[heartfire05]

About a month after their trip to the nudist club Royce telephoned Lana from his apartment. It was the middle of the week and she wasn’t expecting to hear from him.

“Lana. I need to talk to you. Can I come over?”

“What’s wrong?” she gasped, sensing the stress in his voice.

“I can’t tell you over the phone. Are you free now?”

“I’m expecting company soon but I can call him up and cancel.”

“Please. If you can,” Royce begged.

“Give me a few minutes to arrange it. I’ll call and tell you when you can come over.”

Royce didn’t even have time to ring the doorbell. Lana threw open the door and pulled him in.

“Royce, what’s going on? You’ve got me so worried.”

“I’ve been promoted. At work. At least it’ll be official as soon as I accept. They’re moving me into management.”

“That’s wonderful. But why all the drama?”

“I have to relocate. To the West Coast.”

Lana stared silently as she absorbed this news.

“Lana,” Royce said. “I’ve asked you to marry me.” Lana instinctively shook her head and Royce blurted out his next words.

“I know you don’t want to. I won’t press you. But think about this. Come with me. Live with me. Please.”

Lana gave him a sad smile. “I can’t do that. It would just be marriage without the papers. Besides, my life is here.”

“I can turn down the promotion,” Royce told her. “Then I can stay here.”

“No you have to go,” Lana said. “Royce, all your life you’ve been looking for something. This is a great career move and if you take it maybe you’ll find that something you’ve always wanted. But you’ll never get it if you stay with me.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” he protested.

“When will you be moving?”

“In two weeks.”

“Well then we’ll have to make the most of those two weeks.” Lana hugged him. “And I’ll help you pack.”

It was Royce’s final night. The movers had methodically loaded up the furniture and boxed up items and now his apartment was bare and empty. He had made his last trip to the apartment office to sign off the papers and turn in his keys. All that remained was to get in his car in the morning and begin the long journey. He had one more night and he was spending it with Lana.

She had fixed a nice farewell dinner but he didn’t have much of an appetite. Lana cleared away the dishes, that one chore she would never neglect and joined him on the sofa. Later they would go to bed. Later they would once again sleep naked together. But for now they remained fully dressed as they sat on the sofa holding each other in their arms.

“I wish I could get you to change your mind about going with me,” Royce said after a long silence.

Lana just smiled. “I’ll put on some music,” was her reply.

She returned to the sofa and for another long period of silence they held each other. Royce absorbed her warmth and softness and listened to the music.

“There’s one thing I want to ask,” he finally said. “All your other friends. I’d like to think I was special.”

“You are,” Lana responded. “And so are they. Friends are always special.”

“That’s not what I wanted to hear,” Royce sighed. “Wasn’t there anything really special about me?”

Lana looked at him clinically as she pondered the question. “Well,” she finally spoke. “I don’t know if this is what you want to hear either, but of all my friends…”

She paused and Royce held his breath in anticipation.

“Of all my friends you have the prettiest dick.”

***

Royce stared off into space for a long time before he could speak.

“I never saw her again.

"Oh we talked on the phone several times after I moved. And we exchanged Christmas cards the first couple of years. But life goes on. One road leads to another. And after a while…less and less...it just faded away.

“I was involved with my job and then I had all those night classes too. Took a sabbatical to finish my degree and then got my MBA.

“And by that time I was seeing Carol.” He paused and removed his glasses to rub his eyes.

“You still miss Carol?” Martin asked.

“Every day,” Royce admitted. He managed a weak smile. “But all those wonderful years we had together. I guess I’ve still got enough of the old religion to hope somehow she’s waiting for me.”

He rubbed his eyes again. Then he put his glasses back on and looked at Martin. “I needed Lana,” he told him. “I needed her so much. Everything I ever achieved, she gave it to me. Because she made it all possible.

“Look, I’m not any good at explaining these things. I’m not a counselor. There are things youngsters like you won’t understand. I didn’t understand either. But now I know. When you’re as old as I am you’ll know it too.

“You’re young. All your life you’ve never been anything but young. It’s like it’ll last forever so you don’t even think about it. I didn’t. But now I know how short life really is. Don’t waste it.

“Without Lana I would have wasted my life wanting to live and not knowing how. Maybe I would have figured it out years later when it was too late. Lana helped me find life while I was still young. All the rest, my career, the career changes, the success, the company I built, I couldn’t have done that if I hadn’t met her.

“And I never would have had Carol. All that happiness, that companionship, the friendship, all that absolute lustful embracing of life we shared together. I never would have found her without Lana. Never would have known how to teach her to enjoy life. Like Lana taught me. And we never would have passed that love of life on to all those other friends we made.”

“But what about Lana?” Martin asked. “What about her life? All the years that followed. Do you think she was happy?”

“Lana knew what she wanted,” Royce answered. “She always did. Yes, I’m sure she was happy.”

“But can you really be sure?” Martin persisted. “Maybe she really did want you to come back for her. Sweep her off her feet. Take her with you.”

“No,” Royce said emphatically. “Lana did not want that. I know she didn’t.”

Martin studied Royce’s face and nodded, accepting his answer.

“Thinking back about Lana, do you have any regrets?”

“Yes,” Royce admitted. “One very big regret. I wish I had listened to her music. All that music she kept playing.”

“The music?” Martin was puzzled.

“It wasn’t just music,” Royce smiled. “I’m certain Lana was talking to me all along. Communicating feelings and messages with the music she played.

“I’ve thought about this so many times all these years. It all makes sense now. That first time, when I put up the mirror. She didn’t play anything. She didn’t really know me yet. But the next time she put on a record. Mood music. That’s what she called it. I wish I had listened to it. I wish I had paid attention to what this mood was she was giving me. Now that we had spent a night together and she knew me a little better.

“And all the times after. She would put on music. Records. Tapes. She hummed tunes too. She said she sometimes recorded her own tapes. That’s what I really wish I had listened to. The things she thought were important enough to record.

“That tape she played that last night. The one I finally listened to. She recorded that one.”

He looked at Martin and smiled and then continued. “There was this girl. Popular singer when I was a kid. Her name wouldn’t mean anything to your generation. But she was big in my time. Had several hit songs.

“That tape Lana played for me. That last night. She recorded one of those hit songs. Several times. So the same thing played over and over. And the title of the song, the whole theme of the song...”

Royce paused and looked at Martin with a knowing smile.

“You Don’t Own Me.”