Closing the Door

by

Dede

Max unlocked the front door and stepped into the house. He paused with his coat half off.

Something was wrong here. The house seemed unsettling, and then he heard Niles shouting from in front of the office. Max sighed, put his coat in the closet, and set his suitcase down on the table, all the while listening to Niles yell at the office door.

"Miss Babcock... Miss Babcock, open the door. You crazy old maid, when Mr. Sheffield gets home he will kill me if you're still in there. Unlock this door... Please! When that love-sick twit comes home, I don't want him to think I..." Just then Max tapped Niles on the shoulder. "Oh, sir, I was just... of course, you know I didn't mean..."

Max gave him a look of death. "Oh, shut up! I don't want to hear it. Go on into the kitchen; I'll be there in a minute." Niles obediently sprinted into the kitchen. Max shook his head in frustration, then turned his attention to the door. "C.C., are you ok?" he asked gently. There was no response. "C.C., I'll take care of Niles and be in there in a moment... try to calm down."

Max walked into the kitchen and Niles tried to explain. "Now, sir, I was just trying to get her to unlock the door and I..."

Max cut him off. "I really don't care about that." Max leaned against the counter and sighed. He was tired and already knew precisely what Niles thought of him. "I just want to know what you said to make her lock herself in the... you were talking about the wedding, weren't you?"

Niles gave him a guilty look.

"Ok, I'm going to see if I can talk to her. You are going to finish cleaning up in here and then check on the children... Where's Fran?" Max suddenly realized it was 10:30 at night and she hadn't greeted him at the door. She frequently had done that even before they got engaged.

Niles began slowly washing some dishes and, hoping to change to subject, said, "She went to her mother's and said she would probably stay the night if they went overboard with the planning. She also told me to ask you to call her if you knew which color tablecloths would go with the flowers."

Max nearly collapsed. Boy, was he sick of this! All he had heard for the last four days was: red or white roses, then red roses with white tulips, then centerpiece or wall fixture or both, now it was red or white tablecloths. All he wanted to do was get married; was that so much to ask?

'All right,' Max thought, 'I will go with the white. I have a fifty-fifty chance that she won't tell me she has to change the flowers again.' "I'll call her later." Max walked out of the kitchen and down the hall to the office door. He decided to try knocking again, but there was only a faint murmur from an unknown origin as a response. Then he tried the door knob; C.C. had unlocked it, so the door slowly creaked open.

Inside, the office was dark, except for the moonlight which created haunting shadows with the furniture. As the door opened, the light from the hallway streamed in, threatening to defeat the moonlight shadows. C.C. sat on the couch, and as Max entered, he saw she had her arms folded in her lap and her head was resting on them. Max shut the door with a slight hesitation and turned to her. Suddenly he felt horrible; he had known for several years she had a crush on him, but he had never felt that way about her. He had known seeing him with Fran would be tough on her, but watching her cry tugged on a little known part of himself that had always wondered: if they had tried a relationship, would they have ended up together? Max moved to the couch and sat down next to her. C.C. heard his movement; she could picture his every step without looking, down to the way his chest rose and fell as he sighed. She wanted to be alone, but didn't have it in her to tell him to go.

Max instinctively slid his arm around her back and put his other hand on her shoulder. "C.C.?" Max asked, keeping his voice carefully soft and sweet. C.C. lifted her head slowly, letting her hair fall forward, hiding her face. Max's hand slid gently up from her shoulder and pulled her hair behind her ear. Then he took out a handkerchief and dried her tears. "Shh... I can't have my favorite partner so upset."

C.C. responded to every touch of his hand. It felt good... just so good to have him near her. Max handed her the handkerchief and ran his fingers tenderly along her jawbone. It was then that C.C. wrapped her arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder. Max was the reason she was crying, but she had never been able to resist him. Max had never seen her like this. Not in the twenty-some years they had known each other had she ever clung to him, completely helpless. He rubbed her back and soothed her. "C.C... C.C. don't cry. You'll break my heart. I know you don't want me to marry Fran, but that's no reason to cry."

C.C. sighed, but she couldn't stop the tears from falling from her eyes to his jacket. "I... I just always thought..." She broke off mid-sentence, but it didn't matter; he knew what she was thinking. On paper, of course, they were perfect for each other. In the age of arranged marriage, it might even have worked out. They both came from wealthy families, were about the same age, loved the theater, and were thoroughly cultured. Yes, on paper, they fit, but in real life it was not quite true. Max had always been a bit out there; he did the opposite of what his parents wanted and loved to dream (at first anyway). He was never as stuffy on the inside as he appeared, not to mention the fact that he had a secret passion for the bizarre and exotic. While C.C. was a purebred; sure, she hated her parents, but she believed in power instead of dreams. She always kept her nose pointed down towards anyone with less money. Max, however, considered and called his employees family. C.C. loved money and business; she had always been good at being cold and ruthless, so she stuck with it. Max loved people; in fact, he loved this city for it's people, it's chaos, and it's craziness. C.C. hated not having complete control over her life while Max didn't really mind the spontaneous; it truly excited him just to be alive and to enjoy life. Even though he often had to hide this side of himself for business reasons, it was who he was on the inside. Fran brought that out in him and he loved her partly for that reason.

