Chapter 2

When we got to our floor, the bodyguard went in the opposite direction. I noticed him going into another room.

"He’s staying here, too?" I asked Howie as I put the key into the door to our room.

"Yea, he checked in last night," he said looking at me as if I were clueless. I opened the door and the three of us walked into the room. Danny sat on the bed and began to change back into his clothes.

"So we’re going to be followed every time we go anywhere with you?"

"Well, yea. Except when we go to my parents’ house." I rolled my eyes.

"Look, Maggie, you’re going to have to get used to it. It’s something I have to deal with every day because of who I am."

"Well, what I want to know is how he knew what was up with that girl before anyone else did?"

"It’s his job to know what’s happening before it happens. That’s what I pay him for," he said in an exasperated tone.

I felt something poke me in the side, so I looked down. Danny was standing next to me, fully dressed in his guayabera shirt and cargo shorts, holding his balled up swim trunks in his hand. I took the wet ball, picked my clothes up off the floor and went into the bathroom. I closed the door and took a deep breath. ‘Was it really worth it to come all this way to see Howie?’ I thought.

As I changed back into my shorts and t-shirt, I heard the T.V. turn on and what sounded like a baseball game. I took my hair out of the French braid it was in, put mine and Danny’s wet suits on the shower rod and left the bathroom. Howie was sprawled out on the bed looking at the T.V. I could tell by the expression on his face that he wasn’t really concentrating on the game. Danny was stretched out next to Howie. He looked like he was about to fall asleep. I sat on the bed next to Danny and looked at Howie for a minute before speaking.

"Look, I’m sorry I got upset, okay?"

"Hmm hmm," he mumbled without looking at me. I took a deep breath and decided to tell him what I had been waiting all afternoon to tell him.

"Howie, guess what?" I waited for an answer and when I didn’t get one, I continued.

"You know how you said you’d help me get back in the game if I ever wanted to dance again?" Still no answer, so I cut to the chase.

"Before I left Chicago, my friend Stacy, you remember her don’t you? Anyway, she called me about an audition here in Orlando for a music video. They need dancers." Howie looked at me with a slight interest.

"Yea? Whose video?"

"LFO," I told him. Howie laughed but I didn’t take it personally. The reason he laughed is because Brad Frischetti once took me out when Howie and I were still just friends. And Stacy was a high school friend who also toured with BSB in ’98. She stayed with them through the ’99 tour before venturing out on her own. Now she lives in Orlando and works as a model and a dancer.

"Talk about a blast from the past," he said, staring at the ceiling with a goofy smile on his face.

"Stacy made some calls and got me an audition time. It’s next Saturday."

"So that gives you two weeks to prepare. What do you need me to help you with?"

"Would you come to the gym and work out with me? I haven’t done any weight training since Danny was born…" my voice trailed off when I saw the look of skepticism on Howie’s face.

"What, do you think three years is too long to go without training? I’ve been working out, you know, step aerobics, swimming, biking…"

"Well, I don’t feel great about you cramming three years worth of weight training into just two weeks."

"Can we just try it, please? We’ll go slow and we’ll only cover the basics."

"Okay, fine, but you have to promise me you won’t push yourself too hard. I don’t want you to get hurt."

"I know."

"Well, is that your only strategy?"

"Stacy got me into her dance class. So, on Tuesday and Thursday for the next two weeks I’ll be spending time with her."

"Who’s going to watch Danny?"

"I thought it would be good for him to come with me."

"Forget it, I’ll get my mom to take him."

"That’s okay, Stacy said the teacher wouldn’t mind."

"No, I’ll get my mom to take him. Better yet, I’ll watch him. You need total concentration, which you won’t get if he’s there. Remember Steve and Renee?" I sure did.

Steve and Renee were two other dancers on the ’98 tour. They had a little girl, Monica, who would be six now. They had eloped when they were young and were trying to fulfill their dream of being professional dancers. Unfortunately, they had to take three-year-old Monica with them everywhere they went because everyone else was too busy to watch her. Denise, A.J.’s mom, would watch her when her parents were performing and the little girl was always underfoot. But pretty soon they had to drop out of the tour because it wasn’t the best environment for their daughter. Everybody told them so: Denise, Fatima, Lou, and the guys. I heard that they now own a dance studio in San Diego.

One of the reasons I broke up with Howie when I did was because I didn’t want us to end up like them.

"Will you have time to take him?"

"If I didn’t have time to spend with my own son, I wouldn’t have invited the two of you to Orlando."

"Right. Besides, it’ll give you two a chance to get to know each other." We both looked down at Danny, who was fast asleep.

"Actually, the gym will give me time to get to know Mama better. What you say, Mama?" he whispered.

