Chapter 5: A Night Relived - May 1995

The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again.
Charles Dickens

May 1995

Johnny Andersen was just hanging out at the upscale apartment of his best friend Darryl Sanders. Johnny often worked as Darryl's assistant on larger photo shoots and did smaller jobs like weddings for a living. Johnny was a perfectly competent and dependable photographer. He just lacked the special talent and artistic ability that put Darryl at the top of the field. But that didn't keep them from being inseparable buds.

Johnny spotted the Coliseum ticket envelope. "I see you got a ticket for the Courtney Archer concert Friday, figured you would, despite all your waffling."

"I don't know, I still sometimes think it's dumb for me to go. It'll be hard to see her in the flesh and know that she might as well still be miles away. If I don't go, you want my ticket?"

"Only if you have two. Janie is really hot to go but the tickets are totally sold out. If she thought you had an extra ticket she'd drop me like a dirty sock and you'd be the new love of her life."

"Like I need a love of my life. Actually, I do have two tickets, at one point I was considering bringing a date, major bad idea! Let's do both of us a favor, let's not mention it to Janie."

Just then the door bell rang and Darryl answered it. It was a FedEx delivery which required his personal signature. The package itself was small and light.

"I wonder if this has to with the Cavanaugh job this weekend."

"You learn anything more about that job?"

"Not really, pack for three days, bring a camera, they'll pick me up, they'll supply everything else, outdoor fashion, but that's all I know."

"Isn't that odd?"

"A little, but some clients are really into secrecy, you'd be amazed what fashion houses will do to steal each other's line. And hey, they've prepaid three days full rate, check's already cleared the bank so they own this boy for three days. I have to leave right after the concert, bound for points unknown."

"Well maybe not unknown anymore, open your package."

Darryl tore open the FedEx package inside was a CD and an envelope. Darryl opened the envelope and read the note. He got a stunned look on his face and the note drifted out of his hand to settle on the table top. After a moment, he picked the note up again and reread it and then he just stared like he was a million miles away.

Johnny couldn't stand it any more. "Darryl, you OK man? You're weirding me out here."

Darryl just picked up the Coliseum tickets and handed them to Johnny "Go ahead and call Janie, I won't need these." Then he took the CD from the case and headed for the living room as though Johnny were no longer there.

Johnny figured he could call Janie later, he had to see what had been delivered in that package. He picked up the envelope, inside was a tasteful note card embossed with the name Courtney Archer, on it was hand written "Please come, I want to see you, I miss you terribly, Courtney."

The envelope also contained a VIP Pass, signed by Courtney, her business manager and her chief of security. He picked up the CD case, it looked just like a regular commercial CD that you might buy in any store except he was dating a Courtney fan and he was sure there was no such album. The picture on the front looked a lot like Missing You except it was a slightly different lake and there was no one in the picture. The title was Song of Thanks and the only song listed had the same name. He could hear the song playing on the stereo. It was lovely, and it was definitely her voice but he was sure he had never heard it before. Johnny remembered that he had a friend on the music faculty at the University who was a huge Courtney fan and had actually written a paper about the poetry in her lyrics. He picked up the phone. "Bob it's Johnny, listen a friend of mine...

Yeah it's Darryl but it's not like I don't have other friends...

Well Janie's a girl. Anyway listen he just got a Courtney Archer CD called Song of Thanks...

Bob, I know there's no such CD, would I call you if it was a CD you could get at Wal-Mart? Anyway it's got cover art, liner notes, everything, but only one song...

The song has the same name as the album, Song of Thanks...

Yes, I've never heard of it either but it's on the stereo now, I'll hold the phone up and let you hear a few bars"

"You've given me wings

And special things,

That's what your love brings,

Thanks to you."...

"Oh yea, I agree, it's her alright...

Where did he get it? That's the coolest part. She sent it to him...

I know because it came with a card on her embossed stationery in her hand...

No, I'm not going to read it to you, it's personal...

They used to be sweethearts going back to eight years old, but Bob, you ever leak that to the press and our friendship's over...

