Terry returned to Lane’s room to see him staring at the ceiling. No tears flowed, but his face showed the look of a person in deep thought. As he approached the bed, Lane whispered, “The doctor just left. He said I was doing much better than he expected. Tell me, please, what did they expect?”
The question startled Terry. He stopped walking to his partner and looked down at his hands. Terry wondered how much he should tell Lane. The doctors said he had very little chance of regaining consciousness. If he did, they said his brain was so severely damaged that he’d probably be a vegetable. They told Terry to be prepared for the worst and if he or Lane believed, last rights should be administered.
“They said you would either die from the trauma or be a vegetable for the rest of your life.”
“Well, I guess they were wrong, because I’m certainly not dead. But a person with no memory might as well be a vegetable,” answered Lane as he continued to stare at the ceiling.
“No, you’re not a vegetable. Look at you! You’re alive and talking. Yes, you have some memory loss, but we can work on that. It will come back Lane. Please…” responded Terry as he approached the bed and pulled Lane’s hand to his face. “We’ll get through this, I promise you!”
Lane slowly turned to face the man holding his hand and said, “You told me we were more than friends. We met at one of my conferences. You said I was remarkable in what I did.” He stopped talking, turned his head and just stared at the heart monitor.
“Yes, we met at a conference. Yes, you were remarkable. And you will be again. You have to believe me Lane. We’ll get through this.”
“How will I be remarkable again, when I don’t even know who I am?” shouted Lane as he pulled his hand from Terry. “You have no idea so how can you say that?”
At that moment, the door opened as Hallie walked in. Hearing Lane’s outburst brought a smile to her face. “I’m glad to see you are feeling better,” she said as she made her way to his side through the maze of wires and tubes. The look on both Terry’s and Lane’s faces showed total disbelief.
“Mom, how can you be smiling right now while Lane is so upset?”
“Lane, look at me,” said Hallie as she put her hand on his arm. “You’ve been through a lot, I admit. And yes, you have memory loss, but your brain is still working. You can’t imagine how happy that makes Terry and me.”
Lane started to say something but Hallie cut him off. “You are a miracle Lane. The fact that you are awake and talking is a miracle. I just spoke with the same doctor who examined you. He said to give it a few days and see what happens.”
“I have an idea,” said Terry smiling at the man he loved. “I’m going home to get your laptop and some of your research papers. Reading them might trigger something up there,” he said pointing to Lanes head. “At least you’ll have something to do besides listening to mom and me telling you that you’ll get better.”
Terry left before getting a response from Lane. On his way out the door, he heard Hallie say, “Well I guess you’re stuck with me for a while.” Then he heard his mother’s famous laugh. She had a signature laugh that everyone recognized as Hallie’s.
*****
Terry walked down the corridor from where Lane was speaking. His mind is amazing. I can’t wait until dinner. Back in his room, Terry checked his voice mail messages, did a quick scan of his personal and business email accounts, then changed into his bathing suit and walked to the indoor pool. As he passed the lobby, he heard a commotion so he stopped to see what was happening.
In the middle of the lobby stood the woman who allowed Terry to sneak into Lane’s conference. She had her hands raised to stop everyone from asking questions at the same time. “The press conference is scheduled for tomorrow at ten sharp. No, you cannot go into any of Dr. Duwalt’s conferences. Those are reserved for research scientists.”
“We’re researchers too, so why are you forbidding us from attending Dr. Duwalt’s conferences?” said a reporter, with his recorder raised to capture the response. The other reporters laughed at his humorous attempt to get passed the gatekeeper.
“That’s a good one. I’ll pass it along to Dr. Duwalt. Now please respect the hotel’s rules against congregating in the lobby. Come back tomorrow.” With that, she turned and walked away from the shouting reporters, in Terry’s direction.
As she walked toward Terry he asked, “Wow, does that happen everywhere Lane, I mean Dr. Duwalt holds conferences?”
At first, she didn’t recognize the man in his bathing suit. Terry stood five foot eleven inches tall. He had always treated his body as a temple, thus he is rock solid with an eight-pack stomach. Most people get lost is his perfect body, but to him it's something that he has always maintained.
His brown eyes match his hair, which usually looks as if he needs a trim. No matter how much he tried to keep his hair in style that was not going to happen. Rather than getting upset, he decided to let it do whatever it wanted to do. The messy look made him even more appealing to both men and women.
She gave him the admiring look he was so accustomed to receiving, then smiling she said, “Looks like you are enjoying the day. I wish I could go for a swim right about now.” As they walked away from the reporters, she said, “Dr. Duwalt’s research is front page news. I told you earlier that he is constantly bombarded with requests to talk, and to share his research. The man is brilliant and they,” she said pointing to the throng of hungry reporters, “won’t leave him alone.”
“They follow him around?” asked Terry.
“You should only know,” she replied. “I could write a book filled with the tricks they’ve used to try to get to him. They never leave him alone. I have to get back to the conference. It’s nice chatting with you, Mr.?”
