Lincoln Center was filled to capacity, and thousands lined the streets hoping for a glimpse of the world’s greatest ballerina, who had come back from the dead. In the front row center seats were three feisty women, one stout proud old woman and two men who had the look of fierce lions, one young, one old.
Resplendent in his tuxedo, Johnathan held his breath as the curtain opened. The stage looked like something out of a fairy tale. Hell, his whole life lately was something out of a fairy tale. It was filled with every luxury imaginable—expensive clothes, fines houses, new cars.
The thing he wanted most, though, was the love and respect of his son. He had done everything possible—given up the bottle, which turned out to be one of hardest battles he’d ever waged. He hadn’t thought of himself as an alcoholic until he’d begun to fight that difficult battle. He’d mostly given up cussing, though he still liked to mix it up with Hunter’s guards just to keep in practice.
When Hunter had shaved off his beard, Johnathan had taken to shaving daily, but he refused to cut off his ponytail. Judging from the predatory looks some of the women in the section on his right were giving him, he figured he’d made the right decision. Even Martha looked at him with a light in her eyes.
Of course the thing they didn’t know was that Janice was enshrined in his heart and there would never be room for another woman.
Sometimes his life seemed like a dream to him, and he had to pinch himself to know it was all real.
The orchestra began playing, and Hunter drew in a sharp breath. Johnathan turned to look at his son. He was rigid with tension, his eyes riveted to the stage.
“She’ll be all right,” Johnathan whispered.
Helen, one of the three women who called themselves Forever Friends, said, “She’ll be magnificent, and his son said, “Damned right.”
Johnathan had to fight against tears when Hunter smiled at him. If it wasn’t love and respect, it was close. In time, the rest would come.
“There she is,” Johnathan whispered.
Kathleen Shaw La Farge, the program said, dancing excerpts from Giselle.
Johnathan didn’t know squat about ballet, but he knew that Kathleen was the best and that she’d never danced as anything except Shaw, even when she was married to Earl Lennox.
La Farge. A fictitious name that Hunter had made worthy. A name that Kathleen would make famous on the stage.
A hush fell over the audience. Kathleen stood in the spotlight with her chin pointed upward.
Lord, could she do it? Johnathan gripped the edges of his seat. When she began to dance, he knew that he was watching magic.
She finished to thunderous applause. The audience rose to its feet, chanting her name.
“Kathleen... Kathleen... Kathleen...”
He turned to see how Hunter was taking the pressure, but his son was already headed backstage.
“That’s my daughter-in-law, you know,” he said to the woman sitting behind him.
“Really?” The woman beamed. “We saw her in Paris two years ago. She’s even better now than she was then.”
Not blind, but better. He’d have to remember to tell Kathleen.
“By the way, I’m Mrs. Gertrude Walton.”
Suddenly he knew that there was one final act of trust he could do to make them a family; he would officially take his son’s name.
“I’m Johnathan La Farge,” he said. “And damned proud of it.”
o0o
Kathleen took her final bow. Applause and shouts of “Brava!” washed over her. This was the moment she’d waited for, the dream she’d worked for.
When she left the stage, the audience was still calling her name. Jake would be waiting for her in the wings to take her back to the dressing room.
“Magnificent, Kathleen.” It was Helen Sullivan, reaching for her hand.
“Flawless,” Maxie Corban said, holding onto her other hand.
“Superb,” B. J. said, and Kat knew she’d be joining hands with her sister Maxie and Helen, making the circle of Forever Friends complete.
The backstage crew surrounded her, offering their congratulations. So many voices. So many people she couldn’t see.
And yet she felt so secure she didn’t even reach for Jake’s harness.
Suddenly she felt his presence. Her husband. Hunter La Farge. The man she could pick out in a crowd of millions. The man who made all other dreams pale by comparison.
“Hunter...”
His footsteps sounded and her friends parted to make way. Hunter wrapped his arms around her, and his lips brushed hers. “You are magic, Kat. Watching you, I almost forgot that you’re my wife.”
“I don’t ever intend to let you forget that.”
“Go on, Kat,” B. J. said. “Celebrate with your husband. We’ll be waiting for you at the hotel.”
Kat blew a kiss in the direction of her friends, and headed off with Hunter. When they reached her dressing room, she stationed Jake outside the door.
“Don’t let a soul in, Jake,” she said. “Guard it with your life.”
“Sounds ominous, Mrs. La Farge.” Hunter slid her elaborately beaded costume off her shoulders. “Should I be worried?”
“Indeed, you should.” She laced her fingers through his hair and pulled him down to her.
Soon the waves of passion that swept over her would become a full-fledged hurricane. Soon she would be beyond speech.
“This is just the beginning,” she said. “London. Rome. Paris. Jefferson Parish.”
“Jefferson Parish?”
Her body screamed in protest as Hunter left off his erotic attentions.
“There’s a little back room at the cottage that will make a perfect nursery,” she whispered.
“You want children?”
Kathleen trembled inside. They’d never discussed children. What if Hunter didn’t want them? What if the scars of his own childhood were too deep? Most horrible of all, what if he were afraid for her to be a mother because she was blind?
“Yes,” she said. “When the time is right.”
A great stillness descended on him, and she waited, entrusting her last dream to him. With children, her life would be perfect; but even if he said no, her world would be complete. She had ballet and she had Hunter.
“Kat...” He caught her hands and pressed her palms against his mouth. His lips were warm, and on them she felt his tears. “It will do me great honor to be the father of your children. I will make La Farge a name to bear with pride.”
“My love... my dearest love... La Farge is already a name to bear with pride.”
She pulled him down to her, and as their bodies merged, so did their hearts and souls. As always, Hunter knew what she was thinking. Before they started that long journey that would take away reason, he lifted himself on his elbows and brushed his lips against the golden locket that nestled between her breasts.
“We are one, Kat. Now and forever.”
-o0o-
Coming August, 2013, (literary fiction, MIRA, will be available in trade paperback, E-book and audio) - The Sweetest Hallelujah by Elaine Hussey (pen name for Peggy Webb). In 1955, two women cross color lines to save a child.
o0o
Excerpt , romantic comedy, spring, 2013
Bringing Up Baxter (Forever Friends, Book 3 of 4)
Peggy Webb