I know you've never screwed me over but this stuff would be worth money, speaking of which, hypothetically speaking what might an unpublished Courtney song be worth...

No shit! as much as $50,000 maybe more? Hey Thanks Bob, I owe you."

Johnny hung up the phone and ran into the living room. "Hey Darryl, I got this professor friend in music at the University, he says that little CD you're playing may be worth over 50 grand, you belie..." Johnny realized he might as well be shouting at the refrigerator. Darryl was sitting perfectly still, mesmerized by the voice coming from the stereo. His eyes were focused somewhere well outside the four walls of the room. A slow but steady flow of tears welled up in each eye and dripped unheeded to his cheek, where they formed a tiny creek that was moistening his shirt. Johnny whispered, "Darryl, I don't know where you are but you're not here." then he quietly left and went to tell Janie the good news.

The Concert

Darryl rode with Johnny and Janie to the concert. It was Janie's idea. Darryl suspected that she hoped some of the VIP pass status would rub off on anyone accompanying the holder. Unfortunately, she was sorely disappointed because while the pass certainly rolled out the red carpet for Darryl, it apparently had no coattails on which anyone could ride. As soon as he identified himself, he was whisked away to a reception area where he was given a seat and offered a glass of wine. Within a few minutes, a friendly, distinctly Germanic looking young man walked up with an athletic stride.

"Mr. Sanders, it is a great pleasure to meet you, I'm Karl Jager, Courtney's chief of security and a personal friend. I'll be responsible for escorting you around. I have this note for you.

He handed Darryl a note on the same stationary as had come with the CD. In Courtney's neat hand it said, "Darryl, Thank you so much for coming. Please go with Karl, he has made all the arrangements. Indulge me by not asking too many questions. I have a few surprises planned. I can't wait to see you. Courtney."

"I'm a little confused, all this talk about arrangements. I thought I'd just be meeting Courtney backstage after the concert."

Karl laughed. "Have you ever been backstage?" It's the Keystone Cops go to the zoo, I don't even like to go there. And have you ever seen a singer after a two hour live show? They're a rag doll with PMS, even a sweetheart like Courtney. Is this how you should have a reunion ten years overdue? I don't think so. No, I'll run you home after the concert to grab a suitcase and..."

"Oh God I am cursed," cried Darryl. "I would love to go with you. It sounds wonderful. You don't know how wonderful. But I can't go. I've already accepted a freelance assignment."

"Karl laughed and put a reassuring arm around his shoulder. " Ah yes, the somewhat mysterious Cavanaugh job. Well, that was our next stop anyway. Come on, I'll introduce you to your assignment."

Darryl was escorted into the main hall through an entrance behind the stage. Darryl was fascinated by the legion of technicians scrambling around adjusting and testing, lights, sound and video. He was beginning to get some idea how different this was from the young girl sitting on a dock with a guitar singing to him. And yet somewhere at the heart of it all, this legion of worker ants were depending on that same set of vocal cords.

Karl brought him around to the VIP seats directly in front of the stage. Even the seats here were of far better quality than the general seating. An attractive and extremely sharp looking lady rose and extended her hand. "Hello Darryl Sanders, at last, I'm Jaclyn Cavanaugh, Courtney's manager, confidante and best friend. And if I am not mistaken, I own you for the next three days. I rather like that, I'm not sure I've ever owned a man before, but Courtney's undoubtedly going to want to borrow you."

It was said with charming good humor but Darryl sized her up immediately as an extremely shrewd and aggressive businesswoman. He would not like to be actually be owned by her. But he was beginning to understand Courtney's unprecedented rapid climb through the competitive music world. "So the assignment is a sham, just a ploy to get me and Courtney together, not that I mind. I've waited ten years."

"Oh no Darryl, I hope you don't mind if I call you Darryl. I've lived with Courtney a long time now and it would be impossible for me to call you anything else."

"Please, it's Darryl, I insist."

