A New York Story: Chapter 5

Lisa felt her heart leap into her throat as she witnessed Michael standing in front of them, looking at them suspiciously. His clothes were slightly rumpled and his hair seemed a bit out of sorts, as if it had been more disheveled before but he'd tried to smooth it down. He didn't appear as sloshed as he had at the party. Perhaps he'd sobered up a bit. She realized how close she was sitting to Eric and if the situation had been different, she'd really hope that Michael didn't get the wrong idea. But none of that really mattered now; she was still very hurt that he'd been so oblivious to her distress.

She turned to Eric and watched him move away from her and straighten up off the bed. He was looking at Michael accusingly. “What the fuck am I doing in your room?? What the fuck were you doing, taking off without your wife and leaving some randy piece of shit to nearly rape her?!!”

“Don't you get all melodramatic and----- wh-WHAT??” Michael's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. He turned to Lisa in shock and she met his gaze, nodding.

“The disgusting bloke dressed as Sir Lancelot accosted me, forced himself on me.” She inwardly winced at the way her voice sounded so raw and tired. But it matched the way she was feeling. “He dragged me back to one of the rooms and he ...” She trailed off, not sure how she could possibly continue.

Michael still appeared in a state of shock. For several seconds he didn't say anything. “Did he hurt you?” he squeaked out.

“Um ….” Lisa lowered her gaze. How could she answer such a question? No, he didn't quite hurt her physically, but emotionally was another story. She felt tears welling up in her eyes again.

She looked back up at Michael. He still appeared shocked, but there was something else as well. Lisa had seen it before and recognized it right away. He was in the middle of an emotional overload. “I …” he stuttered.

Lisa followed his gaze over toward Eric, who was standing with his arms folded across his chest, glaring expectantly at Michael.

Michael said not a word; instead, he quickly rushed to the door, opened it and quickly left.

Lisa stared at the door, dumbfounded. She was now at a loss for words herself. She'd barely managed to explain, and he was now gone …

“He's upset,” Eric said softly, looking back at her. “I've known him gone eight years now and that's exactly how he reacts when he's upset.”

Lisa nodded slowly. She'd vaguely known that about Michael, how he tried as hard as possible to avoid confrontation, and it was really on display now. She also wondered if Michael was feeling guilty over his behavior at the party, that perhaps this could have been prevented. She uttered a cry of frustration; she just wanted her brain to shut up. She'd felt so lost right now.

She heard Eric approach her and sit down on the bed next to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “It's as much of a shock to him as it was to us,” Eric told her sagely. “I could see it in his face. Look, I'm going to go and talk to him.” Lisa gazed up at him and relaxed slightly off his look of reassurance. “I know there is so much you want to say to him, but let me have a go at it first. I want him to tell me what possessed him to act like such a stupid git last night.”

“Do you even know where he went?”

“I have a pretty good idea,” Eric replied. “I'll bring him straight up here and then I promise I won't interfere any longer.”

Lisa smiled weakly and gave Eric a small hug. “Eric, I can't thank you enough for being such a good friend. I really appreciate this.”

Eric smiled back. “Anytime, Lisa. I'll get him back to you swiftly, you hear me?” He winked.

Lisa felt a relieved chuckle bubble up inside her and she nodded as Eric headed for the door and stepped outside.

Michael sat at a small table in the hotel's lounge, drinking a cup of coffee and nursing a really bad headache. He'd just popped a couple of aspirin and was hoping they'd take the edge off soon. What the hell had he gotten himself into last night? He was having a great time at the party, meeting and chatting with so many different people. He vaguely remembered enjoying a good drink or two or three; those two or three had somehow multiplied down the line, apparent from the bad hangover he was dealing with this morning.

And what had happened with Lisa? He'd thought she was having a good time, even though they had split up and found different groups of people throughout the evening. He'd vaguely remembered some chap in a knight costume talking to her and grabbing her hand, but he thought he was just being silly. Hell, everyone at this party seemed to be having fun in one way or another, even some of the naughty persuasion.

Now he felt extremely guilty. Lisa had actually been attacked, practically under his nose, and he was too oblivious to stop it. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, tossing his bangs back from his face.

