by Terri Lee
“Well, he’s the best. How’s it been having her here with you?”
“It’s been good. Like old times. I mean, old times. She's helping out at the Playhouse; she comes with me when I teach. And Nora... dear God Nora's in heaven.”
“I'll bet.”
“Yeah, actually this arrangement will work out great when I leave on the book tour. They can watch over one another. The book tour.” Natalie let the phrase rest on her tongue. “I never thought I'd be saying a line like that.”
“And what a tour you've got. Johnny, Phil, Oprah, and Barbara.”
“You name dropper you.” Natalie grinned.
“How you feeling about all of this?” Monty squinted her way.
“Not going to lie. A little anxious. But honestly, I'm feeling like a racehorse at the starting gate, I'm ready to run.”
“There's my girl.” Monty reached over and squeezed Natalie's hand. “Why walk when you can run.?”
The book was a success. And after a couple of interviews, Natalie became an expert at swatting away unwanted questions, while wearing a smile. In the beginning, she'd set perimeters for herself, drawing an imaginary protective circle around the ones she loved. It was her job to make sure journalists with a pen or a microphone stayed just outside the circle in a friendly jousting match.
It helped that the case hadn't gone to court yet and her pat answer, “We're not allowed to talk about the case,” had to suffice. Even if she had to repeat it a couple of times to get the point across.
Through it all, her anxiety lived below the surface. She’d come to terms with it over the years, realizing that it didn’t make her weak. It was simply part of who she was. She could have anxiety and still function. She could have anxiety and still do a book signing. She could have anxiety and still do an interview. It was all about managing expectations and reminding herself that she was in charge.
Crowds swelled across the country at each appearance and Natalie marveled at her fans who thought nothing of standing in line for hours to get a signed copy of My Turn. They came with movie posters and vintage magazines. She signed t-shirts and newspapers. Scrawling her name across them all, she smiled into a thousand cameras as the adoring and the adored collided in bookstores across America.
She found herself staying long past her scheduled time to ensure that everyone who came out got their signed copy and a picture. She stayed until she was half-blind from flash photography and until her hand cramped, making it impossible to hold the pen. But when she fell into bed at night it was with some of the most satisfying sleep she'd ever experienced.
Today she was back on home turf. Or close enough to it. Her last stop was at The Well Fed Head Bookstore, in San Francisco. The store had a large assembly room for events like this and for authors, it was a matter of pride to be asked to do a reading at The Head. There would be a Q and A period afterwards, followed by book signings and more pictures. Although she was looking forward to it, she was also looking forward to the fact that this was the last stop on the tour. Tonight, she would sleep in her own bed.
“The house is packed,” Melody whispered as she returned from the front of the store. Melody was a sweet girl the publishers had sent along on the trip to manage the minutia at each stop. Along with her partner, Matt, the two of them made sure she had everything she needed at the signing tables. And one of them was always there to finally whisk her away at the end of the day.
“Let's do this.” Natalie stepped forward and squared her shoulders.
Applause was thunderous and Natalie stood temporarily blinded in the spotlight. Her feet firmly planted on the old wooden floor that had held so many others before her. She knew she was barely worthy of the title of author, but for today she would play the part with relish and give her audience what they came for.
“Thank you. Thank you so much for coming out in this beautiful San Francisco weather.”
Natalie joked. The damp crowd roared their approval. She turned her head to the left, looking at the life-size mockup of the book cover. “What in the heck is she grinning about?”
She had the crowd eating out of her hand. She took them with her on a journey that started in Hollywood in 1947. The room was still as she read her final passage for the day.
“If London has its tea, then Rome has its coffee. Rome’s coffee, much like any other Roman attraction allows one to be absorbed in the origins of a grand, timeless event. A culture somehow unencumbered by the forever shifting trends.
“Rome was a magical prescription, the slow, unhurried pace of daily life, the art, architecture, and yes, even the coffee, all worked in tandem to pull me from the wreckage. I will always credit Italy for part of my healing.”
As the line snaked around the room, one after another stepped forward, the book opened to the title page ready for Natalie to ink her name along with best wishes to Tom or Sue or Kelly.
She was tired and when she saw Matt cordon off the area with the velvet rope, meaning the end of the line, she reached for her second wind. She could do this. Melody placed another book in front of her and Natalie looked up into a smiling face.
“And who should I make this out to?”
“Natalie.” The young woman blushed. “My mom named me after you.”
“Come here, child.” Natalie stood and gathered her namesake into a hug while the camera's caught the moment for posterity.
As Natalie sat back down at the table, Matt sidled up behind her and slipped a piece of paper to her. “A gentleman at the back of the room, asked me if I'd give you this. He said you'd know what it means.”
Natalie unfolded the slip of paper, in her lap, like a cold war spy. In a bold handwriting scrawled across The Bradbury hotel stationery were the words: We Were Infinite.
58 This and That
The room spun out of focus as Natalie looked up at Matt. “Who gave you this?” The slip of paper shook in her hands.
Matt scanned the crowd. “There,” he said. “All the way at the back. Against the wall.”
