“Move to New York.”
“What?”
“When your contract with the show is up, I mean. You should move to New York.”
“Are you going to be in New York?”
“Yes. Well, that’s my home base anyway. I’m not saying we should move in together yet, but I think it would be really good, you know? We should be in the same city if we want to try and do this right.” She looked nervous and it was utterly adorable. “You don’t have to answer right now. You can think it over.”
Adrienne saw a possible future for us and that meant everything to me. I was filled with several emotions all at once, happiness, relief, but the desire to kiss her perfectly full lips won out. She withdrew and held my gaze, the smile on her face reaching to the corners of her eyes and crinkling the skin there.
“Is that a yes?”
“I can’t imagine anything better than us in New York.”
“That sounds like a yes to me!” Adrienne cupped my face in her hands and I celebrated our decision with a deep, languid exploration of her mouth, which set off more than just the alarm clock. So much for getting up, I chuckled to myself.
Chapter Five
Things just seemed off. We were midway through Act II, and I was struggling. The stage lights seemed extra bright and the dull throbbing at my temples seemed to increase in intensity moment by moment. As I executed a quick change in the stage right wings, I wondered if I had enough time to run back to my dressing room for an Excedrin before my next entrance. Probably not a good idea to risk it. Adrienne was in the home stretch of her eleven o’clock number and I was due back onstage as soon as she finished for the final scene of the show. I could hold on. The strap on my shoe had a habit of digging into my ankle, and as I leaned down to adjust it, I heard the gasps. I snapped to attention and followed the stares of those around me to the stage. Adrienne was down on the floor, a wild look on her face, as she held tightly to her knee. I abruptly stood. Every muscle in my body went rigid, and I grabbed hold of Kyle’s arm next to me. “What happened?” I managed, my mouth immediately dry.
“As she spun and landed, her leg gave way from beneath her. She went down hard.”
My mind went white with terror. My first instinct was go to Adrienne and see how badly she was hurt and do something, anything to help. As I began to move forward, I felt strong arms hold me back.
“Let’s let Craig make the call. She might be fine. Give her a minute,” Kyle whispered, though concern was clearly written across his face. I blinked hard a few times as each second crawled by. I looked to Craig at the stage manager’s table and could see he was also trying to assess the situation and decide whether he needed to stop the show. Meanwhile, the band played on. I wasn’t sure the audience even knew anything was amiss. Craig was speaking in quiet tones into his headset, but with the music in full swing, I couldn’t decipher what instructions he was giving the crew. My attention darted back to the stage and Adrienne. She had pulled herself into a standing position and began to sing with the band, who had vamped in her vocal absence. I studied her closely. It looked to me like she had all her weight on her left foot and held her right positioned to where only her toes touched the floor. I could tell she was hurt but was also reassured by the fact that she seemed determined to finish the show. Maybe her injury was minor, just a small sprain. As she finished the last notes of the song, Craig nodded to me to make my entrance, as scheduled, for the last scene.
When I got close enough to Adrienne to look into her eyes, any remaining hope I had that she was okay was dashed. The expression on her face, though guarded, told me clearly there was something very wrong. She was in pain and was doing an amazing job of hiding that fact from the two thousand people watching us. I wanted to pick her up and get her out of there, but found myself in a difficult situation where I knew I had to remain level-headed and professional.
The scene began, and it wasn’t long before it became apparent to me that Adrienne had abandoned all of the planned movement in the scene. Things were looking bleak. For some stupid reason, I thought adding lots of extra movement for my character would compensate and help cover the situation. I wound up crossing from one side of the stage to the other, probably looking ridiculous and much the over-actress. So much for quick thinking under pressure. But somehow we made it through the entire scene. Only Adrienne’s final number in the show remained. I was hesitant to leave her alone out there, but it would make no sense for Alexis, the defeated villain, to stay onstage for the triumphant ending of the show. Reluctantly, I exited and watched anxiously from the wings.
I stood there, counting the moments until the end of the show when we could figure out what was wrong and take care of Adrienne. As I watched and waited, I couldn’t help but notice how amazing she still sounded, despite the pain she had to be in. She was clearly that good of a performer.
As the stage lights faded to black and the audience erupted into thunderous applause, Kyle and I raced onto the darkened stage and found Adrienne. We placed one of her arms around each of our necks and carried her safely into the wings. With the aid of several other cast members, we were able to clear a spot on the floor and gently set her down. I immediately knelt and noticed the fresh tears. Gone was the poise and control she’d exhibited onstage, and in front of me was a vulnerable girl in a hell of a lot of pain. The tears flowed freely down her face now, and she was choking back sobs. She reached for me, squeezing my shoulder tightly. “I don’t know what happened. I landed the spin and felt this crazy intense pain around my knee, and then I went down.” She looked completely devastated, and I felt so helpless.
“Shh,” I said, brushing the tears from her cheek. “You’re going to be okay. We’re going to take care of you.” Georgette’s voice from behind me caught my attention, reminding me I had to be back onstage in mere moments for curtain call. Damn. I kissed her forehead. “Age, I’ll be right back.”
