Morning Song Read online

  ‘Van and Marie are having another one of their parties this weekend, and I thought you might like to get away from the social whirl for a few hours. I have tickets to a show in Denver; we can have dinner at a quiet little restaurant and take in some culture for a change.’

  She managed, just barely, a laugh. ‘That sounds like exchanging one social whirl for another. What’s the show?’

  He watched her carefully. ‘A Chorus Line.’

  She dropped her eyes, waiting for the hurt to come. A Chorus Line, that smash Broadway musical that depicted the lives of the unsung heroes of the theatre—her life. It was the dream of every dancer to appear in that show, he surely must know what even the mention of the title would mean to her. And she waited for the pain, the anger, the frustrated raging at fate to begin inside her—but, curiously, it never did. Still, she responded cautiously, looking at him, ‘I’ve seen it.’

  ‘So have I.’ His voice was even, his eyes very steady. ‘I thought it was about time we saw it together.’

  She caught the inside of her inner lip between her teeth, wondering once again what meaning lay behind the words he would not reveal. Only caring, she realised slowly. Shane was only showing that he cared for her, and still wanted to share with her ... She did not hesitate much longer. ‘Thanks,’ she said steadily, her eyes quietly accepting the gesture and the reason for it. ‘I’d like that.’

  He smiled, and even though it was only a quiet, tender smile, it seemed the whole room was suddenly bathed in brilliance. ‘Good,’ he said simply, and closed the door behind him.

  The next two days were rainy and cold, and their morning walks were eliminated. Shane was busy with long-distance phone calls to his own studio or in consultation with Van, and Lauren was busy helping Marie prepare for the Saturday night party. But even though they saw very little of one another, the warm glow with which he had left her on their last meeting remained and regenerated. Something was changing, and she was not certain whether it was within her or between them. In his presence she was relaxed and content, and when she was away from him he filled her thoughts. She awoke happy and full of energy, and at night he hovered over her dreams like a benediction—a warm, subtle presence which could not be analysed, but which filled her with tranquillity simply because it was there. She had never felt more alive in her life.

  By Saturday the rain had cleared, but the temperature was dropping and the sky remained heavy with lead-coloured clouds. At breakfast Van commented, ‘Looks like the beginning of winter is at hand.’ And Marie worried about the possibility of severe weather which might ruin the party.

  Lauren glanced at Shane, afraid the brewing storm might cancel their own plans, but his smile was reassuring. She settled back to finish her meal happily.

  Marie and Van were not the least bit insulted that their two house guests preferred not to attend their party. As a matter of fact, since Lauren and Shane were leaving early to allow plenty of time for dinner before the show, Marie was able to devote her full attention to helping Lauren dress, and she did it with enthusiasm.

  Lauren chose, from the few party dresses she had brought with her, a wine-coloured velvet, simple yet regal. It was gathered at the waist into a modified bell skirt which fell just above the calves. The sleeves were dropped below the shoulder and their full cut gathered at the wrist with a tiny ruching of white cotton lace which was repeated at the high neckline. Marie took from her own jewellery collection a mid-length strand of pearls which shone richly against the velvet background. Lauren, who as a rule wore very little jewellery, was awed by the effect, and she fingered the strand nervously.

  ‘I’ll be so afraid I might lose them,’ she protested, ‘I won’t be able to think about anything else.’

  ‘Oh, yes, you will,’ Marie assured her with a maternal smile, presenting the matching earrings. ‘You’ll be thinking about how beautiful you look and how all the other women are trying to keep their husbands’ eyes off you ... and about what a wonderful time you’re having.’

  Marie brushed Lauren’s hair into a stylish knot at the side of her head and, as a finishing touch, added a silver comb which was threaded with velvet ribbon the colour of her dress. The ribbons dangled attractively just below her left ear, and Lauren was thrilled with the effect. They both stepped back to observe the result of the efforts in the mirror, and Marie practically beamed as she hugged her shoulders. ‘Perfect,’ she announced. ‘You look—radiant, and,’ she added slyly, ‘I’m not at all sure that has anything to do with the colour of your dress.’