He suddenly heard footsteps approach. Without looking up, he knew who it was. “Eric? Please tell me this didn't actually happen,” he said miserably.

“I can't.”

Michael put his half-empty cup of coffee down and finally risked a glance up at Eric. He was gazing down at Michael seriously. Sighing in defeat, Michael gestured for him to sit down. Eric pulled out the chair opposite from him and took a seat.

“I have no idea what to say,” Michael told him quietly. “What exactly happened last night?”

“Why don't you go back upstairs with me and let your wife tell you?”

“Fuck, Eric. I can't do that,” Michael muttered. “I can't face her. Not yet. My God, I cocked up so badly.”

Overcome with emotion and anger at himself, Michael slammed his hand down on the table. Slamming it a bit too hard, he gave a little yelp and stuck his fingers in his mouth. Served him right. He glanced up at Eric momentarily and caught a little wince from him. He seemed to be regarding Mike with an ounce of sympathy now as well.

“How could I do this?” Michael continued angrily. “I let Lisa be put in danger like that. What sort of husband does that make me?” He sighed in frustration and sadness. “I don't think there is any way she can forgive me; I don't think there will ever be.” He bit his lip. Hearing a sound of disbelief from Eric, his directed his gaze back to the taller man.

“Mike, stop it. Just stop,” Eric admonished him firmly. “She loves you. She was worried that you no longer loved her.”

At this, Michael felt his heart shatter. “I do love her, Eric.”

“Then why didn't you even look for her when you were leaving?” Eric blurted out.

Michael's face grew hot. He sighed again, covering his face with his hands and then scrubbing them through his hair. “I did look about the room for her, but she didn't turn up. Reckoned she was in the toilet. I was so pissed and then Terry suggested doing something really daft as the night was still young. He suggested this crazy jaunt across the city, wanted to frolic through Central Park and chat up a horse.” He gave a humorless laugh. Looking back at Eric, he saw his lips twitch into an amused little grin for just a moment. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Anyway, I don't remember much of what we did; only that Terry fell into a fountain in the park and was reprimanded by a policeman who couldn't stop laughing.” He stopped and chuckled briefly at the memory, glancing cautiously at Eric who had joined him.

“I can't imagine Jonesy is in a very good humor this morning,” Eric said, amused.

“I've no idea where he got to, actually. Reckon he's got a hangover just as bad as I do,” Michael said, still feeling the blush in his cheeks. His smile faded and he stared at Eric, feeling the intense wave of sadness and guilt overtaking him again. “Eric, I love Lisa so much. I feel absolutely gutted for what happened to her. If I hadn't let myself get so plastered and so involved with all these people, I would have been able to stop it. I don't know how I can make it up to her.” He lowered his gaze, suddenly taking an interest in the pattern on the tablecloth.

“Talk to her,” Eric said simply. “If you love her and feel so bloody awful for what happened, talk to her. Show her you care. Let her tell you about it. Let her cry on your shoulder if she needs it.”

Michael gazed at Eric for a moment. His friend was right. She had started to explain, but the shock and guilt was so overwhelming, he couldn't deal with it at the time and had to escape. He felt absolutely horrible. After what happened, she needed his support more than ever. How could he be so selfish?

He allowed himself a faint smile. “You're right. Thanks for your services, Doctor Eric. It is very much appreciated.”

Eric nodded and then quirked an eyebrow. “By 'services' you mean of the 'advice' persuasion, I take it. 'Cos don't forget you are married, mate. How exactly would we explain this to your wife?”

Michael snorted and then playfully swatted him. “Enough of that, you silly git.”

Eric laughed briefly. “So, you alright to go back up there? Or is the hangover still making you feel like absolute shit?”

Mike sighed. “I still have a pissing awful headache, but apart from that I'm alright. I need to talk with her and own up to what I've done. I really hope she can forgive me.”

Eric smiled. “I'm sure she can, Mike.” He got up and made his way around to Mike, patting him on the shoulder. Michael winced and hoped the aspirin tablets he took would finally do their job. “Come on,” Eric coaxed him. “Need help standing up?”

Michael rolled his eyes. “No. I'm not dying, you know.” He stood up and moved away from the table.

“Just checking,” Eric said cheekily.