"Then Jaclyn please, but where was I, No it is not a sham. As Courtney's friend I had to make sure your time was free long enough so that if things work out like we all hope, you guys can have some time together. I'm sure you thought you would meet backstage? Yes? Well that proves you've never been there. Otherwise you would realize that there couldn't be a worse environment in which to try to pick up the string of a relationship broken a decade ago. But I'm also her business manager and I expect to talk and conduct some business with you as well. See, I'm not just her pimp. So be sure to bring your camera with you."

"Any clue about the nature of the business."

"Oh yes Darryl, you'll find I am quite clear about what I expect from any business relationship. We'll talk tonight and later. But now it's time for the concert. People find it surprising, but I'm her biggest fan. I'm right here every concert and everyone knows not to disturb me unless it's a real emergency. I'm here like you, to enjoy the music."

Darryl was right, seeing her live a few feet away was very different from seeing her on a glowing electronic box. Now little mannerisms and familiar gestures breathed life back into her image and increased his longing. And all of the electronics failed to remove the magic from her voice that entered your heart and made it hers. He realized that his original idea of coming to the concert to say goodbye would have been as hopelessly doomed as every other attempt to separate her from his life.

On the last song before intermission, Jaclyn leaned over. "Sit up straight and smile, this is for you."

Daryll had no idea what she was talking about but he followed her directions. A few seconds later he saw it, a change in lighting. Most of the audience probably never noticed since the color and pattern of lights were choreographed with the music and were constantly changing. But part of Darryl's fame was based on his mastery of lighting. To his expert eye this one change stuck out as a manual shift outside of the normal flow. The footlights, the lights from below the stage whose glare normally make it impossible for performers to make out faces in the audience, suddenly dimmed out. They dimmed out precisely at a time when the house levels, the lights on the audience, were relatively high. He saw Courtney's eyes searching and immediately locking on his. The corners of her mouth curled in a slight, almost imperceptible smile and ten years of loneliness and a lifetime of hope passed between two sets of eyes in the few seconds before the lights came back up.

Darryl sat there feeling drained. Jaclyn next to him breathed a sigh of relief.

At intermission Darryl looked at Jaclyn. "You want to explain that huge sigh of relief back there?"

"Well, we know she's a trooper now, I hardly heard it in her voice at all."

"Heard what?"

"Darryl, I'm a woman, and her closest friend. Do you think I don't know the look that went between your eyes and hers in those few seconds and what it was doing to her. It's the biggest chance I've ever let her take with her career. And I don't like taking chances."

"What chance? What could have happened?"

"Well, let's see, I called a secret staff meeting when she first asked for this. Opinions included, burst out crying, run off stage into your arms, faint, stop in middle of the song; trust me when I say I was in a minority when I said she'd sing through it like the pro she is. And I was sounding more confident than I felt."

"Why'd you OK it then?"

"Because she was demanding this or recognizing you publicly from the stage by name."

"Would that be so bad?"

"For her no, not so bad. For you it would mean waking up tomorrow with 150 paparazzi parked on your lawn, photographing you taking a dump in the morning from helicopters. Interviewing every girl you ever dated. Sound appealing?"

"God no! But wait, why not so bad for her?"

"You are so deliciously innocent. She already has an army of paparazzi following her around. That's why she has Karl and his crew to give her a life and to protect that life from the nut cases."

"Hadn't you better get Karl to check me out?"

"He already has, thoroughly, you're OK or you wouldn't be here."

"Thank you and Karl very much."

"Look, if that was meant sarcastically, I make no apology."

"Jaclyn, I want no apology, I'll admit that I'm a little surprised and maybe even a little annoyed to find that you've investigated me but on the other hand, I'm glad she has good people to take care of her."

As long as you think we are doing our jobs, I'm going to ask for your help. You will make our jobs a lot easier and life a little better for Courtney if you are willing to miss the second half and head out now. She said to tell you she will personally sing you every song you miss."

"Then how can I refuse, let's go. I do need to tell my ride."

"Karl has already warned Johnny and Janie. Some nice autographed CDs inscribed 'to my friend Janie' seem to have brightened her evening."

