by Jean Joachim
Kate nodded. He cupped her cheek and kissed her. “Take care of yourself first, honey. You’ll be working hard. You don’t need to be worrying about her. She can take care of herself.”
“I know. I need to cut her loose.”
The car pulled up to the curb and stopped. The couple got their luggage and headed for the security line. They held hands as they followed along. Jake was recognized by a handful of people and signed autographs. He leaned down to whisper in her ear.
“Soon you’ll be the famous one and everyone’ll push me aside to get your signature.”
She laughed. “Don’t hold your breath.”
Once they passed safely through the metal detectors, they checked their boarding passes. They were heading in opposite directions. While Kate had twenty minutes to boarding, Jake only had fifteen. The moment she had been dreading had arrived.
“Time to say goodbye,” she said, her eyes filling.
“Not goodbye. See you later?” Jake pulled her into a hug.
Kate clung to him as if it were the last time she’d ever see him.
“Hey, baby, don’t break my ribs,” he chuckled.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said, loosening her grip. “It’s just that…” she stopped.
“I know. I know. It’ll be okay. We can do it.”
“Can we?” She raised wet eyes to him.
“I’ll come to you after the series.”
“That seems so far away,” she said.
“It’s not. You’ll see. You’ll see,” he said, stroking her hair.
Kate buried her face in his chest and sobbed. Jake clasped her shoulders.
“I love you. We’ll be together.”
She rummaged through her purse for a tissue. Jake yanked a handkerchief out of his back pocket and thrust it into her hand. “Here.”
She wiped her face. “I’ll wash it and get it back to you.”
“See? That means we’ll be seeing each other again.”
“You’ve got to go,” she said, glancing at her watch.
He kissed her as if it was the last time. People stopped and watched. Some actually applauded when they separated. Jake ran to his gate while Kate raised a palm, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Then it was her turn to run. She made it, wending her way to her seat. She plopped down next to the aisle and fastened her seatbelt. Numb, she stared straight ahead but saw nothing. She clutched Jake’s hanky in her right hand and shoved her purse under the seat with her left. The doors closed and the plane taxied to the runway.
Her journey to a new life had begun, and she’d take it alone.
Chapter Fifteen
Kate settled quickly in Seattle. Rehearsals started right away. They’d play in Seattle for a week, then on to Portland. A week in each city until they reached Denver, where they planned to stay for two weeks, if reviews were good. Then straight to Chicago. The schedule after that was grueling, one week in each, smaller city, two weeks in the larger ones like Dallas and Houston.
After Chicago, they’d depart for Milwaukee, Indianapolis, Columbus, Cincinnati, Pittsburgh, then south, to Texas, and moving east to New Orleans, and smaller cities on their way to Atlanta. They’d head north through a few stops in the Carolinas, and Tennessee, then D.C. The final swing would be to Philadelphia then home.
The company was friendly, making the fourteen-hour work days easier. To avoid unpleasant scenes with randy producers, and crew, Kate made her engagement public. She hoped that would discourage any man who had sexual ideas on his mind.
To her relief, Bart McQuinn, her co-star was gay. They became friends immediately. He was as new to the road trip experience as she, so they clung to each other for support. He had a wicked sense of humor, which put Kate at ease right away.
There were three weeks of rehearsal before opening night. Kate studied her lines during her few hours of free time. At night, she’d text Jake. With the three-hour time difference, she rarely found him awake. In the morning, the first thing she did was open her phone. There it was—his answer to her text from the night before.
Tough day. Struck out twice. Miss you.
Touching base with Jake through texts made getting up easier. His responses, sometimes funny, sometimes sexy, made her smile as she met the day.
Sore muscles after rehearsal. Miss you.
Cold, then hot bath. 2 for 4 today. Miss you, too.
When she wasn’t on stage dancing, singing or going through her lines, she was sitting in the auditorium, thinking up clever texts for Jake. Sometimes they were available at the same time. Those were the best.
Waiting three hours for my dance.
Waiting for rain to stop. Rain delay means I can text. So not so bad.
When I kiss Bart on stage, I pretend he’s you.
Don’t overdo it. He might get ideas.
He’s gay.
Thank God!
Hate sleeping alone.
Hate having sex alone!
Me, too!
They’re rolling up the tarp. Miss you. Love you.
Choreographer arrived. Miss you and love you, too.
What seemed like endless rehearsals ended when opening night loomed. Kate had been focused on getting things right and doing her part perfectly, she had not paid attention to the calendar. Days had blended together into one big run-through with a few moments taken out to eat, sleep, and text Jake.
She woke up that morning with a slightly sick feeling in her stomach. It wasn’t flu or food poisoning, rather first night flurries. Kate recognized the combination of euphoria and total dread mixing in her belly. Opening night! This would be the night that determined everything—success or flop? Great review or total pan? She hit the shower then joined Bart for breakfast.
“I can never eat anything on opening night,” he said, ordering the jumbo breakfast.
