PUBLICITY PLUS

In her all consuming love for Stephen, Alanna had made allowances for the absent fatherly instincts. She understood and accepted Stephen’s explanation of the events in his childhood which led to those feelings—losing his mother, to whom he was so strongly attached, as she gave life to Stephen’s younger brother. She also understood when Stephen told her the event had been more than traumatic for him—losing his mother had devastated him. And so Alanna made allowances. She hoped that one day Stephen would manage to feel differently toward his own son. But on the other hand, deep in her heart, she could never quite fathom any man having as little regard for his son as Stephen exhibited toward Mark. But Alanna loved Stephen, and she continued to act as a buffer for Mark. She loved Stephen, but Mark fulfilled her as only a child could.

        Alanna tucked Mark into his limed oak bookcase bed, kissed him and hugged him ferociously, then sadly withdrew from Mark’s cluttered room of toys and games. She glanced back over her shoulder at him and managed one last smile as she surveyed the toe-head nestled on the pillow and the special horse toys and statues resting on the shelves above his head. She left the door slightly ajar and the hall light on. She wasn’t sure whether the light was needed for Mark’s reassurance or for hers.    

       Alanna sank into the blue velvet easy chair in the living room. Her slender fingers gently massaged her fore-head as she vainly tried to drown out thoughts of St   ephen’s decision. Numbness overtook her. The man she loved so completely and unselfishly—the man who had vowed his love for her and had given meaning to her life—was now gone from her life. And if she were to believe all that he had told her minutes ago—Lord, it seemed like a lifetime ago—he would never take her in his arms again and his hands would never touch or caress her as they had for more than six years. All their dreams for the future had come to an end tonight. Their sprawling ranch would never fulfill their dream of breeding racehorses someday. Nothing they had dreamed of would ever come to pass now.

        Alanna wrapped her arms around herself as an involuntary shudder ran along her spine. NO     , she silently shouted. It will not be like that. She would not live the rest of her life only half alive without Stephen. Stephen will come back to me, she told herself. One day he would remember how much she loved him and realize how much he loved her. That thought was all that held her together as she brought her feet up into the chair and rocked back and forth, hugging her knees in a fierce attempt to find a lifeline of security to see her through.

Pushing herself from the chair some time later, she crossed the room, past the raised hearth in front of the log sized red brick fireplace, and stood in front of the grand piano in the corner of the spacious room. Her fingers drifted over the keys and eventually picked out a slow, haunting melody that soon became a blue wailing strain. Her eyes rose to the plaque on the wall just above the piano. The maple frame encircled a gold replica of a recording of one of Alanna’s compositions, signifying the sale of over one million copies of that recording.

        "Making Love" she read from the inscription. She had written that song especially for Stephen two years ago, putting her heart and soul into it. The fact that it had become a hit was only secondary in importance to Alanna. Writing the song for the man she loved had given significant meaning to the event.

"My first hit song," she whispered to the quiet room while her fingers brushed lightly over the polished surface. "To everyone but Stephen," she added . Looking back now, she remembered how she had brushed aside her feeling that Stephen hadn’t seemed as pleased as she had hoped he would. She had assumed that his lack of enthusiasm had been due to the fact that he felt peculiar knowing the world was singing about a private part of his life. Tonight she found herself wondering if her career had driven Stephen away. Tonight a lot of questions were surfacing while her world began to crumble in an earthquake of disillusion.

       Suddenly Alanna slammed her fists against the keyboard of the piano, causing a loud, unharmonious chord to erupt. Her eyes wandered toward the entry and the front door as if she could will Stephen to come through it, pretending that nothing had happened to alter her life with him. But the door didn’t open and Stephen’s footsteps didn’t make their usual muffled sounds across the plush carpet. And Stephen’s somewhat lop-sided grin wasn’t warming the chill which suddenly filled her and brought an involuntary shudder.