CHAPTER 103

The emails came fast and furious – at first. Connie hadn’t bothered to check her mail for two days and when she did, she found that her large mailbox was over half full. There were several messages from work detailing an emergency weekend meeting and several from her authors requiring gentle and supportive responses. Her work was piling up a bit and, in a way, that was a good thing for her right now. Her writing instructor had told her, and a few others, that they could mail in assignments if they had a problem getting to all of the classes. Most of the night class students worked full time and many had families. She was the only one she knew of who might have to miss classes because they were flying all over the country but the advantage still applied to her. Connie wondered if she could mail in her assignments if she moved back to New York….

Connie was hurting but she knew that Kevin was hurting, too. Her email box was crammed with messages from him – messages that, two days after her return, she hadn’t summoned the courage to read. Brian’s words looped through her memory, even in her dreams, but his points and her fears continued to battle each other. By Thursday, emails from Brian had begun to creep into her box, as well.

Finally, on Thursday night, she sat down at the computer with a bottle of Reisling and a large goblet. Connie brought up her email and fortified herself as she stared at her in-box, trying to decide whose mail to read first. She finally opened Kevin’s earliest message and began. The wine wasn’t helping much, which was unfortunate. Usually, she was a cheap drunk but not tonight. Her eyes had filled before she finished his first paragraph which began with a recap of their last ‘discussion’ and ended with his ‘oh so rational’ understanding of her personal and emotional dilemma. He realized that she needed time. He hoped that she could get past her fear and hurt. He apologized. He apologized… He’s sorry for feelings that he had no control over… He’s beating himself up… Kevin never mentioned the show, the business or the other Boys. Connie noted that the first message had been sent Monday night, at about the same time Brian had been sitting in Kevin’s kitchen.

The next note was dated the following morning. This one was slightly more distant. He didn’t come out and speak directly about their current personal situation but instead, asked if she was all right in a dozen different ways. Had there been any thunderstorms? Was the class going all right? Did she have a lot of work to catch up on? - and so on. He only came close to the crux of the matter when he asked if she had gotten any more letters and if she had received his email. He closed his message by expressing his hope that he would see her on Sunday afternoon. Connie could tell he had been very careful with his wording – undemanding and fairly light. That, however, didn’t last.

Kevin had sent messages on Tuesday night and Wednesday morning asking if she had confirmed her flight reservation, if she had enough money and if everything was okay ‘at home’. By Thursday his email consisted of one or two liners – Why won’t you write me? - followed by contriteness because he was ‘pushing’. He ended his last note by saying that he was ‘assuming that no news was good news’ and that he would see her at the Beverly on Sunday afternoon.

The notes from Brian were sympathetic but edgy. For the most part, he expressed the hope that she was okay but made it a point to say that Kevin was not. Connie also received a scolding for not getting in touch with him. Brian’s admonitions, on top of Kevin’s plaintive mailings, gave birth to a guilt that Connie had trouble reconciling and she began to grow more confused, angry and hurt. Why should she feel guilty? Kevin had kept hidden a part of himself that affected her profoundly and yet, she was expected to make a life altering decision in a matter of days? She failed to admit that time wouldn’t make her decision any easier. She’d been hurt so many times before and had blamed herself, owing to her obviously poor judgement in matters of character. Kevin wasn’t a bad man but she had to be practical. It hurt like hell but she should have known. Flying by her heart is what had caused her problems in the past. She had fought hard to become independent only to slide back into the same self-destructive pattern.

It wasn’t just Kevin’s history of bisexual liasons. It was the whole show business thing – the fact that she would never be what he needed. Sound was Kevin’s life and she couldn’t share that. Friends and colleagues had warned her. Even Leighanne had scoffed that her and Kevin’s relationship. She had seen his impatience at times. The label didn’t like it. They already had so much going against them that this latest revelation just tipped the scale.

Connie logged onto the internet Thursday night and made a reservation for a flight to New York the following morning. She also cancelled her flight from Orlando to LA – but not because she was leaving Orlando the next day. After days of tears and soul searching, she had come to the logical conclusion that she shouldn’t fly to LA at all. She would gather her things from Florida after her weekend meetings. There really wasn’t that much. She would write Kevin on Sunday. Hopefully, her mind would be clearer then and she could make him understand that being apart would be for the best. She had to make herself believe it first….

