Coming back from California, Susan felt death was preferable to the constant pain in her heart. She avoided dealing with her feelings, filling her time with any activity that didn’t require serious thought. She tried to move her family back to Winter Park, but reluctantly agreed to a compromise. She was a nomad, traveling back and forth between the two houses. Neither one felt like home, and both held too many memories of Maggie. No place was safe.
Her life returned to a fixed schedule—leaving for work and returning home at the same time every day. She forced herself into an orderly life.
Three weeks later, the phone rang at three in the morning. Groggy, Susan reached for the phone fearing something terrible had happened to her sister and her family. It was Maggie calling from Poland. A rowdy party in the background made conversation difficult.
“Guess what? We sold out in fucking Poland.”
“Congratulations.” Susan was slowly waking up and wondering why Maggie was calling.
“Next week, I have the whole week. I was on the Internet and found a wonderful villa to rent on Lake Como in northern Italy. We could have a wonderful week there. I can have the ticket at the airport today.”
“No, Maggie.”
“Why the hell not?”
Susan kept her voice calm. “My boss, my family, and my job need me,” she said. “You don’t.”
“Ow, that hurts.”
For one brief instant Susan thought about apologizing, but she had yet to hear an apology from Maggie.
“Listen, Susan, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“It’s three in the morning. I’m really tired and I need to get some sleep.” Susan knew that if she talked much longer she would be pulled back into Maggie’s life.
“I’m sorry. I forgot about the time change. I am really serious about you coming over. I…I miss you. Hey, quiet down. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
“I’ve got to go,” Susan said and quickly hung up.
*
“Fuck her,” Maggie muttered as she slammed the phone down. “Who the hell is she? Hanging up on me.”
“Hey, boss, what’s up? Why aren’t you partying with us?” Maggie’s guitar tech Blair downed another shot of Polish vodka. “This stuff is good. I wonder if we can take a case back.”
“Sure. Arrange it.” Maggie walked off, looking for a quiet place. Her life was coming unglued. Needing a quiet place, she returned to her room, trying to lock out the loneliness and the fear growing inside her.
*
Hanging up on Maggie didn’t make her go away. Three of her current releases received frequent air play. Susan started listening to classical music. At the office, Maggie was the frequent topic of conversation. Susan hid in her office. Paul called at least once a week. While she enjoyed talking to him, he served as a reminder of Maggie.
By the time Susan was able to get through a day, Maggie again called. Susan was at a meeting and her mother answered. When she got home, her mother nagged her to call Maggie back. Susan postponed calling, hoping the urge, and the need, would go away. It didn’t. Reluctantly, she dialed.
*
Maggie poured herself a drink. God, she wanted Susan. Why didn’t she call? Looking around the room, she knew there were a half dozen women in this room she could have sex with. Willing, easy women. No questions asked. Why, then, did she still want Susan?
“Did you say something? Want something, M.J.?” An attractive, short redhead slipped onto her lap, leaving no doubt what she was offering. Maggie wasn’t interested. She barely heard the phone ringing over the noise. Blair handed her the phone.
Maggie tried to get rid of the woman on her lap. “Susan, hey, wait a minute.” Moving the phone aside, she said, “Cut it out. Leave me alone, damn it.” By the time she returned to the phone, Susan had hung up. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
Stumbling over to the bar, she poured another drink, and then another. She was well into getting drunk when the redhead began to nibble on her neck. Why not? she thought. Pulling the woman close, Maggie began kissing and caressing her.
“Rhonda, my name is Rhonda.”
“What?” Maggie muttered.
“My name is Rhonda. You called me Susan.”
Angry, Maggie stood, dropping the redhead on the floor. “Get out. All of you, get out!”
“What’s the matter, boss?” Alarmed by the shouting, Blair rushed up.
“Get everyone out of here. Now.” Maggie slammed the door, leaving the group stunned.
The next day began with a frustrated Maggie finishing off the bottle of bourbon and going back to bed. At two, the phone ringing roused her enough to reach for it. “Susan?”
“Afraid not. Hi, honey. Sorry. Has Susan called? Are you okay? You sound funny.”
“Hi, Derek. I’m okay. Long night. I was just getting up. We leave for New York tonight. I’m getting tired of traveling. How are you? How’s Paul? The kids?”
