The Fan Letter (23 page)

Leslie sighed as she looked out of the huge picture window towards the lapping waves of the ocean. “It was all show. You know that. Just as long as he keeps things the way I write them. That’s all I’m trying to do. I figured a strong front would accomplish that goal. Maybe I overdid it.”

“Nonsense,” he declared. “Don’t change a thing. I love seeing Avery and Nickles on the defense. They aren’t in that position nearly enough. Wow, Eddie would have loved being there today. I’ll be sure to fill him in tomorrow before the reading.”

“What a beautiful view,” Leslie murmured, nestling closer to Tom’s warmth. As she gazed out the window, there were a few colorful sails far out on the water. No clouds could be seen anywhere on the horizon. A jogger and her large dog ran past the property. “How you must love it here.”

Tom’s jovial mood changed as he glanced at the scene she was seeing. He encircled Leslie with his other arm and rested his chin on the top of her head. They sat that way in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. “Yes, I do love it. It’s almost perfect.”

“Almost?” she repeated incredulously, looking around his large, comfortable Cape Cod-style home. “What on earth is missing?”

Tom was looking just at her now. Not at the view. Not at his belongings. Just Leslie. “Just one thing. You,” he told her quietly.

Not expecting that, she pulled away a little to look up at his face. She could see that he meant it. She had hoped he would have forgotten what he had said in the past, that there might be somebody else by now. Somebody who she felt was “worthy” of him.

As his face neared hers she dropped her head. “You can’t mean that, Tom,” she told him as her heart pounded and her throat constricted, her years of low self-esteem pushing her backwards, away from this incredible man. “You need someone…someone wonderful and beautiful and talented. Like Cindy,” she offered in a choked voice. “Not me.”

Disgusted, Tom dropped his arms. Leslie always replied the same way. He hadn’t been able to convince her he was sincere. “Look at me,” he demanded, “and tell me truthfully—do you care for me at all?”

Leslie had slowly raised her face to look into his flashing eyes. He thought she would deny it and say she really didn’t care. But, instead, she answered in a level voice, “I care very, very much.”

“Then why do you refuse me? Don’t you feel you could come to love me?”

Leslie hadn’t averted her face like she usually did. “I already do.”

Tom shook his head, his own heart rapidly beating. “Then, why? Why won’t you move down here and be with me?”

“I’m not the same type of person you’re used to. I’m an outsider. How could I ever fit in your world?” she asked as her eyes filled with tears—tears that dissipated as fast as they formed.
I couldn’t even fit into the world of someone I went through school with….

“What? That’s the most absurd thing I have ever heard. There is no such thing as an outsider! There are no types! You already fit in my world. You fit in Avery’s world, too. My word, Leslie, you just set him on his ear and controlled a studio head! You’re now a professional writer and in two months your name will appear on the credits of a television show. What do you think it takes to ‘fit in’, as you insist?”

She got up from the couch and nervously went to the window. “What I did today was all show and you know it! That wasn’t me. I was doing what I felt I had to do. I’m not like that.”

“Leslie, I became interested in you long before you ever met Avery.” Tom came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “You impressed me at the convention, and even more as we enjoyed dinner together afterwards, and you
still
impress me.” His arms went around her waist and she leaned back into him. He gave a sigh and a disparaging laugh. “I never thought I’d have to argue with someone to convince her how much I love her. Listen, Leslie. You’ll be here at least a week. Think about what I said. I’m not going to give up yet,” he told her, moving away and taking her bags into the extra bedroom.

Still silent, still looking out of the window, a lone tear fell down Leslie’s cheek. Tom would never know how her self-imposed exile was breaking her heart.

T
he second day was another full and exciting day for Leslie. All of the people involved with the show, including Tina Rowan who would play Jane, met for a round-table discussion and reading of the new script. Tina did a wonderful Scottish brogue and seemed to fit right in with the regulars.

Tina was two inches taller than Leslie and had slightly more prominent cheekbones than Leslie’s fuller face. She, too, had short brown hair and blue eyes and a cheerful smile that revealed her warm personality.