*****

Kevin didn’t just glance at the clock. He stared at it as if intense focus and concentration could push back the hands to an earlier hour. He had been ready and waiting for Connie’s arrival. Fresh flowers had been delivered at his request, as well as wine and candles. Kevin had been counting on a celebration. Even if things weren’t resolved between them, just the fact that she would meet him in Los Angeles as they had planned, would be a sure sign that they both wanted the same thing. If he could be sure of that, then he just knew that they could get past this major roadblock. Her plane was due to arrive at 1:00 pm. It would have been four o’ clock in New York. It was now 3:30 in LA and there was no sign of her.

Kevin had been checking his mail every hour but – nothing. At two, he had called the airport to confirm the flight’s arrival, secretly hoping that there had been a delay. Delta flight 447 had arrived on schedule at LAX. Hoping against hope that she had gotten caught up in traffic or had had some sort of luggage problem, he argued with the customer service reps and after being transferred four times, was finally told that no one by the name of Constance K. O’Rourke was named on the passenger list – that, in fact – she had cancelled her reservation. She wasn’t coming….. Kevin called room-service and ordered a bottle of their best tequila.

He hadn’t given in to the temptation until now. Oh, he had wanted to but had forced himself to remain strong and confident. He didn’t downplay the facts but, Christ, they had been through so much… This was no small matter but couples got through this. He would do anything – even go to counseling, if he had to. Now it appeared that he wouldn’t have to. He wouldn’t have to do anything. That was good because he couldn’t do anything. They had four more shows to do, all in California and the tour would be over but thankfully, there was no show tonight. That was one of the reasons Connie was coming back today. They would have the evening alone. Now he would have the evening alone. The idea of drinking himself into oblivion sounded very appealing.

*****

“You okay?” Steven asked when Connie handed him her report on the status of her authors. “Sorry the meeting went so long. You didn’t say anything, so I’m assuming your flight to LA isn’t until later tonight.”

Connie shuffled through a small stack of messages. Hannah had called her several times. Steven’s new secretary, Tara, had handed them to her with widened eyes and overt curiosity. It seems that Hanna had told her to tell Connie that Nick Carter had told Hannah that Connie was in New York for the weekend and Hannah was miffed that Connie hadn’t contacted her. The conversation with Tara sounded like it had been scripted from a fan magazine.

“Um… Gee, Miss O’Rourke…”

“Please call me Connie…”

“Is that Nick Carter the Backstreet Boy? I mean I know it’s none of my business and all but I’ve been here a while and I know that you’re Kevin Richardson’s girlfriend and all and I was just wondering if that was ‘the’ Nick, you know?”

Connie forced a polite smile. “Yes, Tara. ‘The’ Nick Carter…”

“Oh my God! Oh my dear God!” Tara had gone absolutely pale and had been forced to sit down. Connie wondered if she would have to get a paper bag for her to breathe into. “God, I just loooove that man! I even have posters of him in my bedroom…”

Connie seemed to be staring into space and Steven had to reach out and touch her shoulder in order to get her attention.

“Connie? Do you have a later flight?”

Connie stared at Steven for a minute as if she didn’t understand the question. “Oh..uh…no,” she stammered “I’m not going..”

“Not tonight, you mean?”

“Not at all…”

Steven waited for Connie to explain but it was soon evident that she wasn’t in the mood to illuminate her cryptic response. Still, Steven pushed a little.

“Does this have anything to do with Trevor?”

His question surprised Connie and confused her. Trevor? Why would by not flying to LA have anything to do with him? I don’t even think about him…

“Why would you think that?” she asked tersely. “I have no contact with him and I don’t want to!”

“Sorry!” Steven replied, holding up his hands and backing away. “He’s called a few times, that’s all. Usually it’s for some bullshit reason or he says he was connected to me by mistake – that he was trying to reach Regina in personnel. I think they’ve been seeing each other… But he always asks about you. Wants to know how you’re doing and shit…”

“Well, if he calls again, you tell him I’m just peachy!” Connie hissed.

“Okaaay…”

There was definitely some tension in the room now. The space between them was almost crackling. Steven cleared his throat.