Then we looked at each other. Without thinking, our mouths drifted toward each other and we kissed. It was a nice kiss, one that brought back some very nice memories. Suddenly, something in me caused me to break away.

"I don’t know how you can kiss me with my hair looking like this," I said, getting up. I went to my overnight bag and got out my hairbrush. My hair didn’t get wet in the pool but it was still frizzy. Howie and I used to argue about whose "Brillo Pad" hair was the hardest to tame. I got out a hair clip and put up my hair.

"You look good no matter what you do to your hair, Mary Calzone," he said breathlessly. Mary Calzone? Nobody’s called me that in three years. When the BSB toured South America, the band, the dancers and everyone connected to the show were all checking into a hotel in Buenos Aires. The guys always used aliases when checking in so no one would be able to track them down. One of Howie’s aliases was José Gonzalez. This time, the dancers all wanted to use aliases too. My alias was Mary Calzone. Mary is my real first name. My middle name is Margaret, which is where Maggie comes from. A calzone is something like a pizza but with crust on the top. Howie thought this was hilarious and wouldn’t stop calling me Mary Calzone. Pretty soon, everyone else was calling me Mary Calzone, too.

"Get over here, José Gonzalez," I whispered, holding out my arms. He swung his legs over to the side of the bed and walked over to me. Taking me in his arms, he removed my hair clip. His fingers combed my hair as we kissed again. Soon, I felt his hands on my butt and made no effort to remove them. Just then, our moment of bliss was disturbed by the irate protest of our son.

"Hey! What are you doing?" he demanded. We stopped and turned to him. Howie sat down on the bed next to him and played with his hair.

"Hey, you’re up," Howie said cheerfully. Danny looked at him skeptically. Then he got of the bed, grabbed the remote from the nightstand and walked over to the T.V. He stood directly in front of it and flipped through the channels. Howie and I looked at each other, not knowing what to say.

"What time is it?" Danny said in a snotty tone.

"Please ask nicely, Daniel," I said.

"What time is it, Mama, please?"

"It’s four o’clock, Danny. Why?"

"Nevermind," he had found something to watch on Nickelodeon and sat on the edge of the bed. Howie took a deep breath and got up. He kissed my cheek and then sat back down next to Danny. He put his arm around Danny’s shoulders. Danny shook it off. Howie got back up and walked toward the door.

"I think he’s just a little tired and cranky," I said.

"Yea, well I was going to take you guys to a movie and to dinner tonight. But now I’m not so sure," he said.

"Well, give as a little time and I’ll talk to Danny. I’m sure he’d love to go," I pleaded.

"Excuse me please, I’m watching my show," Danny said a little too politely.

"I’ll go home and change. You’ll talk to him?" asked Howie.

"Yes. He’ll come around, I just know he will. He doesn’t stay mad for long. And he only gets snotty when he can’t have his way or when he doesn’t understand something."

"What doesn’t he understand?"

"Well, have you noticed that he calls you by your first name?"

"You mean you haven’t told him that I’m his dad?"

"Well, no."

"Maggie!"

"Okay, okay, just go and I’ll have a talk with him."

"Fix this problem and then call me when you figure out if we’re gonna do something tonight." He turned the doorknob and opened the door.

"Now," he said in a monotone, "I gotta go knock on ol’ boy’s door and tell him I’m ready to roll." He walked down the hall toward the bodyguard’s room without looking back. I closed the door, leaned against it and took a deep breath. I had no choice but to straighten out this mess. I walked over to Danny, grabbed the remote from him and turned off the T.V.

"Ma!" he cried.

"We need to have a talk, Boo," I said.

"Now?" he whined.

"Yes, now," I sat down next to him. He looked up at me.

"You were kissing Howie," he pouted.

"Yes. Yes, I was."

"Why? Do you like him?" Howie was right, this kid is smart!

"Yes I do."

"But why do you kiss him like that?"

"Danny, Howie’s your father," there, I just blurted it out.

"He is?"

"Yes, Danny, he is." I felt as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

"Is that why he keeps buying me stuff and playing with me?"

"Yes!" I said, giving him my biggest smile.

"Cool!" he said and started jumping on the bed. I stood up and grabbed him.

"Whoa! Stop it or you’ll hurt yourself," I said, picking him up.

"Mama?"

"Yea, Boo."

"Why was that lady yelling at Howie by the pool?"

"She wanted to bother us."

"Why?"

"Danny, I’m not in the mood for 20 questions."

"Why did she want to bother us, Mama?"

"Because Howie’s famous," I said without thinking.

"He is?"

"Yes, he’s a singer," I said, putting him down on the floor.

"I have a dad who’s famous?"

"Yes, and your famous dad wants to take you and Mama to a movie tonight. Is that okay with you?"

"Yea!"

