Summer Magic (8 page)

"Good.
 
So when can you be ready?"

She glanced down at her dirt-streaked jeans and soiled cotton plaid blouse and wondered when she'd ever find the time to shop for new clothes.
 
"Oh, dear!
 
I didn't realize I'd gotten so filthy.
 
Give me fifteen minutes to change. I'll meet you at Estelle's trailer."

"You got it.
 
Fifteen minutes it is."
 
He winked, and whistling a tune, sauntered away.

*****

Under a star-studded sky, void of further rain, Michael swerved the pickup onto the interstate and headed east. "You look sharp in Estelle's new tank top and jeans," he said.
 
His eyes shone mischievously as he added, "But don't tell her that.”
 
The fleeting glow of a neon light illuminated his face, then faded.

"Your sister's a lifesaver.
 
You should see all the other stuff she's loaned me.
 
I promised her that the first chance we got to go check out a mall, I'd treat her to anything she wants."
 
Biting her lip, Lisa once again fought the temptation to tell him about Claudette's contribution to her wardrobe.

Off in the distance, the silhouettes of palm trees contrasted the indigo sky.
 
Overhead, freeway signs caught the glare of their headlight.
 
Rolling down her window, she inhaled deeply.
 
The night air rushed in and tousled her hair.
 
The cool wash against her cheeks felt invigorating.

"Where are we going?"

"Estelle told me about a super pizza place she discovered when we were on tour here last year.
 
It's not too far up the freeway."

She laughed.
 
"If Estelle says it's good, then it's got to be."

As they drove farther away from the lights of town, the darkness deepened.
 
Against the horizon, the rolling contours of the treeless brown hillsides loomed.
 
The stars grew more dazzling.
 
Thin wisps of clouds scudded by, obscuring a waxing moon, then revealed it again.

Lisa looked about, drinking in the sights, sounds, and smells.
 
It was so different from anything she’d ever experienced while living on the East coast.
 
Almost like magic, a summer sort of magic.
 
Or was it because she was with Michael her senses seemed so alive, the magic so real?

"Tired?" he asked.

"Uh-huh.
 
But I think I'm starting to get my second wind now.
 
And everything here's so incredibly beautiful!" She could smell the tangy fragrance wafting from a nearby orange grove.
 
"Know something, Michael?"
 
Smiling, she looked over at him.

"What?"

"I think I'm going to like this.
 
Traveling from coast to coast, I mean.
 
There's a lot of wanderlust inside of me. Surprising, I suppose, when you consider how often I changed locations during my childhood.
 
I lived in six different states in seventeen years."

"Lisa, there's something--"
 
He broke off.

"What's wrong, Michael?"

"Nothing.
 
I...I think I see the pizza place up ahead. Estelle said we couldn't miss the sign."
 
He turned to meet her gaze, but his expression appeared strained.

Soon they were sitting across from each other, munching slices of Canadian bacon pizza oozing with melted cheese.
 
A small votive candle flickered in the center of the table draped by a red-and-white checkered cloth.

Scattered about the intimate café were several couples, some young, others older.
 
In a corner booth a group of giggling teenagers waited for their order to arrive.

Michael leaned forward and reached for Lisa's hand.
 
The flickering candlelight accented the planes and angles of his face.
 
He appeared more handsome than ever.

For a long while, neither spoke.
 
Then, at last, Michael broke the silence.

"Lisa..."

"Yes?"

He grazed his thumb over her ring finger, studying her intently.
 
"When we were talking earlier...about working with the circus...about the wanderlust and the travel..."
 
He hesitated.

"Go on.
 
What is it?"

He glanced furtively about the small room.
 
Not enough privacy
, he thought.
 
But I can't put it off any longer.
  "I'm concerned about you, Lisa.
 
Sometimes I get the feeling you might have an ulterior motive.
 
Like you might be running away."

Caution washed over her.
 
Once again she regretted how unwisely she'd told him about her engagement to Charles. But it was too late now.
 
She couldn't take it back.

Shifting her weight, she feigned nonchalance.
 
"Don't be ridiculous, Michael.
 
That's just an old cliché about people running off with the circus.
 
Whatever would make you say a thing like that?"
 
She shifted beneath his steady gaze.

"The engagement, Lisa.
 
The engagement you said came to an end.
 
Was that why?"

She lifted one shoulder.
 
"All right.
 
You win.
 
Yes, that was part of it."

"Can you talk about it?
 
Can you tell me what happened?"

She shook her head.

The stillness stretched between them.
 
Finally he spoke in a low voice.
 
"I had no business asking."
 
His eyes delved into hers as he squeezed her hand.
 
"It...it wasn't fair of me."

The tension was so palpable, she could almost reach out and touch it.
 
She let out a steadying breath.
 
