by Emma Scott
“Every time we come here, our crowd is bigger,” I said, smoothing the front of my own black dress. “They’re going to have to build an addition for next time.”
Sawyer smiled but didn’t reply.
I smiled reassuringly. “Hey, if you’re nervous about meeting my parents, don’t be. They’re going to love you. All of my friends are going to love you.” My eyes widened over his shoulder. “Speaking of friends…”
I let out a little squeal as Beckett held Nopa’s front door open for Zelda.
“Oh my God, you’re here!” I hugged them both at the same time. “You smell like New York.”
“Like urine and cement?” Zelda asked with her usual sarcasm.
“Like a thousand lights and warm rain,” I said, pulling her in for another hug. “I missed you.”
“Missed you too, Dar,” she whispered. “So much.”
“Ten bucks, please,” Beckett said, holding his hand to Zelda, which she swatted away. “I bet her ten bucks she’d be tearing up within the first five minutes,” he said to Sawyer, and offered his hand. “I’m Beckett and this is my emotional fiancée, Zelda.”
“Oh shut up,” she said, but I saw something warm and deep pass between them.
“Good to meet you both,” Sawyer said. “Darlene’s told me a lot about you.”
Zelda’s green eyes stared at Sawyer, and I could tell the sketch she’d made of my boyfriend in her mind didn’t match the one standing in front of her.
“Sawyer, hi,” she said, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you.” She turned her head to me so a curtain of her long black hair shielded her from Sawyer, and mouthed, Are you kidding me?
I mouthed back. I know, right?
They both cooed over Olivia, who immediately grabbed for Zelda’s hair.
“Are you nervous about the show?” Zelda asked, gently extracting Olivia’s little fist. “Chicago…I mean, that’s huge, Dar. I’m so excited for you.”
“Thanks, yeah, I was nervous at first, but now that we’re settling into the run, it’s easier.”
The San Francisco Repertory was doing six weeks of Kander and Ebb’s Chicago at the Orpheum Theater. I auditioned for one of the Merry Murderesses—the prison inmate who shot her husband for popping his gum. It was my dream role, though I would have been happy just to be ensemble in such a big, elaborate production.
But I got the part and had done a week’s worth of shows to find my groove, and now my friends and my parents had flown from New York to see a Sunday matinee.
They filtered in, in pairs: Henrietta and Jackson, Elena and her husband, Alice and Gerald, my sister Carla and her husband, and my mom and dad. A tingle of nerves shot through me when my family arrived that was more potent than the nervousness I’d felt on opening night.
“Darlene, my God, girl! You look like a million bucks.” My sister enveloped me in a perfume and hairspray cloud as she hugged me. “Look at you, I can’t get over it. And you must be Sawyer,” she said, staring. “Wow. Dar. Just wow. And this peach…this must be Olivia.”
Carla introduced her husband, Stan, and then Mom and Dad were there, hugging me.
“She’s right,” my dad said. “You look like a million bucks, kiddo.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” I heaved a breath. “Mom and Dad, this is Sawyer and Olivia.”
The men shook hands and I thought I saw a glimpse of nervousness dance over Sawyer’s brown eyes. Then my mother smacked a kiss on his cheek, and the entire front area dissolved into laughter and loud talk.
The hostess came back and offered to take us to our table. I lingered behind, looking to the front entrance that was crowded with brunch customers. And then I saw him—tall and with the summer sun glinting off the gel in his hair.
I pushed my way through the crowd, and threw my arms around my friend.
“Max,” I said against his leather jacket.
“Hey, Dar,” he said, holding me tight. “Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not late, you’re right on time. And I don’t even care; you’re here, and that’s all that matters.”
He glanced down at me. “Look at you. A Merry Murderess. Holy shit. Did you know Chicago is one of my all-time favorite musicals?”
I made a gun with my index and thumb, and sneered, “If you pop that gum one more time…”
“Jesus, Dar, you gave me the chills.” He held out his shaking hands. “Look at this shit? Christ, I can’t wait to see you in this.”
My murderous expression vanished. “Thank you, Max. Now come on, I need to share the awesomeness that is you with the rest of my people.”
I brought Max to our table that was already seated and embarrassed him by making a show of introducing him to everyone. I sat him down with Beckett and Zelda at one end of the table. Sawyer sat across from me. I was beside Olivia, who was scribbling with crayon on a sheet of coloring paper. On the other side of her highchair was my sister, Carla and her husband who was on his phone watching baseball, until she smacked his wrist and told him to put it away.
The waiter came to take our drink order, offering mimosas. Most of our party took her up on that but I abstained, as did Max.
“None for me,” Sawyer said, giving me a smile.
“None for me either,” Zelda said.
“And I’ll abstain too, out of solidarity,” Beckett said, and they shared another look over the table.
“Solidarity for what?” I asked.
They exchanged another glance. “Nothing,” Zelda said quickly, and they both looked like they were biting back smiles.