"Why don’t we put on some nice clothes and we’ll call him to tell him we said ‘yes’?" As an answer, Danny walked over to his open suitcase and started pulling out clothes. He pulled his favorite blue shirt over the one he had on. I took out a pair of gray slacks and a long-sleeved black polo and handed them to him.

"This is what you’re wearing," I said. Pouting, he took the clothes and laid threw them on the bed. Then he lifted his arms up over his head so I could pull the two shirts off him. As I watched him change his clothes, I thought about what must be going through his head. It felt good to know that he understood everything, but it felt horrible that I had underestimated him. When he finished dressing, I combed his hair.

"Can we call him now?" he asked.

"Sure, I don’t see why not," I said. I picked up the phone and dialed Howie’s cell number. When he answered, I gave the phone to Danny.

"Howie, guess what? You’re my dad!" He paused for an answer. The he looked at me.

"Howie says he knows he’s my dad." I smiled at Danny. The funny thing is, up until six months ago, neither of them knew that the other existed. I listened to Danny’s series of "uh-huhs" before he said goodbye and I watched him put the phone back on the hook.

"He says he’ll be here in ten minutes," he told me.

"Okay."

"You’re not wearing that, are you?" I looked down at my t-shirt and shorts.

"You’re right! Let me change." I took out a pair of black pants and a burgundy button-down shirt. After I got dressed, I brushed my hair. I thought about putting it up, but decided to leave it down. I slipped my feet into a pair of black loafers and then helped Danny put on his socks and black Reeboks. Just as I finished tying the second shoe, the phone rang. It was the front desk announcing that Howie was downstairs waiting for us. I told the receptionist to send Howie up. In five minutes, Howie was knocking on the door. When I let him in, Danny started jumping on the bed again.

"Howie, you’re my dad!" he shouted. Howie grabbed him and took him into his arms.

"Whoa! Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself."

"Mama says that, too, Howie."

"I know, instead of Howie, why don’t you call me Papi?"

"Papi?" I asked.

"Sure, he’s part Puerto Rican. Besides I’ve always dreamed that my kids would call me Papi. And now that I have a kid…"

"Okay, okay," I said, laughing.

"How—I mean, Papi?" asked Danny.

"What Little Man?"

"Can we go to the movie now?"

"Sure, let’s go!" We left the room and walked to the elevators. The bodyguard was waiting for us. When we stepped onto an open elevator, I looked into the mirrored walls. Howie and Danny were dressed almost alike in black shirts and gray pants, except instead of cotton and linen, Howie’s clothes were made of silk and wool. The three of us made a good-looking family.

The movie Howie took us to see was a Disney movie that Danny had already seen. But he didn’t mind seeing it again. Even though the bodyguard sat in the aisle seat next to Howie, I was barely aware of his presence. Except when I heard his deep, throaty chuckle from time to time. When the movie was over and we walked out into the lobby, Danny trudged off ahead of us.

"That’s my favorite movie!" He exclaimed.

"I can see that," Howie laughed. I ran after Danny and grabbed him so he wouldn’t get lost in the crowd.

"Now, if you all will excuse me, I need to use the restroom," Howie said as he excused himself. Ten minutes later, he came back out and we left the theater.

"Hey Dan, do you like Chinese food?" asked Howie.

"Fried Rice!" he shouted happily.

"I’ll take that as a ‘yes’," laughed Howie. We walked to the Chinese restaurant down the street from the movie theater. When the maitre’d recognized Howie, he ushered us to a corner booth. I ordered vegetable fried rice for Danny and myself. Howie had Mongolian Beef and the bodyguard had Sweet and Sour Pork, Shrimp Lo Mein, four eggrolls, and an order of sticky rice. I never knew one person could eat so much. Danny couldn’t take his eyes off the bodyguard and the bodyguard couldn’t take his eyes off his plate. After our meal, the waiter brought us fortune cookies. The bodyguard didn’t want his so he gave it to Danny. Danny asked Howie to read his fortunes. One of them said he should save for a rainy day.

"That means save your money," Howie explained. The other one said that money was no object.

"Okay, don’t save your money," he said, laughing.

"So, which is it?" asked Danny.

"You know what, Little Man, these things are just for fun, don’t worry about it." Danny didn’t seem to be worried. He was too busy scarfing down his cookies. Howie cracked his cookie open and read the fortune. He smiled and then watched me open mine. My fortune said that true love was within reach.

"Can I see yours?" he asked. I slid my paper across the table to him. He picked it up, read it and chuckled. Then he placed the two strips of paper next to each other on the table. They both contained the same prophecy. We both smiled at each other but I suddenly looked away. Danny was folding, unfolding and refolding his papers. The bodyguard was drinking water. The check came and Howie paid it.