I made my way to the stage for my final bow, greeting the audience with as much of a smile as I could manage under the circumstances. It seemed understood by everyone that Adrienne would not be able to appear at curtain call, so as the band crescendoed into Evan’s entrance music, we joined hands and accepted what would have been Adrienne’s thunderous applause. This was surely confirmation for the audience that something had happened to the star of the show. As a cast, however, we plastered smiles on our faces and presented a united front.
The curtain at last came down and the backstage work lights came on. Everyone moved about with stricken looks on their faces. Some did their best to stay out of the way while others jumped right in to offer assistance. I made a beeline back to Adrienne and found Sienna already there, sitting behind her, and stroking her hair. I did my damndest not to roll my eyes, or give in to my jealous side and punch her in the face. Instead, I tried to redirect my focus where it was most needed. I sat next to Adrienne, took her hand, and looked immediately to Craig, our leader, to step in and take control. As if reading my thoughts, he met my gaze. “It looks pretty swollen already. It could be serious. I’m going to call an ambulance. I think it’s best if—”
But he didn’t get to finish. Adrienne interrupted and spoke slowly and with purpose. “Absolutely not.” Though tears still marred her face, it was clear she intended to stay in control of this situation. “If you call an ambulance to the theater now, with audience members still in the lobby, and fans at the stage door, you might as well ask for a Channel Nine escort. I’d rather do this as low-key as possible. I think I can make it to the van if you’ll help me.”
Craig nodded. With a bit of coordination and a discreet exit through a side door, we were on our way to the emergency room.
The headache that had faded to the background once Adrienne was injured showed up again with a vengeance as I sat in the hospital waiting room, wondering what was taking so long. They had taken her back for X-rays over an hour ago, but I had yet to hear anything from anyone. Craig was outside making calls, probably to the producers, try
ing to set up plan B, C, and D, depending on the doctor’s assessment. I studied the room and the people around me. Most were drawn and tired, as if they’d been there half their lives already. Some looked anxious, waiting for news of their loved ones, while others looked simply sad, already aware of a gloomy prognosis. I noticed I was catching quite a few stares and realized that although I had changed into jeans and a sweatshirt before leaving the theater, I still had my full show makeup on. My resemblance to a streetwalker had to be uncanny. After all, it was past one a.m.
I excused myself to the ladies’ room and stared at myself in the mirror. I also looked tired, anxious, and worried. If this injury was as bad as it looked, Adrienne couldn’t continue with the show. With a long recovery period, there would be no point for her to travel with us. Her contract would be cancelled and she would leave the tour immediately, unable to resume performances. I wasn’t ready for that. We were still new and needed this time to develop our relationship. I wanted every minute of that expected time together.
I splashed cold water on my face, scrubbing the makeup away and watching myself return to normal once again. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and made my way back down the hall.
A nurse rounded the corner and looked at me quizzically. “Is your name Jenna?”
I nodded.
“Ms. Kenyon is asking for you. She’s in room 212 down the hall to the right. Dr. Kahn will be in to speak with her shortly.” I thanked her and made my way there, wasting no time.
I entered the room slowly, as hospitals always made me a little nervous. Adrienne was alone, lying in the bed with her knee propped up on two pillows. Her eyes were closed, and her dark hair was fanned out across the pillow. She looked a little pale but also angelic. I approached her and brushed my hand across her forehead. Her eyes opened and found mine, holding them for a moment, a small smile reaching her lips.
“Hey you. How’s the patient?” I asked quietly.
“Much better now. They have some nice drugs at this place. We should come back here.”
I raised my eyebrow and nodded at her, amused. “I’m feeling a little loopy, I’m afraid. But my knee feels a million times better.” Her eyes closed again but not before she took my hand. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered.
“Rest until the doctor comes. I’m not going anywhere.” And she did. I watched her sleep and stroked the back of her hand with my thumb. I was more than a little terrified of what was to come.
Dr. Khan had a lot of energy for two in the morning, and upon entering the room, he completely took it over. “Well, well, well now. What do we have here? Are you an actress as well?” he practically shouted, once he spotted me across the room. I nodded and smiled at him politely to keep from adding to the noise in the room. Adrienne was now wide-awake, however, and looked eager for information. She did her best to push herself into a sitting position without disturbing her knee and I repositioned her pillow, making it easier.
“Well, we are thrilled to have you all,” Dr. Khan continued. “I guess not thrilled because these aren’t the best of conditions now, are they? But happy to be of service is more like it.”
I started to feel like this guy might be better suited for children’s birthday parties, but I went with it.
Adrienne squeezed my hand and I knew she was nervous. “What did the test show?” she asked.
“About that, I have good news and bad news.” He positioned the MRI reading on his clipboard and turned it around to face us. I swallowed hard, squinting at the image. I didn’t want any bad news. I was hoping for a sprain at most.
“The good news is the damage isn’t permanent. As a dancer, I know that’s important. But the bad news is there is a noteworthy injury to your right knee.”
“What kind of injury?” she asked calmly.
“You have a rather substantial tear to your anterior cruciate ligament.” He gestured to the solid black band on the image.