Michael walked ahead of him and stuck two fingers up at him behind his back. He heard Eric chuckle and felt a grin tug at his lips. Suddenly a thought came to him and he turned around to face Eric. “Can you wait here a tic? I want to nip down to the florist's a few doors down.”

“Er...?” Eric started before his eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Sure, no problem,” he nodded.

Michael regarded him gratefully and raced for the doors, heading out into the sunny, late April morning.

Gazing down at the flowers in his hand as they made their way down the hotel corridor, Michael hoped Lisa would like them. He'd found a small bouquet of spring flowers in a white ceramic vase that he thought would be perfect. He wasn't trying to win her back with gifts, surely not; but he hoped it would at least make some amends for his thoughtless behavior last night. Sniffing, he inhaled their sweet perfume and it actually calmed his nerves some.

At last they reached his and Lisa's room. Eric looked at him expectantly. “Shall I...?” he mouthed.

Michael nodded earnestly. Eric was the last person she'd seen, and the person she most trusted at the moment. Michael really hoped to change that in time; sooner rather than later.

Eric rapped on the door. “Knock knock.”

Pause. And then...

“Come in,” Lisa's voice called out. Michael had heard her sniffle first and his heart sunk. It sounded as if she were still crying. He didn't expect her to be anything but upset about what that git had done to her, but it still …

He wasn't given anymore time to ponder when Eric nodded to him and gestured for him to go first. Michael steeled himself, grabbed hold of knob and swung the door open. He stuck his head inside, raising his eyebrows tentatively. He found Lisa sitting on the edge of the bed, looking exhausted. Her eyes flew over to him for a split second and she nodded before turning back around. Michael took this as his cue to enter, and he did so gingerly.

“Alright, I'll let you two talk it out,” Eric spoke up as he stuck his head in the doorway, remaining outside.

“Thanks, Eric,” Lisa said, emotionless, turning to him and giving him a little smile. Michael felt a pang of jealously for a moment. She could look Eric in the eyes and smile at him. Well, of course she could; he was there for her. It made Michael just despise himself even more.

Eric smiled back and nodded, then looked at Michael in encouragement. “Remember,” he whispered, patting Michael on the shoulder.

Michael gazed down at Eric's hand on his shoulder and nodded, lifting his gaze back to Eric. “Thanks,” he said softly.

Eric gave one final nod, leaving them to it. Michael neared the bed and stared at Lisa, sitting on the far end and refusing to look at him. He placed the small bouquet on the table and then sat down next to her. Lisa moved away and he felt his heart breaking again. He wished she would give him half a chance.

He sat down closer, yet she still moved further away. He moved over and she moved yet again, until she was on the very edge of the bed.

Michael grinned. “Nowhere else for you to go but the floor, love,” he teased gently. She still refused to look at him, her jaw set.

He sighed. “I'm a right bloody tosser. Lisa, please. Look at me,” he pleaded.

She still didn't react. Michael knew he could do one of two things: sit there in defeat and pity until she decided to finally look at him; or take the initiative and show her that he cared, no, loved her deeply and was so sorry for what he had done. Eric's words from earlier echoed in his mind.

'Show her you care.'

Reaching out, he cupped his hand over her chin, gently turning her face to look at him. A tiny bit of fear welled up inside him as to how she'd react, but this time she didn't resist. It was a tiny ray of hope that perhaps she could forgive him.

Lisa felt Michael touch her chin and she shivered inwardly. She knew she couldn't keep this up. Besides, giving him the silent treatment was perhaps a bit unreasonable and immature. It wasn't as if he'd deliberately set everything up for her to be attacked. He was just … oblivious. He wasn't there to save her. Not that she wanted to think of herself as a damsel in distress who couldn't take care of herself; she had just never been in such a situation before and with Michael being in the same room when it started, she'd hoped for at least some support from him.

Michael turned her face so she could finally look at him. She kept her expression on the stony side, but her heart started melting when she noticed the unbearably guilty look on his face.

“I'm sorry,” he said softly. “I got so caught up in celebrity and glitz and drink and all that superficial rubbish, I failed to pay attention to that which is so much more important.” He touched her lightly on the cheek. “You were obviously in danger and I was so pissed I didn't even realize it. Stupid bastard.”