“That’s part of the reason I’m calling. We thought we’d meet you in New York and spend some time together. How does that sound?”
Maggie tried to focus, but was losing the battle. “What? I’m sorry.”
“Maggie, are you okay?”
“I told you I’m tired. I screwed up.” She brushed away a tear before continuing, “And Susan hung up on me yesterday. This has been one shitty week.”
“I’m sorry. Listen, we’ll be at the airport when you arrive in New York. What can I do?”
“I don’t know. Why won’t she talk to me?” Realizing how tentative her sanity was, she changed the topic long enough to talk to the kids. Later, her head pounding, she packed and headed for the airport.
*
As Derek, Paul, and the kids greeted Maggie, cameras and microphones recorded every moment. “Who the hell called the press?” Maggie yelled as she crawled into the car.
“Hey, Maggie, calm down,” Paul said. “You’re scaring the kids.”
“Sorry, I’m tired. I told Karl no press. When I find out who did this, I’m going to fire him or her.”
“Maybe your tour sponsors are doing this.”
“I don’t fucking care who.”
Derek spoke through clenched teeth. “Your language, please.”
Maggie put her head on the back of the seat and went to sleep. She woke up when they arrived at the hotel. “I’m tired. Come on.” She took her kids’ hands and walked into the hotel lobby, where she was greeted by the day supervisor who personally escorted her to the penthouse elevator.
“Have a good day, Ms. Carson.”
When they arrived in the suite, Maggie excused herself long enough to shower and change clothes. When she returned to the living area, she found dinner had arrived. She played with the kids for a few minutes and then went to bed.
The next morning Maggie was cheerful and rested. Tension was thick, but she was determined to ignore it.
“Do you want to talk about Susan?” Derek asked.
“Nope!” Smiling, she changed the topic. “What have you two been up to?”
“Maggie,” Derek began hesitantly, “I’ve been approached to speak at National Coming Out Day in Los Angeles. I said no, but I may want to at some time. I’m not the only gay man in the NFL, but we’re all too afraid. Maybe I can help to open the door.”
“What about your career?” Maggie’s own fears drove her questions more than her concern about Derek’s future.
“You know we talked about someday coming out. There is never a perfect time. It’s more a matter of our choosing the right time before we’re forced to deal with someone else outing us.”
The years of hiding were a part of her. She wasn’t sure she would know how to not be afraid. Then she remembered the last argument in California with Susan. She had said she didn’t care. Which was it? “Have you heard from Susan?”
“We’ve been talking to Susan at least once a week. We also spent Labor Day weekend with her and her family. She’s still in love with you.”
“You what? I can’t believe this. I thought you were on my side.”
“This is not about sides,” Paul said. “This is about friendship. She’s a friend. Our friend and your friend.”
“Friend? She’s not my friend. I’ve made numerous attempts to talk to her, at least six or seven times, and in the last six months she’s only called once. Once. I’ve repeatedly tried to get her to join me for a short vacation—anywhere in the world. She keeps saying no. She’s too busy. The first chance I get away from my tour, I invite her to join us. She leaves without even saying good-bye. What do you want me to do? Bow down and kiss her feet?” She paced around the room. “In the last five years, I have been sexually involved with one woman. One! And I was saving myself for this. Fuck that. What else could I have done? I tried to do everything Susan asked. What more could I do?”
“How many times did you tell her you love her?” Derek asked. “How many times did you ask her what she wanted to do? How many times did you call her in the middle of the day and just say you were thinking about her? You and I are so used to having things our way. Paul and Susan are not people you buy.”
“How many times did she call me? How many times did she include me in her plans? How many times did I walk out on her? I tried, Derek. But Susan always wanted more.” Feeling her emotions drowning her, she stopped. “Enough. I’m going to bed.” She stopped, took a deep breath, and then said, “Paul, I’m sorry. You’ve been a good friend. I don’t know what I’d do without the two of you. You are my only friends.”
“Believe it or not, Susan is too. She still loves you,” Paul said.
“Thanks for the advice,” she answered angrily and fled to her bedroom. She leaned against the closed door and cried. “God, Susan, I need you.”