On A Run (4 page)

Hannah went to her laptop bag and pulled out the notes she had written for the day. But the words blurred together and she couldn’t bring herself to focus. Instead, she glanced at the brightly covered folder that Doug had provided her with. She opened it up and pulled out the first piece of paper inside, titled “Concierge Lounge”. Hannah remembered that Doug said that breakfast was served at six thirty a.m. She looked at the clock by the bed. It was just past seven fifteen. She had plenty of time to go get something to eat before heading to the key note speaker at eight thirty. The speaker was a well-known author whom Hannah didn’t actually know much about.

Hannah grabbed her room key and notes and headed back down the maze of hallways. Some bleary eyed parents were being dragged by their children toward the elevators and Hannah noted at least one set of bleary eyed children being dragged by their excited parents. They walked by her as she paused at the door to the concierge lounge. She slid her key into the lock and for one stressful moment worried that somehow her key wouldn’t work. But of course it did, and she entered into a room filled with every good smell and sight a person could imagine. It was like a buffet of forbidden foods. And coffee! She looked around to see who to pay and for the prices, but there was no register. She nearly embarrassed herself by asking, when it dawned on her that families were taking what they wanted and heading for the door.

“This must come with the room,
” she thought, and Hannah grabbed herself a mug, filled it with steaming black heaven, then placed a muffin on a plate and went to sit for just a moment near a window.

She looked out over the street below, filled not with cars but with shops and people all hurrying in one direction. But they weren’t hurrying like the people in the cities hurried. There wasn’t that feeling of stress and worry and dread on their faces. People skipped and laughed and held hands as they went. It was wonderful to observe. There were families of all kinds; typical families with two parents and any number of children, but also extended families with grandmas or grandpas and numerous other possible combinations. And for a moment, Hannah wished she was one of them, comfortable and happy to be swept along with the crowd.

“May I take your plate?”

The voice startled Hann
ah out of her reverie.

“Oh, yes,
” she responded dimly.

Hannah looked at her watch, it was nearly eight and her heart started to pound. It was almost time to go down to hear the keynote speaker, and then…. Hannah suddenly wished she hadn’t eaten, or had coffee. She wished she were back home, safe within the four walls of her cabin. She wished she could disappear. Hannah concentrated on what one of her few and unproductive therapy sessions had taught her to do, which was to try to breathe. Often this was counterproductive; however, and she felt like the more she tried to breathe the less she was actually able to. Pulling herself together, she stood and walked to the door. It took every ounce of her will power to turn right towards the elevators versus left toward her room.

Hannah passed by the oak desk that she had sat at the night before and was disappointed to see a woman sitting there instead of Doug.

“Oh well,” she thought, “I guess he deserves to go home for the night.” Still, she couldn’t help but feel a little jilted. It was Saturday, and she wondered if he had the weekend off. She had begun to think of him as part of the hotel package – room, concierge lounge, and Doug.

Hannah slowed her speed to allow the group climbing into the elevator to push the down button and have the elevator doors close before approaching them for the next available one. It came in just a moment and she stepped in, immediately pushing the first floor and then the close arrow button so that the door would close right away, limiting the possibility that anyone would get on with her. As the elevator sank to the lobby Hannah found herself beginning to relax. She stared at the intricate wooded patterns in the floor and listened to the piped in new age jazz playing. Hannah smiled briefly, lucky to make no stops along the way. Too soon she heard a ding indicating that she had reached the first floor and she geared up again to make herself actually get off the elevator. So intent was Hannah in getting off the elevator that she nearly walked straight into Doug, who was getting on.

“Good morning Ms. Glen, I hope you had a nice rest.”

“Yes, thank you.” Hannah was relieved, for some odd reason that he was here. She smiled to herself at the absurdity of that. “I have one person I know in California.”

Hannah found her way past the main registration desk and down a new maze of hallways, following, as directed, the signs for the ballrooms (“Well I suppose of course there would be a ballroom.”), convention rooms, and theme parks. Everyone seemed to be following the same path and, sure enough, as she was just about to pass under the sign to Downtown Disney and the theme parks, she saw a sign posted directing participants to the Southern California Authors Convention. Hannah noticed that her presentation room and book signing table were just off the main hallway. Her throat tightened some and she hurried past the room, not yet ready to think about her turn. Hannah signed in at the conference registration desk, receiving her presenter’s packet along with the schedule of events. Holding these tightly to her chest, she entered the main conference room, which was filling rapidly with people. Hannah found herself a seat in the back on the left side aisle, a place where she could make a hasty escape if she needed to. She stared straight ahead, her ears beginning to ring, and the feeling of tunnel vision starting again. It was always like this for her, in crowds. She concentrated harder on trying to breathe and be invisible, avoiding the chit chat of the excited people around her. Now she wished she had brought her coffee down with her for security and comfort and warmth. The room was freezing and the stress had already begun to make her shiver a little. Breathe in, breathe out. It wasn’t helping. Hannah swallowed a few times and was just about to bolt for the door when the conference president stood up at the podium.

