| Subject: WTTS2 - 83c |
Author:
KT
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Date Posted: 22:16:53 01/11/02 Fri
In reply to:
KT
's message, "Window to the Soul 2 - More (splitting the thread *as requested by Sanlin*)" on 21:52:29 01/11/02 Fri
Window to the Soul 2 - Part 83c
By KT
Copyright December 18, 2000
The first thing Jamie noticed when he picked Nikita up on Monday morning was the strange light about her face. She looked very serious, her eyes slightly puffed, as if she had been crying. She greeted him softly, meeting his gaze with a fleeting connection, then retreating into herself. He settled her in the car and loaded her chair. As they took off for the Hall, her unusual silence disturbed him greatly. He glanced sideways, catching her profile. Her eyes stared straight ahead into the traffic, taking in nothing, her face unreadable.
"Nikita..."
At the sound of her name, Nikita's eyes dropped. "Yes?"
"Are you OK?"
She drew a deep breath, as if making a decision. "No."
Jamie's jaw clenched, his hands tightening on the wheel. Her unexpectedly honest response drew forth his healing instincts. He said nothing further as his mind played with the possibilities for her reticence. He didn't like speculation. It generally led nowhere. If he was going to help her, he had to get the facts. He flipped open his cell phone and dialed with one hand.
"Hello. Michael Samuelle, please."
Nikita's eyes widened, mild panic on her face as she turned to Jamie, shaking her head in protest. He met her negative reaction with an intense look as he waited for his call to be transferred, then continued speaking before she had a chance to say anything.
"Hello, Michael. Jamie here. Nikita and I were on our way to the Hall, but I'm having a bit of car trouble, so I'm not sure what time we'll get there. Just wanted to let you know. We're fine. I'll call you back and let you know what's up."
It became apparent to Nikita that Jamie was talking to Michael's voice mail. Her eyes went back to staring, and Jamie kept driving. They were heading north on Lake Shore Drive, away from the Hall. Nikita stole a look at Jamie, but his eyes were on the road. He exited the Drive, then turned toward the lake. Nikita wasn't paying much attention until she realized where they were. She kept her silence until he had parked.
Jamie pulled her chair out of the back of the car, then lifted her easily out and into it. He started pushing her, but she quickly took up the wheels, ignoring the motor, and they made their way toward Michael's bench. Jamie sat and Nikita pulled up next to him.
"How did you know about this place?"
"I followed Michael here the night you sent him packing."
"Oh..."
Jamie kept his eyes trained on Nikita. The wind was whipping her hair about, and she pulled her coat around her. The beautiful spring breeze that had been taunting them for the past week had deserted them in favor of a brisk wintry chill, the air pregnant with humidity, clouds gathering as the water reflected the dull gray of the morning's pallid aspect. He watched her start to shiver.
"He sat here for quite a long time, Nikita."
She said nothing, only waited for him to continue. Her heart tweaked a little at the thought of Michael out here alone that night... just as he probably had been on many nights before the paths of their lives had crossed. She could picture him sitting stoically against the wind, gathering his forces to face his world without her. Nikita knew he could do it. She just wasn't sure anymore that she could.
"And...?"
"And when I was sure he wasn't going to do anything foolish, I left."
Nikita nodded. That would be Jamie. Taking care of business. And his friends. Jamie didn't tell Nikita that the other reason he had followed Michael was because of Chernov's appearance at Roberta's house. He wanted them all to be safe.
Nikita looked Jamie square in the eye. "Did you think that Michael would do something..."
Jamie returned her look directly. "Not really but... You see, I know what it is to lose the love of your life. I couldn't just watch him go. I had to make sure he'd be all right." His gaze grew even more intense, and Nikita felt pinned. Jamie's voice was soft and hard all at once. "So. Has he forgiven you?"
Nikita stiffened as she recalled the interrupted kiss in Michael's office, what, a week ago already? There had been forgiveness in his eyes, in that kiss. Where had she been all week? She thought of her lunches with Gray, and of Michael's urging her to accept his help. She looked evenly at Jamie. But when she spoke, her voice was unsteady.
