––––––––
Adam Wright picked up his security escort at the stairwell. He said to the two Texas Rangers, "Listen, I need to go out and talk to the fans."
"Sir, that's not a good idea. She's out there. We won't let you do it."
"Penelope doesn't scare me. She's harmless."
"No. We think otherwise. We can't do anything legally to keep her away...until she tries to...harm you. We have to make sure she has no access."
Adam showed the Rangers the photograph of his angel. "Melody Marie Utley. I have to find her. She's a fan. They must know her. I need to talk to them."
"No, you can't. We won't allow it. Remember what happened to George Harrison. And John Lennon."
He threw his hands up. "Fine. Take this photo, make copies, and pass them out. I want her found. And return the original to me ASAP."
"Yes, sir," The rangers said in unison.
* * * *
Adam strapped a seatbelt on in the back of the marked police SUV. He circled his head, trying to relieve some of the pain he had been drowning in, the magnitude of little Adam's health. He adored his son, and having to face the unspeakable possibility if the surgery didn't go well was something he just wouldn't deal with. Couldn't.
The siren wailed as flashing blue lights reflected into the vehicle. Adam closed his eyes and leaned his head against the side of the car. Angel...he allowed his mind to conjure up the last time he'd seen her. Six years ago. In Manhattan. Summer. She'd been coming around late at night, waiting for him after his recording sessions. He remembered...
It had been well past two a.m. when he'd left the studio through the alley door. Off toward the Dumpster, there she was. He strolled over to her. "Nice night, huh?"
His angel spun around, slightly stumbling. She looked up at him and smiled. Pointing, she blurted out, "Have you seen Venus tonight? Right there, to the left of the Empire State Building."
He casually draped his arm around her shoulders, tilting his head close to hers. She pointed to the bright glow.
He said, "I didn't know it was visible tonight. Amazing, that."
Billows of puffy white smoke floated across the skyline, forming a stage for the celestial show. He enjoyed one last drag from an enhanced cigarette and said, "Look, look! There's a falling star!"
"Oh, I see it!" she enthused, jumping up and down.
He dropped the cigarette and extinguished it with his boot. "That's going to happen to me some night."
"What're you talking about?"
"Nobody stays on top forever."
She quietly said, "You'll always be my superstar."
He turned and stroked her soft hair. He loved how the golden highlights twinkled like Venus, even in the dim security lights. He ran his fingers through her hair, from the center part down to her elbow. He felt her tremble.
Adam smiled as he studied her slowly and longingly. "You are beautiful tonight."
She looked into his eyes, sparkling with the glow of something illegal. "You're not so bad yourself."
He grinned.
"You know you shouldn't mix that stuff into your tobacco. It's not good for you."
"Yes, I need to get off the tobacco, I'll work on it." He laughed.
She smiled. "Do you have any more?"
He shook his head.
As she dropped her gaze down to his off-white jeans, she noticed a fine-toothed comb escaping from his front pocket. She tucked it back in.
He drew a quick breath and searched her gray-blue eyes. "Careful, angel. You're not old enough to find out what's in my pocket."
"Sure I am." She blushed and looked away.
An ambulance's red flashing lights danced down the alley as it stopped on the cross street. The driver honked the horn, trying to clear the traffic.
"Well, are you going to ask me or not?" He grinned.
"Do you want me to?" she teased.
"Say it."
"Can I have a kiss?"
Adam took her delicate hand in his. "Careful, try not to get any blood on you from my thumb. Long session tonight."
They moved into a darkened corner, near the concrete office building.
"Why don't you use a pick?"
"Because." He leaned down, softly pressed his lips to hers and closed his eyes. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he began with sweet little puckers, inhaling her perfume and tasting strawberry. She sighed and closed her eyes, letting her fingers roam inside his shirt, across his neck and shoulders.
Adam could still taste her strawberry lip gloss as he remembered her lips parting when his mouth opened fuller and his demanding tongue mounted hers on top, on each side and underneath, stroking deeply toward the back of her mouth.