“Oh, I’m Terry Wattenberg. Lane, ah Dr. Duwalt and I ran into each other yesterday and again this morning.”
“Oh, you’re the one? Lane told me how embarrassed he was that he actually ran into you. I can just see it happening, too.” She said laughing. “He gets into his head and forgets to come out. Sometimes we have to remind him to eat.”
She stopped as she turned to walk away. “He told me you asked him out for dinner. Please tell me you are not a reporter trying to get a scoop. That would be too much.”
Terry put his hand on his chest and made the symbol of crossing his heart. “No, I’m not a reporter. I just wanted to know more about the guy who just about bowled me over yesterday, that’s all. Well, maybe I do have an ulterior motive,” he replied.
“Really and what might that be Mr. Wattenberg?” she asked with both hands on her hips.
Now feeling very self-conscious, he said, “I like him and want to get to know him. Please tell me if I’m barking up the wrong tree and I’ll leave him alone.”
“You’d be barking up the right tree Mr. Wattenberg,” she said as she started to walk away. Then turning around she said, “You hurt him and you’ll regret you ever met me. Understand?” She didn’t wait for a reply.
I certainly do.
Terry enjoyed the pool and spa for a few hours. He thought about Lane, and the mystery lady who appeared to be more than just his protector. He repeatedly played the memories of Lane on stage and the press trying to crash his conference in his mind. This man is someone special, yet seems so innocent at the same time. How do I get to know him without scaring him away?
Rather than venture out of the hotel and chance a confrontation with the press, Terry consulted the hotel’s concierge for ideas. He mentioned the press, Lane’s fear of public situations due to his position, and asked for some help with dinner plans. He also downplayed room service since he didn’t want to appear too forward on their first date.
What resulted was a balance of elegance and simplicity. Terry sat in a plush chair in the lobby watching the activity of business people and vacationers as they made their way to dinners, scheduled events, and other activities they had panned. He smiled inwardly knowing he was one of them, just passing through on his way to the next meeting or business lunch. I wonder what they are thinking of me as I sit here watching them?
Right on time, Lane exited the elevator and scanned the lobby. His smile excited Terry when their eyes met. He is either happy to see me or happy that the press has gone. Either way, I like it! Lane made his way to where Terry was sitting, keeping an eye open for land mines and other hazards. One mishap on this trip was more than enough.
“Right on time,” said Terry as he stood with his hand out.
Lane shook Terry’s hand and smiled. “I try to be punctual, but sometimes things get in the way, as you are fully aware.” They held hands a bit longer than would happen in a friendly shake, but neither seemed to want to break free. “So where are we going for dinner?”
“I thought we’d go to a nice restaurant nearby, but after I witnessed the chaos of the press, this morning, I had second thoughts. That woman bodyguard of yours made it clear, to me, that your public loves you and might want a piece of your body if we went out there tonight,” he said waving to the street in front of the hotel.
“She can be quite protective. Sherry and I go back a bit.” Lane’s smile deepened as he talked about Sherry. Then he giggled and said, “She had quite the crush on me when we first met. I had to break her heart and let her know I played on a different team.”
“You just came out and told her, what did she do?”
“At first she thought I was just using the line to push her away, but she soon realized that I was telling the truth. Since then she’s been like my sister, protector and the best-damned personal assistant anyone can hope for. I’m not sure I can live without her.”
“She seemed more like a bulldog, to me,” said Terry as he stood next to Lane. That brought laughter from both men.
“So if we are not going out there for dinner, what did you have in mind?” asked Lane. “I could eat a cow tonight. Sherry tried to get me to eat lunch but I didn’t have time. The last time I ate was at breakfast with you.”
Just then, a member of the hotel’s staff approached the two men. “Mr. Wattenberg, Dr. Duwalt, if you will follow me, please.” Lane’s eyebrows rose as he looked from the young man back to Terry.
Terry said nothing as he and Lane followed the staff assistant. They were escorted to the elevator, up to the roof deck and out to a private sitting area. Luckily, the private roof deck was available for that evening, a remarkable coincidence since reservations for the deck usually had a waiting list.
When they exited the elevator, Lane scanned the city around the hotel. The night was cool though not enough to require jackets. The hotel had thought of everything. A table set for two sat near the center of a garden. Trees and shrubs surrounded the area. Overhead heaters flanked the deck providing warmth and comfort.
“This is amazing!” whispered Lane as he took in the pleasant atmosphere, cityscape, and crisp cloudless evening. “Who are you Mr. Wattenberg?”
A waiter approached, removed the bottle of champagne from the ice and presented two chilled glasses on a silver tray. Once poured, the waiter offered a glass to Lane, then to Terry. He discretely moved to a location that would allow him to observe the couple’s needs, yet be unobtrusive.
“Here’s to friendship. One that I hope grows into something special,” said Terry as he touched his glass to Lane’s.
Lane’s face became a deep shade of red as he realized what Terry had said. Quickly regaining his composure, he replied, “To friendship.”