  Lauren laughed and noticed that the rich velvet did seem to be reflected in her face, making her eyes shine as softly as the pearls at her throat. But she also knew the colour had little to do with costuming ... it was happiness, pure and simple. She was going out with Shane, for the first time they would have an evening entirely to themselves, and she could not have been more excited if it had been her first date.

  Shane was in the living room, talking with Van, when she came down. He was dressed in a dark suit and pale grey striped tie, and his hair was fluffy and shiny against the white collar. Gold cufflinks gleamed at his wrists and he looked every inch the gentleman, comfortable and at ease in the fine attire.

  He turned when she walked in, and his eyes reflected the sincerity of his words. ‘You look,’ he said softly, and paused for just a moment in his selection of just the right adjective, ‘elegant.’

  The compliment was all the more dear because of the thoughtfulness and sincerity which had backed it, and was so typical of him. He could have said ‘beautiful’ or ‘marvellous’, but those were stock phrases, often meaningless. He had searched for the exact word to pinpoint his meaning and to reflect the way she felt, and a thrill of happiness rushed through her as she came over to him.

  ‘I’ve never seen you in a dress before,’ he added, a sparkle in his eye as he swept her up and down. ‘There should be a law that woman can wear nothing else.’

  ‘I’ve never seen you in anything other than jeans, either,’ she retorted lightly, teasing him. ‘The transformation is incredible!’

  He laughed and took her arm, and Marie and Van watched like benevolent parents as they left the house.

  The hour drive to Denver was peaceful and pleasant, marred only once by Shane’s comment, ‘I have to get back to L.A. pretty soon. Work is piling up on me, and there’s only so much I can do over the telephone.’ Lauren glanced at him, trying to subdue the crushing disappointment which seemed out of place on this, what promised to be the most perfect night of her life. The look she met in his eyes told her he was gently trying to prepare her for his leaving, and, in truth, she should have been prepared for it long ago. She turned her eyes back to the dusty mountain road and asked, as casually as she could, ‘When will you leave?’

  ‘A couple of weeks at the outside.’ Still, she felt his eyes on her as he divided his attention between the road and the expression on her face.

  The next question was more difficult. ‘Will—you come back?’

  Her eyes were wide and grey as they looked at him in the twilight, and they met a gentle smile. ‘Probably,’ he said, and reached for her hand.

  She wrapped her fingers about his and contented herself with that, which, when he said it, sounded more like a promise than an uncertainty.

  The restaurant he had chosen was suited to her mood: romantic, beautifully appointed, elegant. Damask tablecloths, heavy silver, and a vase of budding roses complemented every table. Their table overlooked the twinkling lights of the city below and the shadowy mountains in the background, and Lauren’s eyes sparkled with the pleasure of it all as she breathed a soft, luxurious sigh of contentment.

  ‘I’ve often imagined you in a setting like this,’ Shane smiled. ‘Why haven’t we done it before?’

  ‘Because you never asked me?’ suggested Lauren lightly, and his eyes twinkled in response.

  ‘Then I promise to correct that in the future,’ he assured her, and lifted his glass to her
in salute.

  As the salad course was served, Shane enquired, ‘Did Van mention to you the big concern he’s getting together for the spring?’

  Lauren shook her head, interested.

  ‘Well, I shouldn’t say “he”, specifically, but several of the top studios are throwing in with some concert promoters to introduce their spring releases in a giant concert in Dodger Stadium. It promises to be pretty exciting—a day-long pop festival, sort of like a modified Woodstock.’

  ‘Greatly modified, I hope,’ she put in, and he grinned. She took a bite of her salad, which was rich with creamy blue cheese and spicy bits of watercress, and then queried, ‘Will you be there?’

  ‘I doubt it,’ he answered, turning to his own salad. ‘Van enjoys racing all over the world keeping his hand in this sort of thing, but I stick strictly to producing records. Besides, I imagine I’ll have my hands full this winter as it is, searching out sentimental love songs to fill the albums we’ve already contracted for.’