For the first time, Adam moved her hand onto his left pocket. Melody traced it with her fingers. His hands snuck underneath her white top. His callused fingers tenderly tweaked and teased the engorged buds on top of pert little breasts.
The wind picked up, carrying the distant smoke nearer to them. Melody gasped as he slid...just his finger tips, under the front waistband of her jeans.
Adam closed his mouth for one last, soft kiss. He stood up straight, grinning, panting. "You'd better go home. Now. Really."
"But...but I love you"
He kissed her forehead. "No, angel, please don't. Don't waste your love on me. Find yourself a nice boy who can give you what you deserve..."
"No. You don't understand. I love you, Adam. I think you feel something for me, too. Or is all this a big game to you? Am I just another starry eyed girl to you?"
Gently he explained, "Angel, I'm a lot older than you. Your fun is just beginning. It's time for me to settle down now. You read the entertainment magazines. You know I'm getting married."
"To the beautiful doctor," she choked out.
"That's right." He swallowed hard.
"I can't compete with her devastating beauty, brains, good deeds and sexual prowess. I was so stupid pretending I had any chance with you..."
"Shh...don't talk that way. Never put yourself down like that, angel." He wiped away her chain of tears and pulled her against his chest.
"Fate has a very cruel knife. If only you were a little older and I'd met you sooner..." His fingers were caught in a tangle of her hair. "I wish things would have worked out differently. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have let things go on this long, get this far. But on that first night, when you so sweetly asked me for a kiss, I had no idea what kissing you would do to me. God, I've kissed hundreds of fans. But they...I should've stayed away. I'm so sorry for hurting you, angel."
"But I want you to make love to me. And I want you to teach me how to please you. You keep taking me closer and closer, then you maddeningly stop."
"No, angel. You don't understand. You are too precious. I won't use you for a moment of pleasure. I won't be that selfish. We both know full well it's not going to last. You need to wait. Wait for someone wonderful. Find a nice scholarly boy who adores you."
Melody pleaded, "You aren't listening to me!"
He attempted to wipe her tears.
Melody shoved him away and stepped back. "I don't want a boy. And I don't want any another man. It's not just the kissing. It's the talking and just being together and everything."
Adam squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them as he shook his head. "No, angel, stop. Stop it. I'm already taken. You're underage. We can't be together." He picked up her purse and clumsily slung the strap over her shoulder.
Her hands intertwined into a tight fist at her chest. Trembling himself, he wrapped his arm around her as they edged down the alley and emerged on the street. He tried to steer her down the ramp to the underground parking garage. She refused to follow him that night.
"Come on, let me take you home."
Melody kept walking. She yanked a small blue spiral bound notebook from her purse and pitched it over her shoulder, without looking back. The white pages fanned and fluttered like a bird on its final descent.
Adam watched her cross the street at the corner. Melody disappeared down the subway stairs.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Adam mouthed, "I love you, too." He picked up her notebook and closed the cover. Tears streaked his face as he staggered through the vacant concrete catacombs to his car.
Sitting on the hood, it took Adam an hour to wrestle with his conscience and make up his mind. While driving his shiny black Corvette convertible into Park Slope, he rehearsed his speech. Cursing the detour, he eventually parallel parked three blocks north. Combing his hair as he walked tall, Adam felt his life was about to change forever.
He heard water rushing into the storm sewers. It hadn't rained. He watched the firefighters re-racking the hoses and carrying big fans from...her building. Stunned at the charred brownstone shell with windows missing, he refused to believe his eyes. He grabbed a cop. "Please tell me she didn't die?"
"I'm sorry, mister. There was one fatality. Female."
"No! No!"
The cop asked, "Are you kin?"
"My...girlfriend...lives there."
The police officer removed a notebook from his shirt pocket and flipped through. "What's her name?"
"I...I don't know."
"You don't know your girlfriend's name? What the hell are you on? Jeeze-us Christmas! Get out of here, asshole. Waste of my time." The cop stomped off.