“Well, I was going to ask you if you’d accompany Michael James to the airport since I thought you were going anyway. LaGuardia makes him really nervous. In fact I think New York makes him nervous.” Steven paused, hoping his small attempt at humor would raise the comfort level. It didn’t. “Anyway, since you’re not flying out, I’ll just…..”

“I’ll go with him,” Connie frowned. “Why not? I don’t have anything better to do and I don’t really want to go home anyway. Besides, I can make a reservation to fly back to Florida. When is his flight?”

“Around 5:30, I think. I’ll call for a car.”

Chapter 104

About halfway through the bottle, Kevin came to the conclusion that shots were just slowing him down and took to swallowing the golden fire directly from its glass container. He had run out of excuses and ‘maybes’ – even desperate ones like ‘maybe her computer is on the fritz’, ‘maybe she had an emergency’, ‘maybe she was embarrassed to ask someone to call me’ and even ‘maybe she’s sick’….

He had managed to go through the motions all week. His performances were adequate, his interviews acceptable – nothing more. Critics and fans barely seemed to notice and when they did, his lack of enthusiasm was blamed on weariness or imagined infighting. The other Boys gave him his space for the most part, with the exception of Brian who checked on him often. Hindsight had become Kevin’s new hobby and he spent hours trying to determine what might have happened if things had unfolded differently. The bottom line, however, was that they didn’t. He knew that Connie was shocked. He knew that she was afraid. He knew that she had grave doubts about their relationship. Kevin understood these things and, to be fair, he might have had similar feelings if the situation had been reversed. What crushed him was thinking that she might be disgusted.

His eyes drifted to the second drawer of the country-French bureau against the far wall. That’s where Connie’s clothes would have gone. A corner of his mouth rose when he recalled their head-butting over hotel drawer preferences. The first time they had stayed in a hotel, he had started to put his things into the top drawer and Connie balked. She wanted the top drawer and Kevin protested. Their petty disagreement evolved into a good-natured argument when Connie pouted and questioned his ’gentlemanliness’. Kevin argued that he was taller and it was logical that he should have the top drawer. ‘And besides,’ he said, “I like to watch you bend over…and the more you bend, the better I like it…’ Connie had feigned indignation, turned her back to him, hiked up her skirt and mooned him. ‘Like that?’ she asked. ‘Yeah, baby. Like that….’

With some difficulty and a definite lack of grace, Kevin pulled himself up to a sitting position and took another swig out of the bottle. He could barely taste the tequila now. It took several seconds for him to stand and when he did, he wobbled. After taking a breath, he regained some sense of balance and shuffled over to the bureau, pulling open the second drawer. The drawer was not empty. Kevin had managed to do a little shopping alone when he and Connie were in New York.

The day after….after he had….bound….her – the day that Nick and Hanna had walked into Connie’s apartment and he’d been forced to cover his manhood with a potted plant – he had gone shopping. One of his purchases had been a cream colored silk nightgown – very simple with a low-cut, slightly draped bodice that fell to the floor with a tiny flare. One side was slit to the hip for ease of movement and for showing lots of leg. Kevin had imagined how her hardened nipples would look pressed against the underside of the silk. The gown was simple and sophisticated and extremely sexy. He had passed on the matching panties.

Kevin had put something else in the drawer, too. His plan was for Connie to unpack her things, open the drawer and find his surprises. The second surprise had been more complicated and was the result of an almost forgotten memory – a snippet of conversation he had heard between Connie and Leighanne in Clearwater so many months ago. ”I might have to get another three-ring binder….I already decorated the one I bought and messed it up. You know – big hearts all over it with ‘Connie + Kevin’ written inside and ‘Connie Richardson’, Constance Kendall O’Rourke Richardson’ and my favorite – ‘Mrs. Kevin Scott Richardson’….

He had purchased notebook paper, dividers and plastic, zippered pencil holder to go inside of the hard to find canvas binder and when these ‘supplies’ were securely snapped inside, he had decorated the outside, using a black magic marker. Their names were surrounded by hearts and Kevin had scrawled ‘Mrs. Kevin Scott Richardson’ across the cover in longhand as well as ‘Connie Richardson’. He’d even managed to find Backstreet Boys stickers at CVS that he plastered between the hearts and signatures. Kevin had been quite pleased when he was finished and thought that it would make a funny and personal little ‘going back to school’ gift for Connie.