The script reading took nearly four hours as there was much discussion, laughter and clowning around, plus a few more changes from the regular stars. Leslie was quiet through most of this session other than answering questions about the characters or demonstrating what she meant to convey. She enjoyed this time and could tell her script was getting everyone’s approval.

After the changes received the final approval, the script was read again and timed. Leslie was surprised at the complete difference in attitude. The actors became the professionals they were and there was no joking.

At one point, Leslie leaned back, closed her eyes and smiled. It was coming true for her. The familiar voices of the actors reading her lines! She could picture them in costume and on the set just as she had done when she first wrote the words she was hearing. It was a special moment for her. The only dark spot was hearing Tina’s voice. Leslie had always injected her own voice in Jane’s role and it was a little bit of a let-down for her. Somehow, some way, she had always wanted to do the part herself. Now realizing she must let go of that unreasonable fantasy, it was a poignant moment for her.

Right then and there, her eyes still closed as she listened, Leslie came to a decision. After the first dress rehearsal she would go home to Amherst. She wasn’t needed here. She was only being mollified because of the special concessions in her contract. They were following her script and her wishes. The show would be done as she intended. There was no reason to stay longer.

If she did capitulate and stay longer, she felt she would give in to Tom. As much as she had come to love him, she still felt, deep down, that he would be better off without her. It had been mentally beaten into her. She couldn’t convince herself that someone as special and wonderful as Tom could be happy with her. Perhaps with time and distance away from her he would realize that, too.

Looking across the table as the reading continued, Leslie received a pang in her heart as she looked at Tom who was busy with his lines. In just a few days she would never see him face to face again. She would see him on the television and she would see his face as she continued her writing. But she would never feel his arms around her or the touch of his lips on hers. She fought down the lump in her throat and concentrated on the reading.

F
riday night a stunned Tom Young answered his doorbell. Phillip Beck stood on the porch holding a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine. Phillip was silently gestured to enter and the door clicked shut behind him.

Phillip glanced around as he followed the silent Tom into the living room. He seemed to be alone.

Taking the offered chair, Phillip set the neglected wine and flowers on the floor next to him. He was puzzled by Tom’s face. He didn’t quite know how to read it. He cleared his throat to begin speaking as Tom was now gazing out of the window at the darkness outside. “I…uh…heard the filming had started for the new season,” he ventured. “Which storyline are you using?”

Tom turned at the query and looked confused. “I thought you knew. We are using Leslie’s first novel. We had the first dress rehearsal today.”

Phillip smiled broadly at the news. “Good! So Richard saw the value of the idea, did he? Great! I was hoping he would. Did Bunny get what she wanted?” Phillip’s smile faded as Tom stared at him. He didn’t know if he would get answered or not.

“Oh, the integrity of her books was what Leslie insisted on all the way. That seemed to be all she cared about,” was the bitter reply.

Phillip became uncomfortable. “Well, I am sure that pleased her. Is she still in town? Where is she staying? I wanted to congratulate Bun…Leslie on her success. I look forward to working with her on WESTWARD REX.”

Tom gave a dry laugh. “Well, old man, I’m afraid you will be disappointed. Bunny won’t be back to work on her episodes. She made that announcement today.”

“Really?” Phillip was quite surprised. “That was one of her unusual stipulations, as I understood from the papers.”

“Really.” Tom continued in a mocking tone, “She said she felt satisfied in the way her work was handled and there was no need for her to hang around and be in everyone’s way. Nickles, of course, was delighted to hear her little announcement. Whenever there was a question in dialogue, Leslie was asked, not Ron.”

Phillip smiled at that. He could picture the look on Ron’s face when that happened. But he knew there was more involved here. Tom seemed too upset to fit the mentioned circumstances. Phillip had already swallowed his own disappointment at missing Bunny again, and now his curiosity was aroused.

He didn’t have to ask as Tom suddenly sprang from his chair and started pacing the floor. “I don’t understand it, Phil,” he started. “What did I do wrong? What did she expect from me?”