"I'll bet they did."

Mysterious Journey

Karl whisked us out the side to a waiting car with heavily tinted windows. Fifty yards away I saw a limousine surrounded by photographers. Karl winked. We ran by my apartment. I noted I did not have to give directions. Since I was already packed it was a minute's stop and we were heading for the executive terminal at the airport. As we traveled Jaclyn pitched a proposition to me.

"Darryl, I have two goals in mind again. As Courtney's friend I want to help give you guys time to pick up the pieces, or decide if you want to. It's been ten years, that's not going to be a weekend job."

"I have to agree, I'm worried about that."

"Now switching to my business manager's hat, I have a problem. Courtney needs a full time personal photographer. It's got to be someone she trusts. It's got to be someone I trust. And given where she is right now, it's got to be someone well known and very good. I can pay top dollar and give you time to take enough other work to keep your name out there. I want a one year contract. We mutually negotiate at the end of the year. And it gives you two a year to sniff each others hineys or whatever one does after ten years."

"Jaclyn, I'm flattered but this is not my specialty. There are guys who do nothing but musical stars who would murder their grandmother for this job and at half my price."

"And the trouble is those hacks have been grinding out the same old formulaic crap and everybody's seen it. Look Darryl, I'm sure you've read enough to know we've made it this far by NOT doing it the same old way. I'm not looking for someone who can spit out what's in the stores today, I want shit that will turn the industry upside down."

"It's getting more interesting but the real issue is who's calling the shots. Who's got artistic control?"

"Well you realize you do have to work with Courtney, they are her songs, she wrote them, she sings them, she's got to have veto rights on what they're wrapped in?"

"Agreed but other than that, who designs and chooses the photos."

"You haven't been listening Darryl, I expect Y-O-U to stand the industry on it's tired old head. I don't see how I can expect Y-O-U to revolutionize a genre unless Y-O-U have artistic control. You design the shots, you take the shots, you choose the shots, I pay the bills."

"Who's the art director?"

"Easy, you can be art director, I'll get a canvas chair and stencil art director on it, but no more money."

"Jaclyn, this is crazy, no one gives the photographer artistic control."

"Why not, how often have lesser men in those positions just diluted your vision. I believe in getting the best talent available then get the hell out of their way. If you don't believe that's the way I work. When you see her, ask Courtney who chooses the songs for her albums."

"I will, speaking of which, when will I see her?"

The car had pulled up alongside a sleek unmarked executive jet. Karl came around and opened the door. Jaclyn leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"Soon Darryl, now aboard the plane will be one of Karl's assistants; he is under strict instructions to keep you in the dark about where you are and the schedule. Just play along, Courtney has earned a little fun, please don't spoil it for her. Now hurry on."

As Darryl walked to the plane's steps he watched the car do a quick turn and head back towards town. Another husky Germanic type grabbed his bags and took them aboard. Darryl noticed he left the camera bags for him, the sign of a pro. Professionals in any field know that other pros will prefer to handle their own gear. He grabbed his and climbed aboard. After the routine of bag stowage and seat belts, the plane started rolling immediately. The new attendant leaned forward. "Evening Mr. Sanders, I'm Kurt Janson, Karl's assistant. I'll be your completely uninformative tour guide for the rest of your journey."

"Please, call me Darryl, and are all of you ah..."

"Does Courtney have a private Gestapo? No, actually Karl and I are the only krauts, we grew up together in a Milwaukee neighborhood."

"And you won't give me a hint where we are going?"

"Of Courz, bu zenn I vill haft to keel yu."

"Jesus, that was an awful German accent, are you sure you're really German?"

"Yeah, but my family's been here since 1780 something, I learned my German watching Hogan's Heroes. Seriously, I have orders to answer no questions as to who what when or where. I am to assure you that this is Courtney's personal wish. Then she took me aside and said that if you were totally freaking out I could tell we're going but first I was to explain that she was afraid that to do so might cause her to have prom night syndrome. Then to ask you again if you needed to know where we are?"