  Lauren hesitated a moment, then commented, ‘You never did any love songs.’

  He looked confused. ‘What?’

  ‘That was one thing I always noticed about you,’ she explained. ‘You didn’t sing love songs. I mean, sometimes you sang about it, but it was always in the third person, and almost in passing. I just thought it was curious.’

  Shane seemed to puzzle of that for a moment. ‘You know,’ he admitted at last, ‘I guess you’re right, I never really thought about it before.’

  ‘Any reason?’ she pursued innocently.

  ‘Maybe,’ he answered thoughtfully, and she could tell as he looked at her he was being perfectly honest, ‘because I didn’t know anything about love.’

  She felt a pang for him as she thought about his lonely childhood in an impersonal family, his unhappy marriage which, had ended in tragedy, the bleak sense of isolation which had communicated itself in so many of his songs. She remembered the warmth of her own family, the happiness which had surrounded her growing up years and the support which had continued throughout her young adulthood ... and even when her own parents were gone there had been Marie and Van to step in, every bit as concerned and supportive as natural parents would have been. Lauren’s life had not been without its hardships, but there had always been love. I have so much to give you, she thought, and as she smiled at him across the candlelit table there was a moment of quiet ecstasy because she realised for the first time that it was true. She did have something to offer him, if only he would accept it ...

  The beef bourguignon was superb, and for a time Lauren let the conversation lag as she devoted herself to the full enjoyment of her meal. Shane watched her indulgently, and commented,. ‘I’m glad to see your appetite has improved.’

  She laughed, a little, touching her napkin to her lips and taking a sip of wine. ‘I suppose I was a pretty sorry sight when I first came here,’ she answered.

  ‘Understandable.’ He took up his own glass. ‘After the accident,’ he went on, unexpectedly, ‘I went through something of the same thing. Shock, depression ...’ His voice grew heavy with the pain of those memories, and though his eyes were veiled with sadness the usual impenetrable barrier was not there. He wanted to talk about it, to share it with her, and something within her quickened in response to him. ‘I had a really hard time adjusting. I sometimes think—no, I know—that I haven’t completely. I started to build a new life for myself, and it’s not one that I dislike, but it’s as though ...’ again he paused in search or just the right words, ‘as though I’m constantly living in that misty, musky time just before dawn, waiting for the sun to break through.’ His smile was vague, and tender. ‘But you—you don’t spend your time wandering through the twilight. You gave your grief its proper course, just as you should have, and then you got over it. You made up your mind to recover, and that’s exactly what you’re doing. I admire that,’ he told her honestly. ‘I wish I had the power to make my life that simple.’

  Her hands were folded in her lap, her eyes softened with empathy and gratitude. I love you, she thought slowly, but surely. I love you for sharing this with me, for making me a part of your life at last. I love you just as I always have done, but more, and differently ... and better. For slowly, inexorably, Shane was becoming a real person to her, opening himself for her to discover, and she was finding only what had been there all along, but she had been too blind to see.

  Perhaps he noticed a changing expression in her eyes, or perhaps he simply sensed the intensifying of the atmosphere around them and was unprepared to maintain the mood. The smile he gave her then was light, and he turned back to his meal, guiding the conversation on to more neutral subjects.

  I love you, she thought in utter serenity. It’s that simple.

  The show was a blur of bright colours, glittering costumes, stunning choreography and haunting music, but the sparkle paled before the dazzling emotions which danced inside her. Shane held her hand, and when once or twice she leaned over to whisper a comment to him his answering smile filled her with quiet joy. For two hours they shared a world which had once been hers but was no longer, and the fact that they shared it replaced any lingering sense of loss with a discovery so precious it filled every corner of her with the promise of things to come. She was not alone, and at that moment she did not think she would ever be again. Shane was there for her ... just as he had always been.