Kate ordered bacon and eggs and wondered if any of it would pass by the lump in her throat. When the food arrived, Bart chowed down as if he had been starved for weeks. He consumed bacon, eggs, sausage, a pancake, hash browns and a small serving of fruit salad. Kate’s eyes grew wide as she toyed with her food and watched him.
“See? I mean normally, I eat twice as much,” he said.
She burst out laughing.
“There you go. Feel better?” he asked.
“Yeah. You did that for my benefit?”
“Hell, yes. You looked like you were on your way to the guillotine.”
“That’s how I felt,” she said, taking a forkful of eggs.
“Honey, you can’t perform on an empty stomach. You need fuel. This is no walk in the park. A lot is riding on tonight.”
“Tell me about it. How do you deal with the nerves?” She picked up a piece of bacon.
“I usually go out and get laid.”
`Kate almost spit out her food.
“But since I’m in a relationship, that’s out of the question.” Bart kept a straight face as he polished off the fruit salad.
“It would be great if Jake was here.”
“Got a picture?”
She nodded and swiped on her phone. She had several, including a couple that weren’t for sharing. She pulled up one of him in uniform, holding the bat in his stance, looking determined.
“God, he’s gorgeous!”
“Yes. And I don’t share,” she said, with a smile, picking up her coffee mug.
* * * *
Kate took a short nap, then met the rest of the cast for dinner before the show. When she headed for her dressing room, a member of the crew stopped her.
“A delivery came for you. I hope you don’t mind, but I put it in your dressing room.”
“That’s fine. Thank you.”
Who’s sending me something? She couldn’t imagine what it was until she opened the door. There on her dressing table stood a big vase holding two dozen red roses. She plucked the card off the top and read,
Break a leg tonight. Love you. Jake
She got giddy. Never had she experie
nced this when she opened in small, regional theaters. A queen, a princess, a diva, a Broadway star got roses on opening night, not Kate MacKenzie, little miss nobody!
There was a knock on the door.
“Come in!” she yelled.
A young man with a toolbox under his arm joined her at the table and began the magic of greasepaint and eyeliner to make her look real, onstage. Of course, they didn’t actually use greasepaint anymore, but it sounded authentic.
Confidence, buoyed by her lover’s sentiment, and his flowers, flowed through her veins. As if he had been there to hug her and tell her she was great, his love washed over her. She picked up her phone and checked her watch, then the schedule she’d taped to her mirror. Nope. He was playing right now, no phone call, she sent him a text, instead.
Thank you for the flowers! You’re my All Star. Love you to pieces.
Before she had time to think, another knock on her door and the call, “Five minutes,” spurred her to touch up her hair, smooth down her skirt and head for the door. She stopped to sniff the red blooms once, sucking in the sweet scent of love before she exited to take her place on stage. As the curtain went up, a burst of energy flew through her. In that moment, she knew she could do it.
All her lines, the lyrics, the dance steps, even the kiss with Bart went off without a hitch. If she was going to blow it, it’d be because her performance wasn’t good enough, but not because she forgot anything. Like automatic pilot, everything she had learned flooded back, the way it always did. Fear blended with excitement, creating a new energy. She flew across the stage executing each step perfectly.
Kate connected with Bart, creating chemistry that sizzled and humor that bubbled. Audience laughter and applause spurred them on to the best performances possible. They got five curtain calls and a standing ovation! She floated on air, hugging Bart and every member of the cast. The cast party was down the street.
Combing her hair, Kate grinned in the mirror like a monkey. Although the producers and the show’s backers would care about the reviews, Kate wasn’t worried. She knew she’d done her best and that it was good. The audience has a way of telling you if you’ve succeeded or failed. And this appeared to be a big win.
Her door opened and Bart McQuinn blew in, like a gust of fresh, spring air.
“Darling! You were great. I think we’re a hit! Now let’s go and get drunk.” He settled his attractive butt into a chair.
“Be ready in an instant,” Kate said, removing her makeup with a damp sponge, baby wipes, and soft paper towels.
Her cell rang. Happiness welled up inside her as she grabbed the phone.
“So, how did it go?” Jake asked.
“Great! We got five curtain calls! You would’ve been proud of me,” she said, suddenly breathless.
“I’m always proud of you. That’s terrific! Congratulations.”
“Wish you were here to celebrate.”
“Me, too. We won tonight.”
“Congratulations to you!”
“Yep. But it was nothing compared to your opening night.”
“Your roses helped so much. It was like you were here with me.”
“I’m glad. I love you, Kate. I know the show will be a hit.”
“I’m coming back to you. Don’t forget that.”
“You’d better.”
“Bart’s waiting for me. We have the opening night cast party. I’ve gotta go. Love you with all my heart, darling,” she said, closing her eyes.
“Have a good time, but not too good a time,” he chuckled.
“I won’t.”
“Love you forever, honey,” he said and hung up.
* * * *
Because he had had a night game the day before, Jake slept in until nine the next morning. He sprang out of bed, washed, dressed, and had breakfast in front of his laptop. He searched the net for reviews of Call Me Sunshine. Bam! Pay dirt! He found two listed, one in the Seattle Times and one in the Seattle Post Intelligencer, now an online newspaper. First the Times:
A new star is born! Kate MacKenzie in Call Me Sunshine
shone like a glittering nova in the galaxy. Opening night for
this revival, Miss MacKenzie lit up the stage with her
energy, her beauty and her talent.