Lisa couldn't tell if he was referring to Don or to himself with that last comment.

“Lisa, I'm sorry. Please. What can I do to make you not hate me?”

Michael's voice faltered on the word 'hate' and Lisa felt tears forming in her eyes as she realized how badly this affected him. She broke her stony facade and her lip began to tremble. “Oh, Michael. I could never, ever hate you. In fact – and I realize this is rather silly now – I thought you didn't care and perhaps no longer loved me.”

Michael seemed to flinch, as if her words really stung him. He gathered her up in his arms. “Oh, darling, I am so sorry I made you believe that. I love you and I do care; I always have and I always will. I made that promise the day we were married. I was such a stupid git to make you think otherwise.”

Lisa's tears were falling in earnest as she relaxed into him. “And I was stupid to think it, but I … I just felt so helpless as this was all going on.”

Michael stroked her hair. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

She knew she had to. Lisa took a deep breath and nodded. She told Michael all about what happened from the moment Don approached her and started flirting. As she got to the part where she'd tried to get Michael's attention, she caught a deep blush in his cheeks and he'd lowered his head almost in shame.

“Oh God, I really acted that way?”

All she could do was nod.

“Darling, I am so sorry.” He kissed the top of her head. “Please know that there is no one as important to me as you.”

Lisa gazed up at him, able to make out the tenderness in Michael's face through the blur of her tears. She merely sniffled in reply.

“Please tell me the rest.”

She continued and Michael's eyes widened and his face blanched when she described what Don had done to her in the private room. “Please tell me he didn't hurt you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. There seemed to be a tinge of anger in it as well.

Composing herself a bit, Lisa shook her head. “No, he didn't; not physically, anyway. And I know what you're thinking, but no, he didn't rape me. He didn't get that far when Eric showed up.”

Michael appeared both hurt and embarrassed at the same time. “Did you talk to the police?”

“Yes, we did. We told the management at the massage parlor and they rang the police. They took the bastard away, questioned me and Eric, filled out a report and said they would contact us if they needed any further information.”

Michael let out the deep breath he seemed to be holding. “That's it, is it? Oh, Christ, Lisa. I could have stopped this. I should have stayed with you. I shouldn't have let those people drag me away and get me so involved in conversation about the stupidest crap, I shouldn't have drunk like a fish the way I did.” He rambled away at top speed. “I shouldn't---”

Lisa held an index finger to his lips. “Michael, please. It's not your fault,” she admonished him gently. “No one knew this was going to happen.”

Michael seemed to relax a bit. “Still, I can't believe what that fucking bastard did to you. If he were in front of me now I would beat him senseless.” He glared angrily.

Lisa raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I've always been known as a non-confrontational chap with not a mean bone in my body, but after attacking my wife like that he would not get through me easily.”

She felt a small, grateful smile tugging at her lips. It faltered as she realized how very vulnerable she was. “Perhaps I should take some self-defense classes … karate, judo...”

“Hm. Next thing you'll be showing off some fancy moves like Bruce Lee?” He smiled for the first time she'd seen today. “Sorry, I don't mean to sound insensitive.”

She found herself laughing. It felt good to relax and laugh just a bit. “You're not being insensitive. Believe me, this is the first time I've laughed in quite a while.” She sighed. “I needed it.”

She gazed up into Michael's sweet smile before he scooped her up into another hug. “Please believe me when I say I love you more than anything. I was so bloody selfish last night. I promise I will never let such a thing happen again. And I won't let myself get talked into so much drink either...”
She raised her head and gave Michael a tender kiss on the lips, which he more than reciprocated.

Suddenly the phone in the room gave off a shrill ring. They separated and Michael edged up off the bed. He furrowed his brow in the direction of the phone and turned back to her. “Shall I get that?”

Lisa smoothed down her hair and nodded.

Michael picked up the phone. “Hello? ….. Yes. Yes, I'm her husband. ….. Oh? … Really.... Well she's here, I'll put her on.” He turned to Lisa. “It's the police station, love. Seems there's been an interesting turn of events.”

Lisa regarded him curiously as she got up and took the phone from him. An interesting turn of events? She hoped the guy wasn't going to get off scot free for what he'd done. She put the receiver up to her ear. “Hello?... Yes, this is she...... What??”