When we got back to the hotel, Howie had to get something out of the trunk of his car before he let the valet park it. He took out a leather backpack. I wondered what was in it but I didn’t ask. When we got to the room, there was a cot standing in the middle of it. Howie threw his backpack on the floor, unfolded the cot and sat on it.

"So, should this be for me or for Danny. Your decision."

"Where did this come from?" Howie had a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

"You know when I had to go to the bathroom? Well, I didn’t need to use it. I just needed to call and make arrangements." I rolled my eyes.

"Why didn’t you just ask if you could stay here tonight?" I asked.

"Because I like surprises, don’t you?" Howie had this little habit of being all secretive about trivial things. Sometimes it was cute but sometimes it was annoying. Right now, I couldn’t decide which it was. Before I could answer Howie’s question about who the cot was for, Danny sat down next to Howie.

"I’ll sleep here, Mama, and you and Papi can have the big bed."

"Okay, Sweetie," I said. He started pulling off his shirt.

"You need a bath, Boo," I told him.

"With bubbles?"

"With bubbles."

Howie picked his backpack up off the floor and placed it on the dresser. He stretched out on the big bed while I got Danny’s bath started. Danny ran into the bathroom and got into the tub. I left the door open so I could keep an eye on him. When I came out of the bathroom, I noticed the mess Danny and I had made with our clothes earlier that evening. I began folding the clothes and putting them in the dresser drawers. I placed Danny’s pajamas on the cot.

"I was thinking I’d drop Danny off at my mom’s around 6:30 and then come back and wake you up at 7:00."

"Sounds good." I finished putting the clothes and suitcases away and lay down next to Howie on the bed. He was watching a movie on HBO that I didn’t recognize. We lay in silence for a while until Danny called me from the bathroom.

"Mama, I’m done."

"Are you sure?" I teased.

"Yea, I’m all wrinkly." Howie and I both laughed. I got up and went into the bathroom. Danny was sitting in the tub with a big glob of bubbles on his head. I scraped it off with my hand and squeezed some hotel shampoo on his head. After massaging it into Danny’s scalp, I rinsed my hands. Then I took a cup from the stack next to the sink and filled it with water from the faucet.

"Stand up and close your eyes," I said.

"Hurry, I hate this part," he said. I dumped about four cupfulls of water over his head to rinse him off. He shrieked.

"Is it over?" he asked.

"It’s over," I said. I opened the drain and helped Danny get out of the tub. I dried him off and he ran into the room and put on his pajamas. Howie turned back the covers on the cot and Danny climbed under them. Howie sat on the edge of the cot and played with Danny’s wet curls.

"I’m glad we’re friends again, Dan," he said.

"Me, too," said Danny. Howie bent over and kissed Danny’s forehead. Danny closed his eyes.

"Good night, Papi," he said before drifting off.

"Buenas noches, m’ijo," said Howie. I went into the bathroom to change into my pajamas and brush my teeth. When I came out, Howie was laying on the bed in his boxers. The lights were off except for the lamp on the nightstand on my side of the bed. The T.V. was turned off and the radio on the nightstand on Howie’s side was playing soft music. I sat on the edge of the bed and Howie began massaging my neck.

"If it’s all right with you, I just want to go to sleep. It’s the jet lag, all the excitement this afternoon, the big dinner…"

"Relax, you know I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to do." He stopped massaging my neck but didn’t move his hands. I placed my hands on top of them.

"I know." I got up, pulled back the covers on my side as Howie pulled them back on his side. We climbed into bed and lay in each other’s arms.

"Howie, do you think I have a shot at this video?"

"Of course, why wouldn’t you?"

"You’re not just saying that to be nice?"

"Maggie, I don’t lie about things like that. If I didn’t think you were any good, I would say it to your face." And he would, too. I’ve seen him criticize this dancer named Jaime who, everyone agreed, was a total hack.

"It’s just been so long."

"Stop worrying, I know you’re going to get it. You were one of the best dancers on tour and you’ve always had the drive to succeed."

"You mean when I was young I was one of the best. When I was young I had the drive."

"If you don’t think you’ll get it, why did you have Stacy get you the audition?"

"Stacy had to twist my arm, which wasn’t hard to do since she knew I’d be in Orlando anyway."

"Do you think I’m crazy?"

"Sometimes."

"Maggie!"

"No, I don’t think you’re crazy in this case. You know what you’re talking about."

"And do you think Stacy’s crazy?"

"No, of course not."

"Okay, so we’re not crazy for believing in you. But you are crazy if you don’t believe in yourself."

"Okay," I laughed. "I’m tired, I don’t want to talk anymore."

"Good night, Mary Calzone," he said as kissed my forehead. We both drifted off to sleep.