September 14, 2022

The subject of the money to pay Duane is closed, and Nataley breathes a sigh of relief at the efficiency of the dialogue that will provide her the leverage she needs to free her son. Harry, with his frown and drawn eyebrows, clearly disagrees with the tactic. Nat understands, and yet she's had all day to consider what steps to take to release Noah from the tyranny of his birth father.

"What's next for your career, Nataley?" Stevie inquires, her fork capturing kale, berries, and almonds.

"I don't know really."

"That's not good enough. You've got to grab your future with both hands and make it a reality."

Nat silently agrees, nodding. She barely glances at Harry before she responds, "What I know with certainty is that I'm getting close to the end of my creative opportunity at the Late Late Show. Sure, there are plenty of options to explore, but I haven't decided which route to take."

"What interests you most?"

The question gives her pause. Over the last year, especially during the pandemic, she'd spent many hours contemplating exactly that question. Probably too many hours.

"Lighting design, of course. There's lighting on Broadway for theatre now that it's back post-COVID. I could consider a different type of television lighting design. Or perhaps movie lighting, but that would be a huge leap and take a while to break into."

"Concert lighting?" Stevie wonders, and Nataley feels her heart jump in her chest at the mention. Yes. Yes. Absolutely yes! That's what she would love. So many ways to convey meaning and emotion through lighting at a concert venue.

"It's something I've considered," she nonchalantly comments, "but I've no real experience."

"Bullshit." As usual, Stevie doesn't mince her words, "You light any number of musical acts in your current employment."

"True." Nataley had considered this, wondering about asking one of her favorite country music singers to take a chance on her, but ultimately that would mean leaving Noah for months on end with his father. Not an option.

Harry starts to speak, but Stevie waves him off, making Nataley smile. Poor H hasn't been cut off this often in their conversations with the queen before, but tonight Stevie seems to be in a mood to only discuss Nataley. Rather than pouting, though, Harry merely picks up his sparkling water and takes a sip.

"Maybe I could connect you with some people? Not for a full time job of course. Perhaps as a consultant? I know a few people in the music industry," Gypsy Godmother Stevie grins.

"Hey! I know people in the music industry too," Harry proclaims, apparently offended at the suggestion.

Shaking her head, Nataley laughs. "You're both lovely, but I haven't made any decisions. Just playing around with some ideas. It's not like I'm planning to leave the Late Late Show immediately."

"But you're planning to leave?" Harry is incredulous if his tone of voice is any indication.

Nat examines him, "We haven't really talked about stuff like this since you've been back in my life this time. The truth is," and her head swivels between the two musicians, "I did a lot of thinking during the time we weren't on the air. Before March of 2020, I was ready to spend decades doing this job -- or at least as long as James was planning to be on television. But the longer things dragged on with the entertainment industry, and the more worried I became that I'd have no income, the more I started wondering where my heart is in this work."

Leaning forward and placing her elbows on the table, Stevie surveys her. "You had an epiphany?"

"That's one way of describing it." Chewing a bite of her salad, Nat ponders how to describe her emotional journey. "At some point when we were back at work first in James' house and then back on set, I started to feel like I was growing stale. Does that make sense?" When both Harry and Stevie nod in agreement, Nataley continues, "Working for James has been steady work for years now, and I've needed that to make a home for Noah and me. Plus it's kept me in California where Noah can be around his father and my family. But it doesn't challenge me much anymore. The last time I stretched my wings was when I lit that play in independent theatre in 2018."

Pushing aside her plate, Nataley crosses her arms on the table in front of her. "Tyrone, my assistant lighting director, had this wonderful idea for tonight's show, and I hadn't even considered changing the lighting for what's become a familiar and common segment. When did I get complacent?" Continuing, she answers her own question, "Probably just fell into it over time, but it's not why I got into lighting design."

"Oh, honey, I know what you mean," Stevie concurred, "It's easy to do if we don't keep pushing ourselves. Truly if we as women don't challenge ourselves, no one else will. Others will easily slot us into an established category and never let us into the light beyond that."

Nataley nods, tears forming behind her eyes, but she knows she won't let them fall.