What was the use?
 
Michael could see right through her.
 
Besides, it was time to shoot straight with him.

"No, Michael.
 
I'm the one who's unfair.
 
Besides, I...I've held it inside for far too long."
 
She wadded up the paper napkin she'd opened onto her lap.
 
"His name is Charles.
 
Charles Bergman.
 
He was an up and coming lawyer in Manhattan.
 
Climbed all the right corporate ladders. Hobnobbed with all the right people.
 
We met at a surprise fortieth birthday party that Doc Largent threw for his wife. And...well...one thing sort of led to another."

"You mean it was love at first sight?"

She sipped her cola before continuing.
 
"Yes--at least as far as I was concerned.
 
Before I realized it, I was completely taken by him.
 
It wasn't long before I believed he loved me also."
 
She pursed her lips, blinking back a tear. "But then, why shouldn't I have?
 
He gave me an engagement ring, swore there'd never be another.
 
But...but then one day...one day he announced it was over.
 
He said we weren't compatible, that I'd never understand the demands of his profession.
 
He also told me he'd fallen in love with a district attorney.
 
Her name was Ramona.
 
Ramona Fullerton. Anyway...Charles said they planned to marry soon...on Valentine's Day."
  
His face became a watery blur as a finally released tear coursed down her cheek.
 
"It all happened so fast."

He let go of her hand, and with infinite tenderness, brushed the tear away.
 
"Ah, Lisa.
 
What a fool Charles was. What a fool to let you go..."

She couldn’t remove her gaze from him.
 
His eyes, those deep blue pools, brimmed with understanding.

Yet she felt suddenly exposed.
 
Vulnerable. Pulling herself from her spiraling thoughts, she forced her attention back to what he was saying.

"There's something I want to tell you, Lisa."
 
He took her hand again.
 
Squeezed it harder.
 
"Will you hear me out?"

"Of course.
 
What is it?"

"After a while the highways--the towns--well, they all start to look the same.
 
You've got to love the circus because it's become a part of you.
 
You've got to breathe it. Eat it.
 
Make it your own.
 
For me being an aerialist is who I am--not just what I do."

"I
do
want that," she said.
 
"More than anything in the world.
 
Please believe me, my motivations involve more than just running.
 
Working with the circus means the world to me too, Michael.
 
Besides, I'm a survivor.
 
I intend to give it whatever it takes."

He didn't appear convinced.
 
He took another bite of pizza, and chewed slowly.
 
"Perhaps.
 
I know we've already talked about it briefly, Lisa, but you might be up against more than you realize.
 
Doc's first assistant lasted only three weeks.
 
The second managed to hang on till only two weeks before her probation period was up, then threw in the towel and left anyway."

Visions of Claudette flashed through her mind.
 
Hadn't Michael's twin issued subtle warnings too--her own hidden agenda?
 
Unexpectedly Lisa's anger flared.
 
Why was everyone trying to discourage her?
 
Or more to the point, trying to drive her away?
 
Michael too?

"I'm not sure where all this conversation is leading us, Michael," she said tightly, "but now it's my turn to speak." Her head throbbed.
 
"Maybe you think I'm not going to make it with Jessell and Stern, but you're wrong.
 
Dead wrong!
 
I'm not sure why it should even matter to you. And if it should turn out that I become assistant number three who goes down the tube, it's my life!
 
And I'll be darned if I'm going to let another man step in again and try to ruin it!"

There!
 
She'd said it.
 
Fighting back another flood of tears, she sprang to her feet and marched towards the restaurant door.

"Lisa!
 
Wait!
 
I didn't mean it that way!
 
I...I was only trying to help."
 
Michael sprinted after her.

Alongside the pickup, she stopped in her tracks.
 
He planted both hands firmly on her shoulders, waiting for her to turn and face him.
 
"Lisa, I'm sorry.
 
Really I am.
 
I don't want to fight."

She couldn't let him see the tears streaming down her face.
 
With much effort, she choked back a sob.

"Lisa.
 
Look at me.
 
Please."

Hesitantly she turned around and lifted her gaze.
 
The expression on his face made fresh tears fall.

Wordlessly he reached out again to brush them away.
 
His touch was driving her insane.

"Oh, Michael, I'm sorry too.
 
I must...I must be more tired than I realized."
 
She toyed with the collar of his light-weight jacket and offered him a contrite smile. "Please forgive me?"

How could she excuse herself?
 
Explain to him that Claudette's cruel trick had left her a trifle suspicious and a lot afraid?
 
She had no recourse.
 
She couldn't let him know.
 
She'd already determined to handle it alone, and she wouldn't back down.

"Let's just forget it," Michael said hoarsely, pulling her closer.
 
His mouth covered hers, softly at first, then with unexpected urgency.