"C.C., I love Fran. I know that's a hard thing to understand, but it's the truth."

C.C. pulled away from him violently. "I don't want to hear it!"

Max stood up and grabbed a hold of her in front of the desk. He held her by her elbows and shook her gently. "Listen to me, C.C. I don't love you like that. I will never feel that way about you. I love Fran and I'm going to marry her." C.C. tried to jerk away from his stare, but he wouldn't let her go. Max wasn't sure if confronting her with such a cruel truth was the best idea, but years of slow moving therapy hadn't done it, maybe one fast "slap" in the face with honesty would work.

C.C. was so angry, but not at him. She knew he could only feel what he could feel and that was all. She just loved him. Max put his arms around her again as she began to sob.

"C.C., I don't want to lose you over this. I need you with me. You're one of my most trusted friends not to mention my partner. I couldn't survive in this business without you." Max decided a change in tactic was needed if she was going to calm down.

"You're not going to get rid of me, just because you run off and get married," C.C. said after taking a deep breath. Max smiled as C.C. pull back to look at him. They stared at each other a moment.

For that moment, they both wished things were different; they wished everything would go back to when Max was the new Mr. Happening and C.C. was his creative wonder behind the scenes. They had been so happy together then. He had brought the people in and she had knocked them dead. It hadn't mattered whether they were attracted to each other, because they worked so well together. When Max had married Sarah, it had bothered C.C., but she had been involved with this or that hopeful actor and of course a few rich playboys that Max introduced her to at his society parties. Besides, as much as C.C. lusted after him, Max had been madly in love with his wife and she knew better than to go after a married man.

The moment ended though, when C.C. walked to the French doors, suddenly they were back in reality. This reality that had started when Sarah died; when Max became a grieving widower, C.C. experienced a side of Max she hadn't before. She saw him at his darkest moments and when he was most venerable. C.C. had hated him then; she had hated the emotions and the children's problems, because she didn't know how to deal with them. Everything was out of control, so she grabbed the wheel within the business and worked as hard as she could. For that, Maxwell would always be thankful. C.C. had given him something to put his back up against, when his world was falling apart. Unfortunately, C.C. had already fallen for Maxwell the Broadway Producer, the millionaire, the eligible bachelor, but she was so blinded by the idea of him, she never took the time to get to know his loving, caring, family side that made up so much more of him than his business side. This was because she had no experience with a family lifestyle, so she just never knew what to say or do in such situations.

As for Maxwell, he never thought of C.C. as anything other than his business partner and good friend. She was the best in biz and always got the job done. Besides, C.C. wouldn't hesitate to be the girl on his arm, when he had no one to help him through the evening's affairs. In truth, Maxwell needed people; he just needed the support, the protection, and the reassurance that he could never find in himself. It never mattered to Max how many awards he won, how much money he had, or how successful he was, because he found the most value in his family's and friends' opinions. C.C. had been there to tell him how well things were going and how brilliant he was, when he had needed to steady his footing in life.

Now, here they stood alone in this office that they had spent countless hours in with only one thing between them, Fran. Fran had walked in the front door and stole Maxwell's heart. He fell for her and everything she had to offer. Fran represented something he had been longing for most of his life: a stable, caring family. She gave the children the warm loving environment that Maxwell had shut away. Mostly, because to feel anything after his wife died was to feel pain and loss, so he closed down that part of himself. Fran opened the children up to life and helped them become normal happy youths, but what she didn't realize was she was opening a door that had been locked tight. Fran was opening Maxwell's heart and letting all the guilt and pain fall away to reveal a very lonely man, who was terrified of love and emotion. C.C. couldn't compete with the way Fran touched Maxwell. Where C.C. had distracted him from his pain, Fran healed it and offered a hand to help him through it. Now, Maxwell was in love with Fran, who had fallen just as hard for the real him behind all the masks he wore. C.C. was lost. She didn't know what to do, because she still wanted to be the girl on his arm impressing the backers, or making fun of some society woman who had misspoken a memorable line from Broadway. Max had Fran to be his girl, but he still wanted C.C.'s support and help, so they were stuck in a difficult situation.

Max walked up behind her and slid one arm around C.C.'s waist. She rubbed his arm and he kissed her on the cheek. "It's late. Would you like me to drive you home?" Max asked hoping a good night's sleep would help her get over this.