* * * *
Strolling back toward their hotel, Susan asked, "So what do you want to do about lunch?"
"Eat."
She smiled. "I mean, since we're all dressed up, we should go some place nice." He was so sweet to dress up for such an important occasion. He obviously took their being tested as donors very seriously. What a wonderful man. Susan smiled.
Johnny said, "I know just the place. Passed it on the way over to the hospital."
The noon traffic seemed just as bad as the morning rush. Perhaps they had a continuous flow of vehicles in Austin. Susan said, "This is my first time to Texas. How about you?"
"I attended a class on explosives in Houston two years back. The night life is...um...memorable."
Susan felt another odd little jealous pang. "I'm sorry I asked."
He stopped walking.
She said, "Well, where's the restaurant? Is it in this office building?"
Johnny pulled the glass door open and beckoned Susan to enter the street level McDonald's. She stood on tippy toes and kissed his cheek. "You want me to spill my Coke on you again?"
"Nah, can't recreate history. Besides, this is my only suit."
"How do you get by with just one suit?"
"Well, I wear my dress uniform to awards ceremonies and funerals. So I just need a suit for weddings." He would have married her on the spot.
"And this is the extent of your dressing up?"
"Hey, I've got nice clothes, just not suits."
* * * *
After lunch, Johnny and Susan returned to their hotel room. The beds were unmade. No fresh towels. Susan said, "I'm gonna change real quick, then I guess we should leave until the maid gets here."
Johnny kicked his good black shoes off and rubbed the balls of his feet. He groaned. "Where do you wanna go and can we take a taxi?"
Susan called out from the bathroom, "Back to the hospital, and sure." She changed into jeans and a blue silk sweater, emerging with her sneakers and white socks still in her hand. "You can have the bath—" She stopped.
Johnny had removed all of his clothes except for a very brief pair of teal briefs. She wondered if he was posing for her. "Sorry...I assumed we'd take turns in the bathroom."
He did an Elvis grin out the side of his mouth. "As far as I'm concerned, we're past that. Any objections?"
Susan tried hard to think of one, anything, but nope. Nothing.
He pulled on a pair of jeans. She couldn't help but stare at his perfectly formed deltoids. What a back this guy had. "Do you work out at a gym or something?" Susan immediately knew that sounded so stupid.
"Something."
"Oh." Brandon hadn't looked anything like Johnny, not that he was a slouch, it was, well, Brandon's muscles weren't defined. And he had love handles. Now she knew this was what a buff man looked like, up close and personal.
She watched Johnny pull a white cotton undershirt over his auburn hair.
"Hand me my shirt, will ya?"
"Hmm? Oh...here." Susan shook out a charcoal gray corduroy shirt from the bed. She handed it to him.
He slipped his arms in and winked at her.
She felt the heat.
"So, do you wanna help with the buttons? I have this sore thumb. Jammed it in the door of the ladder truck last tour."
Susan started with the middle button and worked her way down slowly. She could feel his body hair under the white cotton. Sliding her attention down to the hem, she let one finger run gently across the dark fur leading down into his jeans. She hoped he couldn't hear her deep breathing.
A knocking on the door and "Housekeeping" broke the moment.
Johnny yelled, "Hold on."
They hurried into socks and shoes, grabbed their valuables and squeezed by the Hungarian woman with the linen cart.
* * * *
The taxi deposited Johnny and Susan near the gaggle of Mister Wright's fans. The crowd turned to inspect the new arrivals, simultaneously sticking their snouts up and whispering to one another.
Johnny asked, "Why are we here, again?"
"To see if Melody is in the crowd. You remember what her picture looks like, don't you?"
"Yep. Blonde and blue. Is she your height?"
"No, she's tall. Well, taller."
"Heavy, skinny?"
"Medium."
"You start here, I'll go down to the other end and we'll meet in the middle."
