional couch and square ottomans that could be used for additional seating. Next to the microphones was a digital piano.

  “This is where the band rehearses,” she said. “And where I air dry my paintings. And where I have meetings and once in a while a karaoke night for my friends.”

  “Oh yeah, Charlie,” he said.

  She smiled. “Yes, those guys.”

  “You painted these?” he asked, looking around at the paintings that were hanging on the walls.

&nbs
p; “Yes, it’s my Yin-Yang or Perfect Balance series. There’s the actual sign. Black entwined with white with a dot of the opposite color on each side and all contained in a perfect circle. Opposites, yet in perfect balance. And then the other paintings show my versions of that theme—night and day, sun and moon, man and woman, although I’m not sure about the balance of that one, and the solid white and the multi-color koi.”

  “I like them,” he said, marveling at her talent. Once again, she had surprised him.

  “Thank you. Oh, didn’t you say that you play the piano?”

  “Yeah, classical stuff.”

  “Well, that’s a full sized piano. Feel free to use it if you ever want to play. In fact, I’d love to hear you play.”

  “Do you play regular piano?” he asked.

  “I learned how to play classical music when I was about eight through high school, but then I sold my piano for tuition money during college so I’m very rusty. Mostly I just play contemporary pieces these days.” She headed towards a closed door at the back of the room. “The living quarters are back here.” When she opened the door part way, a little white ball of fur came scampering out to greet them.

  “Hi baby. Told you I’d be back soon.” She picked up the dog which kissed her repeatedly. “This is Angel. Angel say hello to our guest.”

  John put down one of the bags that he was carrying and reached out and scratched her behind her ear gently. Angel licked his hand. “She’s really cute”, he said, smiling.

  “Like I said—love of my life. And she’s not wearing a dress.”

  He laughed as she gave the dog a hug and a big kiss and then put her down. “Come on Angel, let’s show him the rest of the place.”

  She opened the door and they stepped into a room that took him by surprise. It wasn’t huge but it was spacious, with everything laid out in an open floor plan—kitchen in the corner towards the far wall, a dining room area across from the kitchen, and, closest to where they stood, a living room area with simple but sleek furniture and a flat-screen television. Between the dining area and the livingroom was a small Christmas tree, already decorated, with presents piled beneath it. On the far back wall, glass sliding doors opened up to a patio and a backyard with a pool. He felt immediately comfortable in this place.