He skipped down to the closing paragraph.
We will be looking for more from Miss MacKenzie in the
future. Expect her star to shine over Broadway.
If you’re looking for a bright, fresh play bursting
with music and dancing, Call Me Sunshine, is for you.
The review in the Post-Intelligencer was equally glowing. Happiness and pride filled Jake. He had known she’d be a hit. Worry clouded his thoughts. This meant she wasn’t coming home anytime soon. He sighed. Torn between wanting her to succeed and the desire to have her home warred in his heart.
Was it wrong to love her and want to keep her for himself? Was he being monstrously self-centered? The answer was “yes”, but did he care? Wasn’t love a selfish emotion? Did you want to possess the object of your adoration and not share her with the world? Of course, you did, but what about her? Would that kind of devotion smother her, robbing her of her day in the sun? Wasn’t she entitled to the freedom to seek her own success at something in life that didn’t revolve around him?
He poured himself another cup of coffee. Would he want to be hooked up with a woman who wasn’t her own person? He’d been raised to seek a partner with no ambition beyond being a wife and mother. But being in New York and meeting the women his teammates were dating and marrying had changed his mind.
He could love a woman who only wanted to be his wife and the mother of his children. But a woman who wanted more? Damn, she was exciting! Watching her perform, turned him on. He couldn’t wait until her show overlapped in at least one city so he could see her on stage.
Listening to her clear, stunning voice in the car, then at the audition had humbled him. Sure, he had talent, amazing talent, but here was a woman with the same amount of talent, but in another career. That had knocked him out.
Where could he find another woman like her? Nowhere, and that was the rub. He sighed, realizing he was stuck loving Kate. Because she was the gold standard and nothing less would do. He had a top-of-the-line, talented woman as his partner, his equal, his lover. Soon to be his wife, maybe.
He dressed and headed to the ballfield to work out and practice. They had a three o’clock game. It was already eleven. He needed to get it together. This was number three in the playoffs. The slugger had to be in shape, had to save the game, had to perform at his best. His team, his buddies and Cal Crawley were all counting on him.
Jake parked his car and loped to the gate. He was ready to prove that he was as good as Kate. Well, almost as good. The words of the reviewers rang in his ears. He grinned and shook his head. Who would have thought little Jake Lawrence would have a shot at the World Series and the love of a talented musical theater star? Wouldn’t they be surprised at home?
“Where you been, Jake? Shag a few at me,” Skip said.
In Jake’s opinion, his friend was the best shortstop in the league. And that was saying something, considering how hard short was to play. Jake hit balls for half an hour, then warmed up on the treadmill and the track for half an hour.
They broke for lunch in the clubhouse.
“Kate got great reviews.”
“Reviews?” Skip asked before taking a bite of his sandwich.
“Last night was opening night. In Seattle.” Jake sipped his juice.
“Oh, yeah. Great news.”
“Can we get free tickets to the show?” Nat asked.
“I doubt it. Besides, she’s in Seattle right now. It’ll be a while before she’s back in our area.”
“What’s a while?” Bobby asked.
“Months.”
“Okay, guys. Listen up. We gotta knock off the Sharks. We’re close. Ahead two games to zip. If we win today, then just two more and it’s
the Series.”
The men cheered. Jake was pumped. The team was primed and ready. He knew they could take the Miami team. They had to. Jake wanted the Series so bad he could taste it. And this time they’d win. He knew it. Something about Kate’s success stoked his fires. Bring on the Sharks, he’d harpoon ‘em with his bat. Homerun fever infected Jake Lawrence, and the other team had damn well better look out.
* * * *
The Nighthawks had won the first two games in Miami. Today they had home field advantage. The broadcasters and odds-makers were predicting a ‘Hawks’ sweep. The Miami Sharks came to bat first. Dan Alexander had pitched the first game. It was crucial to win in Florida, but they couldn’t use him because he was still on rest. Cal needed him for the first game of the World Series.
Manny Payton was the starting pitcher for New York. Rodrigo Jimenez started for Miami. Manny struck out the first batter. Jake remembered Matt Jackson’s words after the last game. Seems as if this batter often struck out his first time at bat in a big game.
“He was going for it. Trying too hard’ll kill you every time,” Matt Jackson had said.
Jake nodded, slipping a piece of gum in his mouth. That’s exactly what the idiot had done. The third baseman smiled—he had no objection. He kept his eye on Matt. The catcher signaled him to move a little closer to the bag, which Jake did. Good thing, too, because the second batter shot a line drive right at Jake, who caught it with ease. Two away.
Third batter struck out, too, and the Nighthawks came to bat. Nat Owen started the top of the lineup. He wasn’t a long ball hitter but was pretty reliable in the one-bag hit department. And he was fast. A bit shorter than some of the others, Nat was quick. He and Bobby Hernandez tied for the most stolen bases.