Susan approached the woman nearest her. It was the same cowgirl-hatted lady from this morning. "Hi, I'm Susan."
The woman looked at her suspiciously. She sarcastically said, "Hi, I'm Penelope. I'm Mister Wright's biggest fan. What do you want?" she snarled.
Susan realized this was Penelope from the mailing list. The one that bragged about her camera and visiting with Mister Wright all the time. "I'm looking for my cousin, Melody Utley. Do you know her?"
"So what's in it for me?"
Susan cocked her head, wondering if she'd heard this Penelope person correctly. "What?"
"So what will you give me if I say yes?"
"I'm sorry. I just need to find her."
"Well, why don't you and your boy-toy go and sweet talk the cop again? You ain't gettin' anything free from me or any of my girls. You just scoot on back where you came from, Susan."
Susan's stomach knotted. The double cheeseburger was complaining loudly to the sweet and sour sauce she had dunked her fries in. Why did this woman have to be so mean to her? She was a nice girl and had asked a reasonable question. If Johnny had asked that question, she'd bet he'd have elicited a better response. Where had he vanished to anyway?
Susan stomped away and into the middle of the crowd of women. Hairspray and cheap perfume and what was that other smell? Hand lotion. They stunk up a nasty combination. Susan tapped a very short woman on the shoulder. Taller than a dwarf, but not very. The woman turned and glared at her.
Susan smiled. "Hi, I'm Susan and I'm looking for my cousin, Melody Utley..."
"Does Susan have a last name?"
"Cervini."
The little woman wagged her finger.
No one had ever wagged a finger in Susan's face.
"Get outta my face, Susan Cervini. You're the reason I lost my Mister Wright's Delights group!" She lunged toward Susan. A stocky bald guy wedged himself between them and tried to calm the enraged woman.
Susan stepped back until the crowd swallowed her up. She bumped her heel and turned to see that she had knocked into a forest green electric wheelchair. "Oh, I'm so sorry."
An exhausted looking young woman with atrophied legs smiled. "My fault, honey. Not a problem. I'm Rose from Barbados."
Susan smiled and shook her hand.
Rose said, "And this is my grandma. She's ninety-one years old."
Susan looked at the obese nonagenarian with an osteoporosis hump in her back. She stuck her hand out and smiled. "Hi, I'm Susan. It's very nice to meet you."
Grandma grabbed Susan's hand and scratched it. "Where's the gum?"
Susan said, "I'm sorry?"
Rose shouted, "Grandma, this is Susan. She doesn't have any gum."
"Why not?"
Susan said, "I'm sorry. I don't chew gum. I always bite the insides of my cheeks when I do."
Grandma said, "I'm gonna blow Mister Wright with my teeth out." Then she removed her dentures to demonstrate.
Johnny appeared. Thank God. Susan said, "Nice meeting you ladies." She turned to Johnny and said, "Get me out of here!"
He had a hard time keeping up with Susan because she'd decided to jog back to the hotel. By the time they'd reached McDonald's she was out of breath.
Johnny asked, "What got into you?"
She panted, "Those women. Mean. Weird. Sad."
"Oh, they were great to me. Except no one would tell me anything about Melody. But I did get two room key cards for the Howard Johnson's motel."
Susan turned up one corner of her mouth. "Sure you did."
"Reach into my front pocket."
Susan wondered if he kept it on the left or on the right. "Which pocket?"
"You guess."
She stuck her hand into his right pocket and pulled out two Ho Jo room keys. "Unbelievable!" She looked up and down the street, until she spotted a trash can. She stomped over and threw them in.
Johnny called out, "Oh, come on, let me have some fun. I've never done five girls at one time."
"And you never will either." She walked back over to him.
He raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like you're getting awfully bossy about my sex life."
"Trust me. You don't want anything to do with those girls. Nothing but trouble."
He chuckled. "You're the only one I want. Have ever wanted. Come on, I'll buy you a Coke." He pushed the door to McDonald's open. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it as they waited in line. Johnny ordered a Coke for Susan and a Diet Coke for himself.