Fuck. Adrienne had torn her ACL. This was a common dance injury that had sidelined several promising performers I’d known at school. I knew from experience the recovery time could be considerable.
“So I’m out,” she said quietly, fixing her gaze on the wall.
“You will require treatment and recovery time, yes, but don’t you worry, young lady. I can recommend you to the best. Those docs—”
“Will I require surgery?” she interrupted. She still wasn’t looking at him.
“Well, surgery on the ligament is not one hundred percent necessary, but it is highly recommended for those who live an active lifestyle, such as yourself. With ligament reconstruction and rehabilitation, you could easily attain full function again. Good as new.”
“And the recovery period?” I asked.
“It’s hard to say. Everyone heals differently, but four to six months is average. The main goal is to achieve full range of motion, and that will require physical therapy and a post surgical knee brace.”
I looked back at Adrienne, and the image about broke my heart in two. A tear made its way down her cheek and she just looked…helpless. I sat next to her on the bed.
“Hey,” I whispered. “You’re not down for the count. We’re gonna take care of you and get you right back where you want to be. You have a lot of offers out there waiting for you. You know that.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s over,” she said. “Working on this show has been the most gratifying experience of my career, and I didn’t even know I was giving my final performance.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. She was right. This was a horrible way to go out, and my heart ached for her. None of the encouraging words I could offer were going to help her in this moment. Instead, I wrapped my arms around her to let her know I was there for her. It was all I could do.
Adrienne thanked Dr. Kahn and accepted the information packet he supplied her with, listing all of her do’s and don’ts as well as the name of a great orthopedic surgeon in New York. She was going back to New York. One knee brace, two crutches, and a few extra painkillers later, we quietly exited the emergency room. It came as quite a shock when a flashbulb went off in our faces as Craig and I helped Adrienne to the van.
“How did they know?” I eyed the lone cameraman who continued to snap away.
“Message boards, I’m guessing,” Craig said.
And he was right too. As Adrienne dozed on the ride back to the hotel, I decided to see what everyone was saying online. Using my phone to pull up Broadwayscene.com, I was shocked to see so many threads dedicated to what had happened at the performance. While several of the posters reported exaggerated versions of the events, having heard from a “friend” who was there, others were more concerned for Adrienne’s well-being. It was nice to know the fans cared. I would make a point to show her all the get-well wishes posted online later. It was still a little mind-blowing how quickly information got out there, whether it was true or not. I sat back in my seat and stared out at the stars, wondering what was to come.
*
It was six forty-five in the evening and almost time for me to leave for the theater. I knew full well Lanie was waiting downstairs to walk with me, but I didn’t feel like leaving. Adrienne’s flight home was in a little over two hours. She would be in the air before the start of Act II. Stewart would take her to the airport and help her to her flight, while her mother would pick her up in New York and stay with her until she was feeling more mobile.
“Hey,” she said quietly from the chair by the window. “Almost time for you to head out, isn’t it?” I turned to meet her gaze. She smiled sweetly and I felt tears spring into my eyes. “Oh no, don’t start. I finally got my waterworks under control.” Truth be told, we’d spent a quiet but wonderful afternoon together interspersed with moments of emotion, when we remembered this was our last day together for a while. But it was too late. Adrienne’s eyes now sported fresh teardrops. She pushed herself into a standing position and held her arms out to me. I moved into them without hesitation and we stoo
d like that, holding on to each other for the longest time.
“You better call me,” she said.
“Of course I will. I’ll be your own personal stalker. Now don’t go having too much fun in the big city either. I don’t want to see crazy tabloid photos of you and that knee brace on top of a bar somewhere.”
We laughed at that image. I pulled back from her and took her hands, fighting the stupid lump in my throat in order to get out what I needed to say. “These past two months, Adrienne, have meant a lot to me. Now that you’re leaving, I know there’s a possibility you’ll move on with your life, and if that happens I just want you to know that—”
“Shh. There’s no need for that. I’m not an easy one to get rid of, you know. We made a plan for New York when your five months are up and I’ll visit as soon as I can. Now please go to your show before I lose it all over again.”
I pulled her into an embrace, careful not to push against her injured leg. Adrienne placed her arms around my neck and kissed me thoroughly and deeply. I made every attempt to memorize those lips. “Until next time,” I whispered into her ear then turned and walked out of the room.
Silent tears streamed down my face on the ten minute walk to the theater. Lanie held my hand the whole way, but said nothing. I knew I would have to pull it together for the show, but in the meantime, I let myself feel what was still so raw. I missed her already. As I saw the stage door take shape in the distance, I began to wipe the tears from my face and took several deep, cleansing breaths. The show must go on.
Chapter Six
Adrienne’s understudy, Tara Wilkerson, had been temporarily playing the role of Evan for the past month as we rolled through Miami, Kansas City, and New Orleans. She was definitely no Adrienne, but she did a decent enough job, I guess. The official replacement had yet to be named by production. If you believed the message boards, an announcement was forthcoming. It seemed like those boards knew things before we did.
Waiting in the Wings Page 10