"No," C.C. said turning around and looking up at him, "I'll take a cab home." Max still had a hold of her hand and she didn't want him to let go.

"Are you going to be ok with this?" Max looked at her hopefully.

C.C. smiled and dropped her eyes. "Yes.... I think I'll be all right. I mean, its not like we ever had a relationship, so nothing's ending," C.C. let slowly go of his hand and walked toward the door, as she spoke.

Max watched her carefully as she opened the door, then on impulse he darted to her.

"C.C.," he said.

"What?" she asked looking at him in surprise. Max put his hand onto the side of her head and stroked her cheek down to the jaw. Then he slowly leaned in and closed his eyes. C.C. instinctively put her hand on his arm and shut her eyes. Their lips touched and at that moment the world fell away. The only thing that existed was the doorway C.C.'s back was against and each other. It was a fleeting moment, but it was sweet and gentle. Neither of them felt love in that kiss, but both found closure there.

"Good-bye C.C.," Max whispered into her ear and then walked into the office.

"Good-bye Maxwell," C.C. spoke almost dreamily. She took the moment in and grabbed the door handle. C.C. stepped out of the office and with a sigh, closed the door.

Maxwell sat down at his desk and breathed slowly in the quiet, empty, night. The only light came creeping in from under the door and from the unforgiving full moon. Maxwell paid little attention to the moon, however, he just stared at the door. He had watched C.C. close it and now he was feeling the affects of the barren silence which was letting his conscious mind run wild with lost thoughts from long ago and crazy ideas from the nether-world of his subconscious. He would spend an hour at that desk with his eyes fixed on the door, but Maxwell wouldn't be in his office. He would be off on the roller-coaster of his mind, a quiet observer of the chaos which was a tangled web of ideas and feelings never spoken and never realized. That night however, he would go to bed convinced of his love for Fran and of his friendship with C.C.

C.C. took a cab home that night and stared out the window at the impersonal New York City night with it's billboards and bright lights. None of this seemed real though; it was all a jumbled mess in her glassy eyes. She went up to her apartment and entered it. C.C. looked around the cold indifferent decor like a stranger in a foreign environment. The light streamed in her bedroom window from between the satin curtains. She would get herself a Martini and spend an eternity staring out that window in her black, silk robe. She would stare at the city, she had made a name for herself in; the city that respected her and held her up as one of it's higher class. In this night, in this city, she would find the emptiness that was in the heart of all that respect; the coldness in all that money and power, she possessed. Then C.C. would think of Maxwell, of her friends, and of all the people in that house, who despite her behavior cared about her. She would go to sleep that night knowing that perhaps she never really loved Maxwell, but rather loved the way the whole household made her feel like she had a family and maybe, maybe that was what she so desperately wanted to be a part of, even if she didn't know how.

The next morning, C.C. came across her therapist's card on the kitchen table, when she was having breakfast and looked at it for a moment. C.C. took a sip of her coffee and then ripped the card in half. She stood up and threw the card away with a sigh of relief. 'I don't think I need my appointment today,' she thought and proceeded to try and get Chester on his leash.

At 8:00 AM, Maxwell was sitting on the office couch going over a contract for his latest star actor, when he heard the most curious thing. The front door opened and Max listened to someone say "Hello, hello," in his partner's familiar voice and then a very happy bark from her dog. Maxwell removed his glasses and came to the door of the office to greet her. C.C. met him there and smiled cheerfully.

"C.C., I didn't expert you to come in, today," Max spoke with a very serious under tone.

"I figured you would need me.. at the 8:15 meeting," C.C. said and walked passed him. She set her briefcase down and let Chester off his leash. He jumped up on the couch and was content to fall asleep there. Max just watched her in amazement. C.C. found some documents in her briefcase put them in priority order and closed it up.

As she turned back around Max found his voice, "I talked to Gennings last night and he said he would also be attending the meeting today. I made sure to let him know your word is law in this deal, so he should take you seriously." Max was not sure if she was just putting up a good front or if she was really ok, but he hoped C.C. was going to make peace with things.

C.C. nodded. "Thank you, Maxwell." Just then they caught each other's eyes. "Thank you, for doing that last night," C.C. said searching his face for signs of understanding.

"You're very important to me, and I can't have anyone treating my partner badly," Max responded to her in a solemn tone. "Well, we should go into the library. Gennings wanted to have the meeting in there," Max informed her and offered his arm.

C.C. smiled wide and took it. "Then, let's go set up. He always gets nervous when it looks like we've started without him," C.C. told him. Max grinned and escorted her to the library.

C.C. felt content; maybe she wasn't his love, but she was his partner and in that respect they had a hold on each other, that would not easily be broken. 'Besides,' C.C. thought, 'I have other options.' C.C. smirked as she caught a glimpse of Niles dusting down the hall.

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