Susan said, "And a hot caramel sundae with nuts. Extra nuts."
Johnny gave her an Elvis smile and paid the petite Latina lady. He and Susan sat in a booth overlooking the street. Johnny draped his arm over her shoulders as he sucked soda through a straw. Nice and cold. He swallowed and said, "So, did anybody know your cousin?"
"Don't know. One lady, Penelope, his biggest fan, wanted money for the info."
Johnny laughed.
Susan ripped open a pack of crushed peanuts. "The second woman I approached was Cookies Crumble from the fan e-mailing list. She has it in for me." Susan shook out the nuts. Most of them landed on her ice cream.
"What did you do?"
"I have no idea. Misunderstanding. She claims I cost her her e-mail list by posting that someone tried to murder Mister Wright."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because she told me someone did."
Johnny shook his head. "I'm confused."
"Me, too." Susan scooped vanilla ice cream and nuts. She twisted the caramel dangling from her white plastic spoon. "The only nice girl there was Rose from Barbados. The one in the green wheelchair. I might've been able to communicate with her, but her nymphomaniac grandmother grossed me out."
"What?"
"You don't want to know."
"Maybe granny is one of the girls for my orgy?" He raised his eyebrows.
Susan laughed. So did Johnny.
* * * *
Adam Wright entered Bush General Hospital via a food delivery truck. His three security men rushed him in the kitchen entrance. He made his way to the fourth floor office of Dr. Jason Noshanani. One guard went in and checked the office before allowing Adam clear passage.
Adam waited, then knocked on the doctor's door.
"Come in, Mister Wright. Have a seat."
"I'm really sorry for the security check."
"Better to be safe. Not a problem. Sit."
Adam's stomach clinched into a tight knot. He wrapped his arms around it. "No, just tell me."
Dr. Jason Noshanani sat behind his glass-topped mahogany desk and removed four pages from a file folder. His eyes widened as he handed them to Adam.
"Just tell me what they say."
The doctor inhaled. "This is so awkward for me, as Lauren's um, colleague, I feel like I'm betraying—"
"Stop it. My little boy's life hangs on the line. Do the right thing, Noshanani."
"Okay, as you know, Adam, Junior is not your son."
"So says you. But I'm his daddy and there is no test in the world that will disprove the love in my heart." Adam wept. "Come on. Tell me about the others.
Adam could hear Dr. Noshanani's trousers rustling against his sock as he ground his shoe into the floor, raised his heel, and shook his leg from the knee down. Adam said, "What, you gotta go to the bathroom real bad? Come on, spit it out. Tell me."
"No...you are not Connor's father. You are not Tyler's father..."
Adam plopped down into a nubby upholstered consultation chair. Tears flowed down his cheeks. Digging into the arms of the worn chair, he breathed through his mouth.
"However...you are most likely, over ninety-nine percent probability, the biological father of the baby girl your wife is carrying. A healthy, normal, baby girl."
Adam said, "What?" He wiped his face on his short denim sleeve.
"Congratulations. You have fathered a healthy baby girl." The physician's expression was inappropriately serene. He handed Adam a box of tissues.
"You're sure? It's my baby? A girl...?"
"As sure as today's science can be. Here, look at the lab findings." He handed Adam the results of the DNA test on Lauren's amniotic fluid.
Adam smiled. He passed the paper back over the desk. "I can't take this or any of them. She can't know. That I know. Here." Adam flipped the business card of his attorney out of his shirt pocket. "Send the DNA reports to my lawyer, all right?"
Dr. Noshanani nodded. "If there is anything else I can do—"
"The donor. Is he healthy? Are you sure he's a good match? Did he pass the psychological tests?"
"Yes. Everything is set for the surgery. Your son has an excellent chance."
"What's the donor's name?"
Dr. Noshanani opened another file. "Mr. Utley. Mr. Zander Utley from Nevada."
"Utley...hmm...all right, thanks, doc."