Having no idea what he was talking about, Phillip prodded, “What happened, Thomas?”

“What happened? Nothing! I pour out my heart and offer all I have and nothing happened! I finally meet someone with th e very thing I was searching for. I can’t even describe what it is, but Les has it. And I know she felt the same. I know she did,” he exclaimed, flinging his arms as he continued pacing. “After the night we spent together in the Silicon Valley and the trip to New York and the time here together—Zip! Nada. She walked out on me.”

Phillip felt himself bothered by these personal references of Tom’s, but put that feeling aside for now. This was too interesting. “She must have given you some explanation, Thomas. From what I know she wouldn’t be the type to leave without a word.”

“Oh, she talked. Plenty. Some crap about her not being good enough and some time apart would do us both good. She said I would realize she was right. I’m not to contact her. Can you believe that?” Tom raved, shaking his head at the memory. “I can’t call or write or go see her. Dang it, Phil. I asked her to marry me, not gun down the eastern seaboard!” Spent, Tom threw himself onto the sofa and glared at his friend and co-worker who had simply come to visit.

Phillip was at a loss. He was going through conflicting emotions of his own. He still considered Bunny
his
special fan, and this revelation from Tom was now bothering him a little. Secretly he was pleased at Bunny’s response, but he was still sorry for Tom. He, too, well knew the pang of lost love. He also failed to see what he could say to help. These things usually took time. He tried, “Well, maybe things will work out. She probably had a lot on her mind this week and couldn’t deal with it all. Give yourself some time, Thomas. I’ve found that helps.” He looked away sadly before he continued. “After a while you get used to the hole in your heart and it doesn’t bother you so much any more. It might not go away, but it’s not so sharp,” he finished with a quiet voice.

Tom looked over at Phillip again, his anger dissipating. He had forgotten in his own problems that Phillip had many of his own. He too had read about Sarah’s pregnancy and now remembered that she—and his son—would be gone for a long time to come, if not forever. “Hey, Phillip,” he sighed, “I’m sorry. I go on and on and forget to play host. Can I get you a drink or something?” he offered with an apologetic smile.

Phillip reached down for the wine and showed him the bottle. “Not really. I’m not in a celebrating mood either. You can save this for another time.”

As Phillip stood to leave, Tom arose from the couch and grinned. “Nothing like coming over here for a relaxing evening, huh, Phil?” he kidded. He then remembered some news for the other actor, not remembering that Phillip had just mentioned it himself. “Oh, we will be doing your Western in about another month or so. Les will be doing that script next. Did you see the book?” he asked with a flash of pride overshadowing the hurt in his eyes.

Phillip nodded. “I went out and bought it when she didn’t send one. I compared it with that small manuscript she sent before. It’s very good. It’ll make a good episode.”

“Wait’ll you see this one. I don’t think Leslie ever realized what she had done. She certainly didn’t believe me,” Tom quietly remarked.

“I’ll probably see you next on the set, then. I’m finishing up a movie next week. Take care, Thomas.”

“Thanks for coming,” as the door closed and Phillip was once again on the doorstep thwarted in his efforts to meet Bunny.

“
D
ear Leslie,

I wanted to congratulate you on your success both with your novels and with the television series. Not many authors have made a name for themselves so quickly. I have been told by a few others how fine a job you did with your first script. I look forward to seeing the finished show and also appearing in the Western next month.

I bought a copy of the second book and have already read it. You did a good job expanding the short version I had seen before. I liked the extra interactions between Rex and Jane. It gives another dimension to the character of the Professor that will be an asset to the show.

I realize you must be overwhelmed at this time with your next script. I just finished another movie myself. It was a wonderful costume drama set during the Revolutionary War. But I still wanted to take a couple of minutes to say hello and congratulations. Have you submitted CHAETAU REX for publication yet? I am eager to read that episode as well.

I wish you continued success and if you need any help, just let me know.

Sincerely,

Phillip Beck”