Reaching out, Harry touches her arm, "I had no idea, love, that you felt this way."

Sniffing, she smiles, "Well, this got maudlin, but actually there's no reason you would know, Harry. We've not revealed our underbellies to each other since we split. And now -- well we're just in a temporary holding pattern."

Tilting his head, he observes her, his eyes flitting from her eyes to her lips to her forehead to her mouth again.

Stevie clears her throat and rises, picking up her plate. "I'll just put these in the sink." Grasping Harry and Nat's dishes as well, she exits the room.

"We're still friends, Nat," Harry calmly asserts, ignoring the exit of the queen.

"No, Harry. We're not. I don't know what we are, but we do not have the luxury of the friendship we had before we started dating."

"I don't buy that. We've never stopped loving each other. Fuck, Nat. For years, you've been my person. The one who listens nonjudgmentally and asks me the questions that make me think. Let me be that for you again." He swallows, his gaze never leaving her eyes, "Please."

Softening, she reaches out and touches his cheek. "Fuck, I love you."

The appearance of his dimple forces her palm to shift on his skin. "I love you, too. And if you want to explore other career options, I'm here for it, love. You know I adore James, but it's not like you would leave him in the lurch. You've been training Tyrone for years, and he's ready to step into your footprints."

"Thanks, Harry," she gently whispers, leaning forward just enough to press her lips to his. "I'm honestly still playing with ideas, but I promise we can talk about this more if you want."

"I want," he grins as Stevie re-enters the room.

"Who wants to play Scrabble?"

----------

"Harry," Stevie prods, "Why don't you get the elevator?"

It's a silly request as the elevator is private and will arrive as soon as summoned, but Harry doesn't hesitate, agreeing as he grasps his handbag along with his jacket and turns to the lift.

The Queen pulls Nataley into a private office, covered with awards and double platinum records on the walls. Pulling out her checkbook, she scribbles some lines on it before ripping it at the seam and turning to Nat.

"This plan of yours is brilliant, Nat. It will work."

With a knowing smile and a surety in her heart, Nataley agrees with the legend. "I think so, too, Stevie. Thanks for the loan. You'll have the money back in no time."

The talented Ms. Nicks steps forward, tucking Nat's hair behind her ear. "If it's not going to work, back away. A retreat can be an opportunity to regroup."

Her head bobbing, Nataley grasps the woman tightly. "Thanks, Stevie. I wouldn't be able to even consider this without you."

Grasping Nat's head between her hands, the queen makes eye contact. "It's going to work. Call me afterwards."

"Harry's going to be pissed."

"Maybe, but if it works, he won't care in the long run. He adores that kid."

"True." A small tilting of the corners of her mouth reveals Nat's emotions in that moment. It's the dream really. "Thanks, Stevie, for understanding."

"You've got so much of me in you, Nataley Zwinger. I'm proud of you. Go make your future, girl."

Tucking the signed check in her purse, Nat puts her hand on the doorknob.

"Nat?" Stevie asks.

"I love him," Nataley quietly says, tears thick in her throat.

"Well that's not a surprise to anyone."

"I don't want him to leave."

There's a long pause before the legendary musician speaks. "When you're ready to get help with the other stuff, Nataley, I'm here. You're not alone."

A sob leaving her throat, Nat doesn't turn around to look at the gypsy godmother. She grasps the door handle and exits the home office, stalking towards the elevator where Harry is holding open the door with one arm crossing the triggering mechanism. Wrapping her hands around the railing, Nataley bites her lip, willing the tears to stay inside. Fuck. How did Stevie see her so clearly?

"You okay, love?" Harry asks, lounging against the opposite wall, his legs crossed in front of him.

"Mhm," she mumbles.

At the ground floor, she exits first, flashing a fast wave at the receptionist while Harry lingers to thank the woman for allowing them to travel to the penthouse. Her eyes on the ground, Nat approaches the valet. "Zwinger and Styles, Toyota."

"Yes, ma'am." The valet examines his board of keys, grasping the chain in one hand as he swivels to Nataley. "You okay, lady?"

Horrified that she's about to reveal her emotions to this stranger, Nataley allows her teeth to sink into her bottom lip as her backbone straightens and her voice clearly states, "Of course. My car please."