"Kurt, if you even try to tell me I promise I will rip your vocal cords out with my bare hands and tie them around my ears like ear muffs."

Kurt laughed. "She told me you would say something pretty much like that. Rough prom night huh?"

"I'm still trying to get over it." Taking advantage of a trick he had learned on assignment, when there's nothing to do, store up energy. He put his seat back and was asleep in minutes, his dreams less troubled than they had been in years.

Kurt woke him to transfer to a limo with blacked out windows for another twenty minutes drive. When the limo stopped, he stepped directly from the car into the foyer of what appeared to be a grand estate house. The butler greeted him and escorted him to his room. It was actually a suite. The master bedroom had a king-size bed and a curtained wall at the opposite end. The sitting room had a home theater and an intimate dining area. The master bath had a garden size Jacuzzi. The butler asked if he required anything from the kitchen, there being a completely stocked minibar and refrigerator. Darryl declined and the butler excused himself.

Kurt announced, "There are a few rules here. The phone only connects to the kitchen. The TV and radio are disconnected tonight. Nice night to read or sleep. Do not open or peek through any blinds. I'll be outside your room all night in case you need anything or are inclined to sleepwalk. Do I need to go through that prom thing again?"

"No Kurt, this boy's taking a hot shower and turning in. You don't even need to sit outside my door. Wild horse couldn't drag me out of here if it meant jeopardizing my reunion with Courtney."

"Oh I believe you, but I'll be there anyway, too afraid of the boss to not follow orders."

"Yeah, Karl looks pretty tough."

"Karl? Karl's a pussy cat, Jaclyn's the one that scares me."

As good as his word Darryl took a nice long leisurely shower and went to bed. He had packed some pajama bottoms because you could never be sure of sleeping arrangements when on travel. But since he had this whole grand suite to himself he chose his favorite sleepwear, nothing. For awhile, Darryl lay in bed thinking about how strange it was really to allow himself to be flown to God knows where, by people he didn't know, in response to a note from someone he hadn't seen in ten years. But he had committed, and there was no turning back now. Somehow he didn't really feel uneasy. Working in some of the danger zones on assignments that his freelance work had taken him into had taught him that when you had no control over the situation, then there was no use worrying about it. Having decided that he lay back instead and dreamed about what he hoped might happen. And with the vision of her in his arms, he was soon sound asleep.

The Second Chance

Something woke Darryl, he wasn't sure if it was a sound, or a movement. He lay there, in that warm glow you feel when you've had a good night's sleep, but could go back to sleep if you wished. It felt like it was possibly very early morning. Yes, there it was, the drapes at the end of the room were opening. The mechanism was so slow and smooth he might have missed it had he not been looking right at it. At least he would find out where he was, or he would as soon as the sun came up a little more. From what he could see so far it was still too black outside to make out any details. But there was something else, a presence, like some one else in the room. Probably Kurt checking on him.

It wasn't Kurt. He never saw her approaching, she just appeared. After ten long desperate years the achingly familiar figure of Courtney stood silently beside the bed. In the thousand times he had dreamed of this moment, he had always had some thing romantic and clever to say. When the moment finally came, he lost the power of speech entirely. Courtney was equally silent. Too much talking was what ruined that night a decade ago. Tonight was reserved for the needs of the heart.

She untied the bow at the neck of her silk robe and let it slide off her shoulders. She was nude underneath. She stood there a moment to gauge his reaction. She felt good about how she looked, working out with a private trainer and practicing yoga regularly. Still, no one has the body of an eighteen year old except another eighteen year old. Apparently it didn't matter, it was easy to read the excitement and longing in Darryl's eyes. She raised the sheet and climbed in beside him, into his arms. They embraced and shared a shared a somewhat uncertain, but heartfelt kiss. Followed quickly by one that had shed much of the doubts, but none of the longings of the last ten years. It would be absurd to suggest that a single kiss could contain enough love and passion to bridge a decade and rejoin lovers so long apart, but it went a long way.

She broke the silence. "Darryl, do you remember the night of my prom?"