  When they came out the streets were blanketed with another unexpected pleasure—a deep, silent drift of snow. Lauren gave an exclamation of delight and lifted her hands to catch the fast-falling flakes of snow, feeling it powder her hair and splash against her face.

  ‘Perfect!’ she cried. ‘What a lovely way to end the evening!’

  Shane gave her a wry look. ‘I hope you’ll still say so when I tell you we’re not driving home in this.’

  She stared at him. ‘What? But what will we do? What do you mean?’

  He took her arm to lead her towards the car. ‘I mean it’s too dangerous,’ he said briefly. ‘We’ll wait until morning when the snow-ploughs have been through.’ Her astonishment slowed her steps. ‘What do you mean—morning? Shane, that’s ridiculous! What will we do, where will we stay? You can’t be serious! Just because of a little snow—’

  ‘It will be more than a little snow towards the mountains,’ he returned shortly, and she could feel tension in the muscles of his arm beneath her fingers. ‘We’ll stay in town until the road conditions improve in the morning. No argument,’ he finished firmly as she opened her mouth once again to protest.

  Her confusion was only increased when, at the hotel, he registered them in separate rooms. Until that point she might have thought it was some sort of elaborate joke, or even—though it did not seem Shane’s style—a not-so-subtle way of suggesting to her that the evening would be more appropriately ended by something other than returning to their separate bedrooms under Marie’s and Van’s supervision. But he was very businesslike as he secured their keys and presented one to her, and he spoke little in the elevator.

  ‘I don’t have anything to wear,’ she complained as they made their way down the carpeted hall. ‘This is a ridiculous expense, you know. I’m sure the roads aren’t that bad ... I don’t even have a toothbrush!’

  He found her room number and opened the door, returning her key to her. ‘I’m right next door,’ he said blandly, ‘if you need me.’

  And she watched in incredulous astonishment as he turned and entered his own room.

  She closed her door and sat heavily on the edge of the bouncy bed, rigid with discontent and confusion. What a man of mysteriously changing moods he was! Not even a goodnight ... And after the wonderful closeness they had shared all evening. She kicked off her shoes and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, weary with too many emotions at once, thinking back over the events of the evening, treasuring the time he had shared with her.

  And then it occurred to her slowly, something so simple she should have surely realised
it before, and impatience filled her at her own insensitivity. For Shane was still sharing with her, and expecting her to understand ... Unpleasant memories and a dread of snow, a fatal accident perhaps caused by a slippery road, a caution which was not so unreasonable after all ... Again, she softened in empathy with him, and peace filled her as she once again felt in harmony with him.

  After a time she got up and washed the make-up off her face, took down her hair, and removed her pantyhose and her dress. It would not be the first time she had slept in her slip, or without the amenities of a few basic toiletries, and she remembered lost luggage and mixed-up reservations with a wry grimace as she prepared to get into bed.

  A knock on the communicating door startled her, and Shane’s voice called, ‘It’s just me. Unless you’re shockingly indecent, I’m coming in.’

  She found an extra blanket on the luggage rack and was wrapping herself in it just as he came through the door.

  ‘Charming,’ he commented on the clumsily wrapped blanket, and there was a spark of amusement in his eye. ‘Toothbrush,’ he announced, and handed it to her, ‘and toothpaste. Just so you don’t feel completely cut off from civilisation.’

  Lauren slipped her arm out to retrieve the items while trying to maintain a hold on the blanket. ‘Thanks,’ she said, smiling uncertainly at him. ‘You didn’t have to ...’

  He shrugged it off. ‘It was the least I could do. I called Marie and told her we were all right, and to expect us in the morning. She said,’ he added pointedly, ‘that a lot of their guests are staying overnight because the roads are so bad.’

  She dropped her eyes in contrition and turned to place the toothbrush kit on the dresser. But she turned again when he spoke.

  ‘Lauren,’ he said quietly, ‘I want you to know I didn’t plan this. I have a—thing about driving in bad weather, and I didn’t want to take any chances with you in the car.’ His smile was slightly uneasy, as though wondering whether she would accept that. ‘Another one of my faults.’