"Yes, I do believe he has."
Jamie pulled back just a bit, musing aloud. "That must be why he came to visit on Friday night. He forgave you, then wanted to see you."
Nikita abruptly sat up, staring at Jamie. "He... Michael was..." at Roberta's house? Her mind began to whirl.
Jamie nodded. "... at your mother's house. Apparently he wanted to surprise you. I think he was the one who was surprised. He arrived around six." He frowned. Obviously, this was the first she was hearing about it.
"How long did he stay?"
"Oh, until a bit after ten." Jamie's implication was clear. His eyes gave her no reprieve.
Nikita thought about the fun she'd had with Gray and Casey. All the while, Michael was visiting and waiting for her to arrive home. Oh, this was worse than she had thought. No wonder she hadn't heard from him. He must have assumed that she and Gray... Nikita's eyes widened as she looked at Jamie with understanding.
"Oh dear..."
He nodded again. "The ladies were reluctant to tell him where you were, but I handled that. He was upset, but he did to stay to supper. When you didn't return, well, everyone was ready for bed, so he left before you came home." Jamie considered how Michael was always polite, even when things were difficult.
Nikita felt the pit of her stomach tightening. Her eyes softened with moisture as the wind beat against them. "I guess I'm confused."
Now they were getting somewhere. "And what is it you think you're confused about?"
She pushed herself to admit it. "I'm trying to imagine all the reasons that Michael won't quit, why he won't just leave me to my life and get on with his."
Jamie looked curiously at her. "You would imagine that Michael would want to live without you, while you still breathe upon this earth? Sorry, Nikita, but if I were in love with you, I couldn't consider even for a moment that there would be some comfort in that." He held her eyes with his. "Michael isn't some whimpering dog who would leave with his tail between his legs simply because you told him to go away. But he is too polite to push back when you've so clearly drawn the line. In spite of his great love for you, the last thing he will do is force you to do something that would give you pain. Is this what you want?"
Nikita stared out over the water. It's color was a deep leaden green. It reminded her of the color of Michael's eyes the night she blew up... and his reaction... stormy, fierce, angry. With her. And she was angry as well.
"But... he abandoned me to Gray!"
"Nikita! He did not abandon you! Has it occurred to you that he was following protocol for the Symphony, doing what he would do for any person in your situation? He must have explained all that."
As she thought back, she realized that Michael had explained it. But she had seen it through the eyes of her past, the remnant of that life where floating perilously without anchor, where pain and fear had been the status quo. She had done them both a great injustice. Nikita's eyes closed.
"He did," she whispered. "I just couldn't hear him." She looked up to see Jamie's lips curve into a quiet smile, his eyes gently probing hers as he questioned her.
"So, can you hear him now?" He took her hands tenderly in his, giving her a full minute to think.
She nodded as her face lit briefly in reflection of the transformation that was beginning to take place inside of her. "Yes. I can." She spoke with great calm. "Jamie... Can we... can we get me to work, please?"
Jamie flipped open his cell phone and dialed, waiting patiently to be connected.
"Hello, Michael... Yes, we're fine..." He listened attentively, a slow smile spreading across his face as he turned away from Nikita's gaze. "Of course... no problem. Glad to be of help... We'll be there shortly."
Nikita was lost in thought as Jamie got her back in the car and they headed for the Hall. As they pulled up, she turned to him and sighed. "Thanks, Jamie. Thank you."
"My pleasure. Now go. I'll see you back here at five."
"Five?"
"Yes. According to your mentor, you're ready for a full day's work."
* * * * * * * *
The day flew by. Nikita attended the string sectional for the Brandenburgs, and was disappointed that it was conducted by the concertmaster rather than Michael. She ran into Gray, who invited her to lunch. She turned him down with a white lie about catching up on her practicing, then sought Michael's office, hoping to learn why he had been absent from the sectional. She peeked in, but the room was empty. There were neat piles of paper on his desk, and his coat was missing. "That's odd," she thought. "Jamie just spoke with him."