There was a little more to it than that, however. Kevin opened up the binder to look at the pencil case inside. In addition to two #2 pencils, a small sharpener, a pen and a six inch ruler was a 4.6 carat, oval cut diamond with trilliant canary baguettes on each side, set in platinum. A hundred times, he had imagined Connie laughing at his ‘gift’ and then opening the binder to view its contents only to be blindsided by an engagement ring and forthcoming proposal of marriage.

But that was….before. Kevin closed the binder, placed it back next to the silk gown and slowly closed the drawer. A reflection from the bottle of tequila got his attention from where he had set it on top of the bureau. After one more gulp, he dropped the bottle onto the floor, stripped, stumbled towards the bed where he passed out atop wrinkled sheets.

*****

Michael James was getting on her nerves. Badly. She had agreed to accompany him to LaGuardia but Connie hadn’t realized that she was supposed to be a one-woman entertainment committee. Couldn’t he tell that she wasn’t in the mood for conversation? Michael knew that Connie was deaf and she had tried to use that to her advantage in this particular circumstance by avoiding eye contact and staring out of the window. Unfortunately, Michael was not one to be ignored, and so whenever he decided to make any kind of comment – which was about every ten seconds, he prefaced it by jabbing Connie’s arm with his finely manicured finger.

Maybe it was just as well. Whenever Connie tried to place her attention elsewhere, her eyes inevitably fell upon ‘couples’. Boys and girls, men and women, affectionate and obviously in love, seemed to populate the scenery like a Moonie wedding photograph. She felt like she was in hell.

Three days ago, Connie had decided that she needed to ‘grow up’ – that logic and practicality were traits to be nurtured. Blissful highs eventually created belly-crawling lows. Connie had hit bottom a week ago and finally determined that a nice middle ground was the safest place to be. No euphoria, no despair. The only way she knew to get there was through moderation and her new friend, Logic. Her good sense told her that she had made the right decision regarding Kevin. Her heart, however, cursed her cowardliness and made her feel ashamed. Logic might be good but it was a cold and dull companion.

Michael had pleaded with Connie to come with him to the gate. Apparently, he had some deep seeded fear of getting lost in the huge airport and missing his flight. Reluctantly, Connie had agreed. It’s not like she had any plans anyway, so the driver pulled over and Connie and Michael entered LaGuardia and headed for the United gates. Fifteen minutes later, she had deposited her charge and begun to make her way back to the terminal entrance.

The airport was bustling tonight with weekenders on their way back home, kids going back to school and commuters getting a head start to work. The bottleneck at the escalator caused a slight delay and Connie stood silently, waiting her turn to climb onto the moving stairway. It was one of those odd situations that she encountered every so often - surrounded by crowds of people, almost all of them talking, some yelling over the broadcast of public announcements and yet, because of her deafness, there was no distraction, even in this frenzied atmosphere. Right now, though, Connie would have welcomed distraction. In the past week, her emotions had played havoc on her soul. She had traveled the road from happiness and contentment to shock, fear and devastation to indecision and despair. Even when she had resolved her indecision, the despair had remained and now threads of guilt had begun to wind their way into her psyche.

When she reached the lower floor, Connie stopped for a moment to catch her breath and try to calm her heart which had inexplicably begun to hammer. Suddenly she felt a little dizzy and claustrophobic and wondered if she was sick or maybe in the throes of some surprise anxiety attack. The thought made her even more anxious. Crowds of people hurried past her as she stood frozen to the floor.

Calm down,,,take deep breaths. Try to focus….. Focus…

Connie closed her eyes for a moment. She felt hot. When she opened them, she found herself staring upwards – right onto the first line of the arrival/departure monitor for Southwest Airlines.

Flight 171 – NYC to LAX - Departing 7:30 PM – On schedule

Connie glanced at her watch. It was 7:13. For a brief moment, Connie’s heart out-shouted her head, repeating a mantra that her old friend, Logic, had forced her ignore: You’re in love with him…you’re in love with him…you’re in love with him…

Her feet seemed to move by themselves.

Thirty minutes later, Connie – who had no luggage and no plan – found herself flying over New Jersey en route to Los Angeles.