"Of course, I remember everything about that night."

"Do you remember when it was?"

"Ten years ago this month."

"Ten years ago this night!"

"Wow, what a coincidence that the concert...

... that wasn't a coincidence at all, was it? But how? But why?"

"No, no coincidence, Darryl. It's one of the benes of having four songs in the top twenty, coliseum managers don't say no. Why? that's a little harder." And you remember where?"

"Of course, the lake house." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew what he was going to see through that window. He turned and looked, the first rosy hues of the dawn sky were filling in the outline of the lake like a painter's brush. It wasn't just a similar lake, like on the CD cover, it was definitely "their" lake. His eyes misted. "But I thought the lake house was gone."

"It is Darryl, like the Kedricks," she said gently, "time takes things away that we can't get back. Like the last ten years without you. I built this house on the same site. According to the architects we are within ten feet of where we were that night."

"Courtney, you've gone to an awful lot of trouble and I love it all, but you know I would have been happy to be with you any time, anywhere."

"I know. But Darryl, my career has been very good to me. I have made money that I have had no time and no desire to spend. The one thing I have wanted desperately for ten years was a chance to redo that night with you. Now I'm not a child, I know that I can never do that. Being here on the tenth anniversary does not undo ten years of time, but think it will help me ease ten years of pain."

"I think I understand."

"I don't want to do a lot of talking right now, we have much to talk about, but later."

"I think that's best"

"I do have to ask you one question. Do you still care about me enough to want to give our love another chance?"

"Yes Courtney, I do, more than anything. I do not need to ask you that question. I knew the answer when I saw you standing by the bed."

"Then I want you to ask me one more question. After the prom, you asked me a question, without using words, that men have been asking women, every night, in every land, in every time as long as humans have been here. No man ever had better right to ask and yet I gave the wrong answer and have wished I could take it back ever since. It is the single greatest regret of my life. Give me a second chance Darryl, Please. Ask me again."

And suddenly he understood the reason behind the elaborate, almost theatrical, staging of this evening. She needed to, at least in her mind, correct a mistake that had haunted her for a decade. He pulled her to where he could look directly into her eyes. "Courtney, will you make love with me tonight?"

"Yes Darryl, I will, I will," She replied with a hint of a tear in her voice. And the time for talking had ended.

Most couples reunited after a decade apart would have relearn each other's techniques and preferences due to changes that had evolved through their other relationships. Courtney and Darryl had so few partners and such inconsequential relationships that beyond maturing a bit, they had not changed at all. Their roadmaps of each other were as reliable as if they had been apart ten days instead of years.

Their bodies flowed together as seamlessly as colored sand poured into a bottle. They bathed in a luxurious bath of once familiar, but long missed sensations: tactile skin to skin contact, scents, the feel of your lover's warm breath on your neck, the softness of her hair. Their lips joined again and soon they were breathing as one as tongue danced with tongue, and lips caressed lips. He cradled her head in two hands as his lips fluttered gently as a butterfly across her face to her eyes and ears and throat. He even stopped to just bury his face in her hair so he could inhale that special fragrance only a woman's hair has.

His lips weaved a trail like a happy drunk down her shoulders and across her upper chest. The happy drunk's ultimate destination was a poorly kept secret, especially since they comprised the highest points around with each marked by a distinctive pink summit which stuck out an additional 2/3 inch to mark the spot. And still our meandering friend was able to create a surprising amount of tension by pretending to wander on by, or around or anywhere but where she wanted him to go. This little game of hot/cold was directed by hisses, and gasps, and groans depending on how close the lips were to the nerve rich areola and nipple. And when she had been teased enough she entangled her fingers in his hair and gently but firmly directed his mouth to her nipple, to exactly where it had wanted to be all along.

The nipple, that handy little nerve central with direct connections to the brain and to the pussy. That little bump that unleashes in women feelings both maternal and sexual and in men feelings both infantile and Neanderthal. Time spent at a woman's nipple is possibly rewarded in heaven, and it is absolutely rewarded in the bedroom.