My eyes widened and my heart felt like it would burst. “Oh my God…Zelda? Are you…?”
Zelda flapped a hand. “No, hush, this is your day.”
I ignored her and turned to Beckett. “Well?”
His proud grin told me everything. “Yes. She is. We’re going to have a baby.”
“Holy shit!” I screamed and nearly toppled my chair to get to her as the table raised their glasses in cheers. I hugged her and tears were shed all around.
“How far along?” I asked.
“Ten weeks,” Zelda said. “We weren’t going to say anything until after your show, but this one—” she tossed her napkin at Beckett—“can’t keep a secret to save his life.”
Beckett held out his hands. “What can I say? I’m too damn happy to keep it quiet.”
“You should be,” I said. “I’m so happy for you both.”
I chatted with them for a while, then sat back down in my seat, flushed with happiness and found Sawyer looking at me from across the table with an expression I couldn’t identify.
“It’s such great news, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “Absolutely.”
The food orders were taken, and talk and laughter rolled over the table in waves and swells. Olivia entertained everyone with her ability to count to twenty and recite her ABCs. At one point, Sawyer moved to sit at an empty chair near my dad, and I heard them talking about my dad’s business and Sawyer’s job as Clerk of the Court for Judge Miller. Of course, Sawyer had passed the bar with an outrageous score of 1990 out of a possible 2000. He was modest as all heck about it, but he’d worked so hard for so long and I was so proud of him. And proud of myself, for being here. For making it to this moment, with these people I loved best.
I bent my head to find Max and met his eye. I didn’t have to say a word. He nodded once, and smiled, and I knew he understood.
After we ate, dessert was offered and Sawyer was back in his chair across from me.
“You’re so quiet today,” I said, leaning toward him and taking his hand. “Everything all right?”
He nodded. “It’s perfect.”
The desserts were served but I abstained from them too. The last thing I needed before the show was a sugar rush.
“Ma! Hey, Mama,” Carla called to our mother over a table of talk. “You have to split this tiramisu with me. I can’t do it alone.”
“Where Mama?” Olivia asked.
�
�What’s that, hon?” Carla said, leaning sideways to Olivia while she prepped her coffee.
“Where Mama?”
“Oh, she’s my mama.” Carla pointed at our mother with her spoon. “That’s my mama, right there,”
“Ohhh,” Olivia said. “Das my mama righ’ dare!” she said, and she pointed straight to me.
The whole table stopped, conversations ceased. I felt warm all over, as if a ray of sunlight suddenly fell over me, turning everything gold and soft.
My gaze jumped to Sawyer. He gave a short, disbelieving laugh, his mouth open in shock but wanting to smile.
“What did you say, honey?” he asked Olivia.
“Mama,” Olivia said, hooking a little chocolate-covered finger my way again. “Darlene my mama.” She said as if this were common knowledge and went back to eating her cake, completely unaware of the knowing laughs and teasing that swept through the rest of the table.
The Abbotts stared in surprise, and a pang of fear shot through me, certain they must be saddened for Molly, that she wasn’t here to share in this happiness, and that Olivia had given her title to someone else. To me.
“I didn’t tell her…” I said. “I mean, she’s never called me that before…”
I held my breath until they both smiled, Alice with her hand over her heart. “It’s okay,” she told me. “It hurts and yet it’s perfectly right. Does that make sense?”
I nodded, tears in my eyes. “Yeah, it does.”
“Oh jeez, Dar,” my sister said, breaking the solemn moment. She spooned sugar into her coffee. “A mama. You ready for that?”
Jackson was less subtle. He bellowed a great laugh and clapped his hands. “Thatta girl, Livvie! Up top.”
He reached across the table to high five the two-year old. Henrietta swatted his arm down.
“You hush. This is personal between them, and you have no cause to say a word.”
Henrietta’s word was law, and everyone went back to their conversations.
Jackson chuckled and shot me a wink, but I didn’t feel like laughing. I leaned over the table to Sawyer.
“I didn’t say a word, I promise. She only ever calls me Darlene. I—”
“It’s okay,” he said, a strange smile on his lips. “We live together. It was inevitable that she’d bond with you even more than she had already.’”
“I know, but I know you don’t want to confuse her…”
“Darlene,” Sawyer said. “It’s fine.”
I nodded and sat straight in my chair, the beautiful happiness I’d felt at Olivia’s words fading to leave my stomach twisting in knots.
The last few days Sawyer had been acting funny. He was in his head a lot, and not talking as much as usual. And today, he’d been so quiet and subdued. As the others ate their dessert and drank their coffee, I found myself going back over the last few days trying to find something that could be amiss. But I had to keep going, back and back, as this year had been the most incredible of my life.
I’d been able to find big parts in small shows so that my massage work was mostly freelance to make extra income. And now I’d had a small-ish role in a really big show. And the day I told Sawyer, his eyes had widened and the pure joy and happiness for me felt as good as getting the part.