Natalie’s gaze followed Matt’s pointing finger and then her heart stumbled at the sight of him.
Nico. Her Nico. Transported through time and space, now standing at the back of the room of a bookstore in San Francisco with a nervous smile on his beautiful face. Still beautiful. Still the same.
Natalie stifled the impulse to jump up from the table and run to him, like a slow-motion scene in a love story. She saw the two of them falling into one another’s arms, even though she knew her knees would never support her. They were jelly beneath the table.
Reining in her runaway thoughts, she nodded at him, enough to acknowledge him without drawing attention from the crowd and he nodded back, lips turned up in a shy smile. He would wait. Thankfully, the open book before here claimed her immediate attention. She had a moment to catch her breath, while her thoughts continued to race down the track unhindered.
What is he doing here? After all this time? What do you say to a ghost? Calm down, Natalie. You have no idea what brought him here. Perhaps he was just in the area and thought he’d stop in. He could be married for all you know. Dear God, please don’t let him be married.
“And who do I make this out to?” Natalie looked up at the elderly woman in front of her.
“Carol. Make it out to Carol.” The woman beamed. “May I have a picture?”
“Of course.”
Natalie leaned into the shot as Carol bent down next to her. Then she signed the next book and the next. Smiling. Signing. Posing. Counting down the end of the line while trying to steal a glimpse of the shadow from her past. Afraid he might be nothing more than an apparition stepping off her page. Finally, the last book was signed, and Matt and Melody swooped in to whisk her away. Natalie looked back over her shoulder, motioning for Nico to follow the trio out the back way.
And there he was. Filling the room. Larger than life. Like she’d seen him so many times in her dreams. Although in her dreams he’d remained frozen in time. Now she realized t
hat a little salt and pepper hair only served to make him sexier.
Natalie held the note in her hand as she walked up to him. “Do I know you?” She hoped he didn’t hear the quiver in her voice.
“Yes.” Nico grinned down at her. “We’ve met many times.”
The words swept her back to a cozy piazza, two hands reaching for the same bottle of olive oil.
“I’m Nico.” He extended his hand.
“Hi, Nico.” Natalie placed her hand in his. “I’m, Natalie.” The warmth of his hand, the feel of his skin had her suspended in time.
“Natalie.” He rolled the name off his tongue. “Do you have time for a cup of coffee, Natalie?”
“I’d love a cup of coffee.”
“I’m staying next door at The Bradbury. Their coffee’s … passable.” He shrugged.
“Still a coffee snob, I see.” Natalie wrinkled her nose.
“Always a purist.”
Nico helped her on with her coat and the feel of his fingers brushing against the back of her neck sent a wave of excitement down her spine. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons, while a thousand questions ran circles in the background. It felt odd not to touch him, and she jammed her hands in her coat pockets to quell the impulse. They were intimate strangers.
As they stepped out into the cool San Francisco afternoon Natalie tightened the scarf around her neck. The short walk to The Bradbury was void of conversation as the pair kept their heads tucked down against the February breeze.
They settled on a round booth in a secluded corner of the restaurant and shrugged out of their coats. Each of them stealing glances, gathering information from a look or a sigh.
“Coffee?” Nico asked Natalie, as a bow-tied waiter appeared.
“Yes. Please.”
“Two coffees. Black. Grazie.”
Grazie. The word made her smile. The fact that he remembered she took her coffee black had her heart fluttering like a schoolgirl. She was glad when the cups were placed in front of them, giving her something to hold onto. Guarding her heart, she placed cold hands around the warm cup and leaned over to let the aromatic steam fill her nostrils.
Nico grinned. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“And apparently you now wear glasses.” Natalie could feel the pink rise in her cheeks.
“No. You’re beautiful, Natalie.” Nico looked away as if afraid he’d overstepped the line.
Where do you start a conversation left hanging in limbo ten years ago?
Natalie decided to wade in. “So, what brings you to San Francisco?”
“This and that.”
Natalie stared back at him.
“You.” Nico looked across the table into her eyes, brushing aside the thin veneer. “I came to see you.”
“All the way from Rome?”
Nico sat back against the leather seat. “No. Not exactly. I’ve taken a temporary teaching job at Berkley. And then I happened to see that you were speaking here today…”
Natalie was busy trying to fit the new pieces into the faded puzzle of her past. “It’s good to see you.”
“And you, too. I read your book.”
“And?” There was nothing more terrifying that hearing someone say they’ve read your book and then pausing.
“Beautifully done. I came out looking much better than I deserve.”
“I just told the truth.”
Nico nodded, dropping his gaze, and the two of them sat lost for a moment in the lull of conversation, busy trying to pick up an old thread and make a new stitch.
“I’m no good at small talk, Natalie,” Nico apologized.
“Neither am I.”
“Good. Let’s just talk.” Nico shifted in his seat, turning his shoulders toward her. “First, I have no right to ask you anything, but I have to know… I know you’re not married, but are you…involved with anyone?” He struggled with the last word.
“No. No.” She looked over at him, her own question lodged in her throat. “How about you?”