Michael gazed at Lisa expectantly, hoping that it wasn't bad news. From her expression that didn't seem to be the case, but still.

She hung up the phone and approached Michael. “Well. Interesting turn indeed.”

He raised his eyebrows. “What is it?”

“It seems that Don has a criminal record.”

Michael felt his eyebrows lift even higher, his eyes widening. “What??”

“Mm-hm. Five counts of sexual harassment and aggravated assault in the last two years. He was convicted and sentenced to prison four times, the last two sentences were commuted and he was given some community service. He just finished his last bit of service a few weeks ago.”

Michael was truly at a loss for words. “How... how did he end up at this party with such a history?”

“Do you know who was in charge of hiring these people to stand round in the knight costumes?”

“I thought the cinema and the distributor here in New York were involved. Certainly not us.” A thought suddenly came to him and his mind flew into action. “Hang on. I'm going to make a few phone calls,” he muttered, rising and heading toward the phone.

“Well! Another bit of interesting information,” Michael exclaimed as he'd hung up the phone for what Lisa hoped was the last time. She gazed at him expectantly. “I spoke to the distributor and the chaps from the cinema. Turns out the others had volunteered, but they knew of no 'Don' who had volunteered to dress as Sir Lancelot.”

Lisa's jaw dropped. “So... so he just showed up? Sneaked in on his own accord??”

Michael nodded grimly. “Seems so. Given his history, it wouldn't be surprising he reckoned he'd find some ladies on which to prey at such a gathering. I told them what had happened. They feel absolutely awful. They asked how long we have left in New York and if you wanted to speak to someone – a counselor they know. They offered to pay for it.”

Lisa was surprised and even a bit touched. “That's very kind of them, but I think I'll wait until we get back to London if I feel the need to speak to anyone.”

Michael nodded. “I told them we only had a few days left anyway and wanted to make the most of them. Thought you wanted to put this whole sordid thing behind you.”

Lisa sighed. She had been quite traumatized by what Don had done, but she knew it could have been a lot worse and was so thankful it wasn't. She did want to put all this behind her and at least try to enjoy their remaining days in New York. Who knows how long it would be until they got the opportunity to return? “Yeah, I would like to enjoy the rest of the little time we have left here,” she smiled.

Michael returned her smile and gathered her into a hug once again. “My dear Lisa, I hope you can forgive me for being such an idiot last night.”

She stepped back and grinned slightly. “Only if you will stop apologizing so much!” she joked. She caught his dimples peeking out at the corners of his mouth and traced one of them with her index finger. Michael giggled and they embraced, kissing tenderly.

Michael and Lisa spent their last few days in New York very well. They'd met the other Pythons for meals and touring the city. Jonesy in particular seemed a bit embarrassed and withdrawn at first and earned amused grins from the others, having caught wind of his drunken experience with Michael after the Holy Grail premiere party.

They'd also done quite a bit of sight-seeing, just walking through the park, and on their last night they'd taken a romantic cruise in the harbor. It turned out that Michael had planned this in particular as a peace offering and to show Lisa how much he loved her. It was a beautiful night, the moon glistening off the water and the cool breezes intermixing with the warm, late-April/early-May air. After a delicious meal, Michael had ordered some chocolate covered strawberries along with a bottle of champagne. And, just to show Lisa he meant business, he watched what he drank.

Toward the end of the evening, they stood out on the deck, looking out at the harbor. Michael wrapped his arm around Lisa, pulling her closer to him. She gazed at him lovingly. “Michael?”

“Yes, love?”

“Thank you. Thank you for all this. Thank you for loving me, and thank you for being you.”

He smiled warmly at her. “And thank you for forgiving me for being such an arse.”

“And thank you for quitting that incessant apologizing,” she laughed.

He joined her and then wrapped his arms around her, picking her up slightly and setting her back down before engulfing her in a deep kiss.

Lisa felt her heart cry out in ecstasy and she started running her hands through Michael's hair. Yes, things had ended on a high note. Their New York story had started off well, gone down in the dumpster for a few chapters, but the story's conflict had been resolved well.

And she wouldn't have changed the ending for the world.


THE END