“I would like to welcome you all to the Southern California Authors Convention…”

Hannah’s mind already began to wander. Now that all eyes were focused forward, she allowed herself to look around a little. The room was filled with people of all types, from the fairly young (she saw a girl in the audience who looked like she might only be around nine, though Hannah never had a sense for age), to teens, to some extremely old people. They all seemed perfectly content to be sitting in this room together and applauded as a group for the keynote speaker who had just been introduced.

Hannah paid a little more attention, partly because this was the competition, partly because she wondered what inspiration the competition might impart. But as the keynote enthusiastically launched into her speech, Hannah began to panic. The woman was dynamic, funny, eloquent, and was talking about the very types of things that Hannah had prepared for her own speech.

“Oh my God!” Hannah’s thoughts raced and then clouded and bogged until she could think of nothing at all. “Oh my God!” She forced herself to be calm for a moment; maybe she could get away with it. This was a writer’s convention. All of the speakers were probably talking about the same thing.

The audience burst out laughing at something that was just said. Not only could Hannah not say the same things this woman was saying, she certainly couldn’t say them as well. She got out of her seat and staggered toward the door, trying desperately to keep her meager breakfast inside of her.

“I just will not show up. I will go back to my room and call Sheila and tell her to call the lawyers because this just isn’t going to happen.”

Hannah walked quickly, eyes forward back to the main hallway where she paused to let a family, on their way out toward the parks, pass. In the family’s midst was a beautiful and tiny girl with blonde curls and a determined look on her face. She was dressed complete in a Cinderella outfit. For a brief moment, this girl’s and Hannah’s eyes met and the girl smiled, almost a knowing smile. The family kept walking but Hannah had been struck still by the moment. Then the idea hit her and she turned and raced for the elevators.

Hannah was trying to remember to walk indoors as she passed by Doug who was sitting, as promised, at the oak desk.

He smiled, nodded and asked serendipitously, “Is there anything that you need?”

Hannah began to say no but then stopped and asked, with doubt, “Could you get me some colored markers, or crayons, or pens and some white paper?”

“Certainly.” Doug seemed to be certain at least. “Any special kind of paper?”

“No, just printer paper would be fine.”

“Give me just a few minutes and I will have them here for you.” Doug reached to his hip and pulled off a walkie-talkie. Hannah began to head for her room and then turned.

“Is there a Disney CD I could borrow also?”

“Of course.” Doug smiled and he turned back to his walkie-talkie.

Hannah, who got lost for just a moment trying to find her room, finally found herself in the right place, went inside, grabbed her laptop and then headed back out. By the time she got back to Doug’s table, he had gathered multiple boxes of magic markers, a stack of white paper, and a Disney parks CD.

“Thank you! I will return them right away.” Hannah was amazed.

“As lo
ng as they are back by midnight!” Doug winked.

Hannah stood for a moment, confused, not catching the reference, and then laughed out loud at the joke. Doug: the fairy godmother. She got onto the elevator with a plan and a bounce in her step.

CHAPTE
R
FOUR

Juggling the markers on top of the paper and leaning precariously to the side to keep her laptop bag from sliding off her shoulder, Hannah hustled as fast as was safe to the room she was presenting in. She stopped at the entry only long enough to see the bio they had posted at the doorway. It included an older picture of her, she wasn’t sure how old even, or where Sheila had gotten it. But it was a good one. Below was a list of the novels she had written – the most recent from more than a couple of years ago. But it also stated that she was currently working on her latest novel. Finally it noted that she lived in a mountain town in Colorado.

Hannah made it into the room before spilling the entire pile of papers and markers from her arms onto one of the tables and then to the floor. Ignoring the mess, she went to the podium where she plugged in and turned on her laptop. She tested the mike awkwardly, not knowing what to say into it, given the off chance that someone might walk into the room at any moment. She turned to gather the mess off the floor, and began placing a paper and marker at each of the seats. When she got to the last seat at the back, she looked at the front of the room, satisfied for the moment, and went back to the keynote speaker.

Hannah was able to enjoy the rest of the presentation, relaxing into the moment with a feeling of pride and awe that she was a part of this profession. When the presentation was over, she stood and stretched and found her way to the ladies room before looking for some water. She found bottled water at a table where people were mingling before heading for their breakout sessions. Hannah grabbed a bottle and went to her assigned room and stood at the front, waiting.