“No.” He shook his head slowly; there was no mistaking the relief that spread across his face.
Thank God.
Nico bit his lip and she knew he was biting down on his own joy, tempering himself in the moment. “Then let me start with this,” Nico continued. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For all of it. For Caterina. For not trying harder. I should have never let you slip away.” Nico didn’t touch her, but his smile caressed her skin.
“It did just slip away, didn’t it?” Natalie’s voice was almost a whisper. “Why?”
“Speaking for myself, I thought it would be easier. We would write letters, we would call, and then we’d get together. I don’t think I was truly aware just how much of a strain time and distance would put on the relationship. After a few months, I could almost feel you fading.”
Natalie looked down into the dark depths of her coffee, stirring up timeworn memories. “I remember the letters got farther and farther apart. I’m sorry I wasn’t better at writing. I wasn't fading from you. I was losing ground. Losing hope. Fading in general.”
“You were already dealing with so much…” Nico offered her an easy out.
“You were the only one I really wanted to talk to about all of it. But I started to convince myself that maybe it was all too much for you. I was too much. When several letters went unanswered and then no reply from my phone messages—”
“It was Caterina,” Nico blurted out.
“What?”
“I only recently found out that Caterina had been stealing, for lack of a better word, stealing your letters to me and removing my letters from the mailbox to you. She erased your messages. I thought you were giving me the brush off. Your letters had grown shorter and our conversations grew harder. It made sense to me at the time, that you just wanted out.”
“Jesus.” The gut punch had Natalie slumped against the leather banquette, as the ugly truth crawled out from under a ten year old stone.
“Then when my letters were returned saying ‘address unknown’ and I had no new phone number,” Nico continued breathlessly, “I…I assumed you were done, for whatever reasons. I had nowhere to turn.”
“I’d moved to Carmel.” Natalie was shaking her head in disbelief, the words falling from her lips one at a time. “I sent you my new address and never heard from you again.” She scrambled to make sense of the riddle. The blurred edges of her past coming into sharp focus. She remembered the last phone message she’d left, begging him to call her, and at the same time, promising this would be her last attempt at communication.
Everything she thought she knew was wrong. Thousands of miles apart they’d each sat with half-truths and outright lies in their lap, trying to make sense of a senseless situation. Fuzzy images of Caterina dressed like a cat-burglar, pilfering letters and messages danced in and out of the spotlight in Natalie’s mind. More than just stealing words on a piece of paper, Caterina has stolen Natalie and Nico’s future.
“There is no excuse for Caterina’s actions.” Nico hung his head. “But I hadn’t considered just how much she was suffering from her mother’s death. She was still a girl. Lost and frightened. Desperate. I should have seen that she was in trouble.”
Natalie let the truth pull up a seat at the table. Settle between them. Nico hadn’t just walked away from her without a word. He’d been wrenched away from her. Their love had been hijacked. Like her, he’d been living with the ‘why?’ for all these years.
Nico reached across the table, across the decade between them with an open palm. “I would have never walked away from you.”
She wanted to hold him; tell him everything was going to be alright, instead she placed her hand in his and the world slipped back onto its axis. “I would have never walked away from you.”
59 Fresh Flames
Six hours later, coffee had turned into dinner, which turned into drinks… both afraid to let go of the moment. Break the spell.
As
conversation found its rhythm the pair scooted closer to the center of the booth. Fingers intertwined and knees re-introduced themselves as they filled in the empty years between them.
Natalie heard that Nico had had a fairly serious relationship for a couple of years.
“She was a lovely woman, but she had a fatal flaw,” he told her. “She wasn’t you. Finally, I grew tired of trying to fit the square peg into a round hole, as you American’s say.”
While Nico talked Natalie swallowed the image of his hands caressing another woman. Though she’d had relationships of her own, the thought of him making love to someone else left her feeling dizzy.
“I know the feeling,” Natalie managed to squeak the words past dry lips.
Now they sat in a comfortable silence, the candle on their table long since burnt out. The staff eyeing them curiously. Patrons had come and gone. Shifts had changed. But Nico and Natalie remained locked together in a world no bigger than a booth.
Nico looked over at her with a sheepish smile. “I didn’t just happen to see that you were speaking here today.”
“No?”
“No. Once Caterina confessed to me, all I could think about was finding my way back to you. Then this opportunity to teach at Berkeley landed in my lap. Even if I tried to kid myself and everyone else about why I was willing to take this job, the truth is… I came looking for you. I’ve been following your book tour, looking for an opportunity. I made plans. Booked a hotel room nearby. I wasn’t going to leave without at least trying to see you. It was like the universe was giving me a second chance and when the universe talks, you listen.”
The universe had indeed intervened, moving their planets into the same orbit once again. They would be foolish to ignore it.
“I love the universe.” Natalie’s answer was spun on a silken thread.
“I love you.” He was so close she could feel his breath on her skin. “I still love you,” he was saying. “You’re a hard woman to get over, Natalie Hampton. And I realized I’ve been waiting for you all these years.”