She ended up having lunch alone at the Hall cafeteria, studying her scores and chatting with her colleagues. The other orchestra members had become accustomed to her wheelchair, so weren't as scrutinizing as they had been the week before. She found herself relaxing a bit, and relieved not to have to explain anything to anyone. She was much more able to focus on the work at hand, and by five o'clock had a true feeling of accomplishment. She never did run into Michael.
Jamie was on time to pick her up. She noticed her overnight bag in the back seat. He placed her chair over it, ignoring her inquiring look. It was beginning to snow.
"Looks like our spring weather was premature," she remarked.
"Mmm-hmm," Jamie replied. His face was cryptic as he settled behind the wheel. "How'd things go with Michael?"
"They didn't." Nikita's voice was low with emotion. "That is, I never saw him all day."
Jamie forayed into the traffic, keeping silent as he negotiated the rush hour melee. He spoke not a word as he headed north on Michigan Avenue, then onto Lake Shore Drive. He passed up North Avenue and exited at Diversey. Nikita sat alert as she watched the streets go by.
"Hey!"
Jamie ignored her and kept on driving. As he parked the car, he looked at her apologetically.
"Jamie!"
He put her in her chair, laid her overnight bag on her lap, wheeled her up to the entrance to Michael's apartment building, then into the elevator.
"This is kidnapping!" she protested, to no avail. As they reached their destination, he deposited her at Michael's door and knocked.
"Sorry, but... orders are orders." He bent and brushed a kiss over her forehead, then ducked back into the elevator before she could react. As the doors closed on his grinning face, Nikita heard a soft voice at her back.
"Hello, Nikita. Please. Come in."
She turned and looked at Michael standing just inside the open door. He stood with panther-like grace, dressed in black, sleek, poised, his face unusually clean-shaven, his steady pale green gaze hypnotizing her. She moved forward slowly and heard the door click shut.
As she entered the living room, Nikita stopped in her tracks. The room was filled with candles, illuminated by their myriad flames, and there was music, faint, but just present enough... She paused as the sounds of a harp fell subtley upon her ears. Andreas Vollenweider. As she sat staring into the mesmerizing candlelight, she felt Michael's presence hovering behind her. Her coat was lifted from her shoulders, then her chair began moving toward the dining table.
She wanted to be angry with him for having had her absconded without her consent, for making Jamie the instument of the abduction, but the atmosphere in the room made it impossible to feel anything but peace. Her protests died before they reached her lips.
"Thank you," she breathed.
"You're welcome." His voice was soft, husky, as if he hadn't used it for days.
Her nostrils flared delicately as the scent of food registered - something exotic - vaguely Asian. Her eyes took in a bottle of champagne, and the simply set table. But mostly, she was in awe of the flowers. The room was filled with paperwhites, their color subdued by the soft light, their scent mingling with that of the food.
Nikita's chair stopped moving and Michael turned her sideways to the table. He opened the bottle of champagne, poured two glasses, then sat facing her. His expression was serious as he handed her a glass, his fingers brushing hers ever so lightly, his eyes moving over her features as if seeing them for the very first time. He held his glass up in a toast.
"A la vie."
She clinked hers against his, and they sipped, their eyes locked over the rims of the glasses. Nikita felt Michael's free hand slip around and cradle the nape of her neck as the hand that held his glass reached forward and twined itself around hers, so that their wrists were pressing against each other. She felt her pulse quicken and beat against his. They took another sip, the proximity of their glasses creating a moment when their foreheads touched. Michael's eyes never left hers.
His hand grazed her neck and trailed down her back as they sipped again, and Nikita's eyes finally closed as the sensations flowing through her became more exquisite by the second. She felt her glass being lifted from her hand, and the warm palms of Michael's hands slid up the sides of her face until his fingers threaded into her hair. Tears gathered and stung her eyelids as soft lips sought hers, teasing, coaxing, breathing life back into her heart.
Nikita's arms slipped around his neck as Michael's mouth made speech impossible. This time there was no one to interrupt.
* * * * * * * *
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