The room began to fill, first a lone elderly woman entered, then a group of women older than Hannah, a family, an older gentleman… They kept coming in and Hannah smiled politely while not making eye contact with anyone, eventually not even noting them as they entered. She checked the clock on her laptop. 9:59. One more minute. She loaded the CD into the laptop and paused it when it registered. Then she looked up and the room became amazingly quiet, its occupants staring back at her waiting in anticipation. Hannah suppressed the serious urge to giggle. These people were either sorely confused or misguided.

“Good Morning.” Hannah tried to make her voice natural and smiled as widely as she could. “I am Hannah Glen and I am an author of modern romance. I assume this is a genre of fiction that you are all interested in writing, and I hope today that I can inspire some of you to go ou
t and just write, write, write.”

Hannah felt like a cheerleader re-spouting the advice that every author gives newcomers to the field. The room was uncomfortably quiet.

“You all were given a piece of paper and a marker. I am about to put on some music and for the duration of the music I want you to draw a single line from a starting point until an ending point. You must keep the marker on the paper at all times, without lifting the point until the music stops.”

People shuffled their belongings to set the papers to where they could write on them. Some people had to turn their papers over, as they had already begun doodling on one side. Hannah got her own marker ready by the tablet that Doug had arranged for her and pressed the play button on the lap top.

“A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you’re fast asleep….” The theme from Cinderella began to fill the room. Hannah started her marker on her paper and began to draw her line up and down and around until it became a kaleidoscope of squiggles and lines. She felt as though she were dancing with the marker in some waltz, and lost track of time or place for just a moment. When the song ended she paused, smiling, and then pressed stop on the program and turned around.

The room was quiet, but mostly a peaceful quiet. Some people were studying the creations they had made; some were staring up at her with a pleased or calm look on their faces. Hannah re-capped her marker and began.

“A novel is something like the pictures we have just made. It has a beginning and an end and in between it takes us on a journey of twists and turns, ups and downs.” She continued with this analogy making comments about subplots and character backgrounds and how romance fiction differed from other genres along the route.

“In romance fiction, the end is soon after the heroine and hero have found each other and finally come together,” (there were some snickers from the audience, and Hannah blushed slightly, not meaning the innuendo.) “because no one really wants to know what happens in the ‘happily ever after’. That is why there are rarely sequels to romance novels. You wouldn’t want to know that Snow White can’t lose the baby weight and her prince becomes balding and they settle into a life in front of the television not long after he whisks her away on his white steed. This is a different genre altogether.”

More laughter.

“In romance, it is all about leaving the reader believing that there is a happily ever after. Walt Disney knew this and monopolized on it.”

Hannah looked up at the clock on the back wall. She had managed to fill the entire time she was allotted, except for the five minutes she had originally planned for questions and answers. A few hands shot up and she spoke briefly about her favorite books and characters. When she offered to take one last question it was from a young wom
an, perhaps just twenty.

“What got you started writing novels?”

Hannah felt the wind go out of her. Her mind played, in fast motion, the events that led up to her beginning to write novels. She had always liked to write stories, but after her parents death she used writing as a pain killer, a way to blot out the realities of her present and transform her to a different time and place and life altogether.

“I have always been a writer.” She paused, telling that bit of truth. “I was one of the lucky ones for whom writing novels became more than just a hobby.” It was also the truth.

Finally, as there were no more questions, Hannah announced, “There is a conference bookstore set up in the main hallway, and I will be signing books at a table there. Thank you all so much for coming, and don’t forget to ‘write, write, write!’”

The audience applauded sincerely, if not as enthusiastically as they had for the keynote. Hannah was pleased though. She had done it and had done ok. She left the room to go sit at her appointed signing table, the audience members collecting their items and shuffling out behind her. She placed herself behind her table, pen in hand, waiting to see if anyone bothered to come buy a book and get it autographed.

Her first customer was a little girl who had pulled away from her family as they were walking by on their way toward the theme parks. The little girl handed Hannah her Mickey Mouse autograph book. Hannah looked questioningly at the parents who smiled and nodded. She laughed, and signed with big bold strokes ‘HANNAH’. As the girl was walking away, she looked at the autographed page then stopped in her tracks, mouth open in surprise. She turned and looked at the Hannah who had signed her book, and then excitedly caught up with her parents who had kept walking. Hannah wondered who she thought she was.

A few people came to the table. The girl who asked Hannah how she had become a novelist shyly handed Hannah a copy of her first book to sign. Next was a woman who asked Hannah when her next book would be coming out. (Hannah, gratefully, could tell her that it was almost finished being written and that she should look for by next year.) Behind her came a slight woman with a sharp nose. The woman was not carrying a book to be signed.

“I didn’t agree with what you said about the story ending with a ‘happily ever after’”. Her tone concurred with this. “There is no such thing as happily ever after, the story should be told until the end.”