The regality of her pose communicates her desired message, and the valet disappears to drive her car to the front.

Arriving at her side, Harry cautiously slides a hand around her waist, and she wants with all of her being to melt into his side. Maintaining her rigidity, she's relieved when the driver pulls her ancient Corolla to the curb and jauntily steps out. Quickly, Nataley slides behind the wheel as Harry tips the man.

When he's in the car, having barely drawn his seatbelt across his lap, she punches the gas pedal, pulling out of the condo's parking lot and accelerating quickly.

"Nat!" Harry admonishes, but she pays no attention. Her foot presses on the gas, propelling them forward to the first stop sign where she taps the brakes but doesn't stop before proceeding across the street. She's got to get somewhere safe, and their temporary housing is it. It's all that's on her mind. Get there. Fast. Safe.

In only a few minutes, she's pulling into the alley behind Gabe's house, putting the car in park, and exiting quickly. With great impatience, she waits for Harry's door to close before she double clicks the remote to lock the vehicle. At the gate, she thrusts it open with a force that releases some of the pent-up emotions she feels.

Striding to the door, she unlocks it with the code and waits while Chuck bursts forth, jumping on her legs before running to every tree and bush to sprinkle a bit of his pee. Approaching her with trepidation, Harry stops at the door, peering at her.

"Nightcap?" he asks quietly. "Or just cuddles?"

How the fuck does he know her so well? It wasn't fair! As the tears overwhelm her, she falls into his arms.

"Cuddles it is," he remarks, picking her up in his arms and carrying her through the open door to the master bedroom. Gently, he places her on the bed. "I'll get your jammies."

"No!" She grasps his arm. "I want your hoodie!"

Surveying her face, Harry silently acquiesces, moving from her to search his luggage. Removing his handbag from his shoulder, he places it on the dresser before rummaging and finding the grey TPWK hoodie. Returning to her, he stands in front of her, his face filled with compassion.

Wearily, Nataley takes off her purse and sets it beside the nightstand before reaching with both hands to take off her shirt and unlatch her bra. Wordlessly, Harry slides the hoodie over her head, and the warmth of it seeps into her bones, causing a deep sigh to escape her lips. In silence, she rises and slips her jeans from her hips, slipping off her shoes first. In only her panties and the hoodie, she waits while Harry draws back the covers and encourages her.

"Slide in, love. I'll get Chuck and be right back."

Tucking her feet under the sheets and duvet, Nataley lies with her hands at her sides, staring at the ceiling. Her conversation with Stevie cut too close to the quick for many reasons. Or maybe everything was catching up to her all at once. Closing her eyes, she feels the hot tears escaping and dripping down her cheeks to her hairline and into her pillow.

Were anyone to ask, she couldn't articulate the problem. It was a deep ache in her soul that couldn't be explained. If pressed, she wouldn't be able to say if it were related to Noah and Duane or Harry or her career or something else. All she knows in this moment is that she cannot breathe.

Minutes later, Harry enters the room, Chuck at his heels. Placing a glass of water on the nightstand next to her, he silently removes his clothes down to his boxer briefs before lifting the covers and sitting on the edge of the bed.

His phone in hand, he pairs it with the Bluetooth speaker on the nightstand. Soon, the strains of 'Come a Little Closer' by Dierks Bentley waft in the room.

Tears flood her eyes. "You're playing country music?"

"Of course, my love. You seem to need it." Lying down, he tugs the sheet and duvet over both of them, laughing as Chuck jumps into the bed and twirls around three times before settling with a deep exhale at their feet. "Come here, Nat. Let's have a cuddle."

At his words, she shifts and rests her head on his chest.

"Whatever is on your mind, love, we can figure it out," he mumbles.

It's not just his words, but also his tone, that causes her to release the floodgates, her sobs racking her body as her tears dissolve into his chest. His arm around her imbues strength. The solid feel of his heart beating under her ear reminds her that she's not alone. The dampness flows from her eyes as though she's been saving up the emotions for years on end.

Maybe she has.

All she knows is that this is exactly where she belongs in this moment.