Hannah didn’t know what to say. She wondered what that meant; until the characters died. That would make for rather grim reading. The woman obviously didn’t expect an answer because she had already huffed off to another table. Hannah wondered what bit of advice she might have for the next author, but also was shaken. Her mind started to agree with the woman, and Hannah lost all of her confidence.

“She’s right. I have no business giving a lecture on writing. I have no idea what I am talking about”. Hannah’s posture modeled her thoughts, and if she could, she would have shrunk into herself, disappearing completely.

“She obviously doesn’t believe in fairy tales.” Hannah heard a rich toned voice and looked up. Standing in front of her was a man, perhaps around her own age, though she couldn’t be certain. He had straight, coal black hair, olive skin, almond eyes and a warm smile. “I thought your talk was spot on.”

Hannah was surprised. She hadn’t remembered seeing this man in the room, but then, she really didn’t focus on anyone’s faces. Still, him she thought she would remember.
“Thank you,” was all she could muster.

“Daniel.” He held out his hand.

“Hannah.”
Duh
, she cringed reaching for his hand. It was warm and soft and enveloped hers gently. As usual, she shook hands too hard and was embarrassed for it. It was a leftover habit from when she worked in the news world and tried to be professional, i.e. manly.

“I have to apologize; I haven’t read your work before. I am not generally a romance reader.”

Hannah wondered why he had come to her talk then. “Most men don’t read romance,” Hannah shrugged, “though some will write it,” she added, just in case.

“I am more into mysteries and action. But I figured I should get some perspective on other genres.” Hannah noticed one of her novels in his hand. He saw her glance and smiled sheepishly. “For my niece” he said and passed it to Hannah to sign.

“What is her name?”

“Anastasia. She loves fairy tales. I thought I would tell her about your analogy. Who knows, perhaps she will grow up to be a romance novelist!”

“God help her!” Hannah laughed.

They stood there in an awkward silence for a moment. There was no one in line behind Daniel for Hannah to attend to, which was good because she wasn’t sure she
could take her eyes off of him.

Finally, shuffling his feet like a school boy, Daniel offered, “I am heading to the park this afternoon, would you like to come?”

Hannah was momentarily confused until she figured out that “the park” meant Disneyland Park. The idea of accepting stuck in her throat for just a moment, but in the end her cautious side won out.

“Thank you, no, I am going to finish up here and then go back to my room for the afternoon. It has been a busy day…” she added half as an apology, half as an excuse.

“I am sorry; I should have assumed you were here with someone.” It was the only explanation he could imagine.

“No, actually, I am alone. I was supposed to come with my agent, but she is having a baby and there were complications…. Oh!”

Hannah suddenly realized that she hadn’t called Sheila since her arrival; she had been so busy with the conference.

“I really should call her and check to see if she is ok….”

Hannah was already gathering her belongings after checking her watch. Her designated hour was about up and besides, the public wasn’t clamoring to see her anyway.

“What about tomorrow then?” Daniel stopped her from her hasty escape.

“I need to do this again tomorrow actually…” Hannah’s resolve was bending under his gaze.

“Tomorrow afternoon? You can’t be busy the entire time you are here. How can you come to Disneyland and not go into the parks?”

“People keep asking me that.” Hannah’s thoughts were said aloud.

“Then it is settled.” Daniel looked at his watch. “I will meet you at noon tomorrow at the Mickey Mouse in front of the train station, right after you come through the turnstile.”

“I…” Hannah stopped. She had run out of excuses. She had the tickets, she had the time, and now she had another person whom she trusted for some reason. She hadn’t felt the want to be around another human being in this way in a very long time and she didn’t know why. “Ok.”

“Great. I will see you at noon then. Are you sure I can’t convince you to come today?” Daniel gave her a pleading look.

“Not today. I really am exhausted. Tomorrow….” Hannah worried that he would make her promise.

“Ok, I can’t wait. It will be like nothing you have ever experienced before, I promise!”

Neither of them could bring themselves to turn away. The sudden and simultaneous buzzing of each of their cell phones broke the moment.

Hannah fumbled for her phone in her pocket and was pulling it out when she heard Daniel talking into his. “Yup, great, I will be right there.”

“Hello?” Hannah had finally answered her own phone. She looked up and Daniel was still staring at her while listening to the person on his.

“Hannah? How did it go? I have been worried about you!” of course, it was Sheila.

“You have been worried about
me
?”

Hannah looked up and saw Daniel backing away, giving her a little wave and a smile while mouthing the words “Noon. Tomorrow.” Hannah had a hard time remembering what she had been saying.

“How are you? How is the baby? Is everything alright?” her attention was back, fully focused, on the one real friend she actually had.

“All is well. I get to sit around the house all day for the next two months being catered to while the little prince inside of me enjoys the comfort of my body without movement. I never thought being told I had to be a slug would make me so cranky though. Anyway, we are fine. Now how about you? You are in California right?”