Rachel had returned from her Greenpeace tour wanting her apartment back. After many long talks, I moved in with Sawyer and Olivia. We both wanted to protect Olivia, but we were so much in love, the idea of something going wrong between us seemed impossible. We were happy. I wondered sometimes how it was possible to feel so happy with Sawyer and Olivia, and building a life with a man and his little girl was something I’d never imagined I wanted, and now couldn’t imagine living without.
I glanced at Sawyer across the table. Jackson leaned in to tell him a joke but Sawyer only smiled, a far-off expression on his face. My stomach twisted a little more. Was this the slow fade I’d seen before? No big drama, no blow up fights…
You’re being ridiculous, I told myself, but I’d seen it too many times. And that impossible happiness…maybe it was just that. Too impossible to last.
I got up from my seat and moved down the table to where Max was talking with Beckett.
“Excuse me,” I said, “but I need to borrow this guy for minute.”
I tugged Max to his feet and drew him away from the table, to the bathroom alcove.
“Help! How do you shut down overthinking?”
Max looked dashing in a suit he wore with a black leather jacket instead of a coat. “That’s the secret to life,” he said with a grin. “If I knew that, I’d have written it down and I’d be on Oprah right now.”
I bit my lip.
His teasing smile fled. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing. I’m jumping to conclusions…or, not even that. I don’t know what to think.” I looked up at him, tears coming to my eyes. “I’ve been so happy and that stupid little voice is back. You know the one? It whispers in your ear that everything good is going to go away soon.”
He nodded. “I know the voice. That little fucker talks to me. Frequently.” He smiled gently at me. “But don’t talk back. Don’t feed it. That’ll get you nowhere. If you’re concerned about something with Sawyer, talk to Sawyer.”
I nodded. “You’re right. I know you’re right.” I sucked in a breath. I was stronger than this. I’d come so far, and I couldn’t let nagging doubt get the best of me. I wasn’t the girl who thought a man being upset with her meant the end.
“You’re still as wise as ever,” I said, as we walked back to the table. “I just…got scared.”
“That’ll happen. Just don’t let it stay.”
I kissed his cheek and sat back down. Sawyer was watching me.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I wanted to ask you the same,” I said. Jackson laughed loudly at something Gerald said, and I flinched. “But not here. After lunch?”
He smiled warmly and nodded, and I felt a little better.
At the Orpheum theatre, outside the back entrance, I hugged and kissed everyone and they all told me to break a leg.
“Hey, Dar,” Jackson said. “You know that’s just a figure of speech, right?”
“Such a comedian,” I said with a laugh and a roll of my eyes.
I hugged Alice who was holding Olivia. “I’m going to keep her occupied until your big number,” she said, “then come out and watch.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Just cover her eyes over the naughty bits.” I bent to kiss Olivia’s cheek. “Bye-bye, sweet pea.”
“Bye-bye, Mama.”
My heart clenched again.
“She’s a smart cookie, this one,” Alice said with a knowing smile. “Once she gets a notion in her head, it’s hard to get it out. Just like her daddy.”
She inclined her head at Sawyer who was last to wish me luck before the show. The rest of our people moved away and we were alone.
“She did it again with the Mama, thing,” I said. “Sawyer…”
Without a word, he slipped his arms around my waist and kissed me, the kind of kiss that never failed to steal the strength form my legs so that I melted against him. I did then, my arms ringing his neck to keep upright as his hands slid up into my hair, and then down to my cheek. He held my face and broke the kiss, his eyes so beautiful and dark as they bored into mine.
“I love you, Darlene,” he said.
“I love you too,” I whispered. “And I’m so happy with you. And with Olivia.”
“Are you?” he asked, a ragged breath chasing his words. “Truly? I know it’s a lot to take…living with a kid…”
“No, I love her to pieces, and I love you so damn much, I feel like my heart’s going to burst. But I get scared sometimes.”
“I do too,” he said, his brows furrowed. “I worry that it’s all going to go away…this happiness.”
“Yes! Me too,” I said, clutching the lapels of his jacket. “What do we do?”
He smiled, his thumb running over
my bottom lip. “We make sure it doesn’t. We hold on, right?”
I nodded through tears. “Yes. We do.”
“We do,” he said. “Together.” Sawyer kissed me again, then inclined his head at the stage entrance door. “I don’t want you to be late. You’re amazing, and I’m so damn happy your friends and family are here to see this. You deserve it all, Darlene. All of it.”
I threw my arms around him and kissed him hard, then swept into the theater, my heart full, and a huge grin on my face.
There is no slow fade. What we have is real.
I went to the dressing area, where the rest of the cast greeted me with cheerful smiles and high fives. The other Merry Murderesses—six of us who performed the Cell Block Tango to tell the story of how we ended up in jail for murdering our husbands—were like sisters to me. I belonged here, just as much as I did in my NA meetings where I was attendee and sponsor, both.
I changed into my costume—tight black dance shorts, black nylons, black knee boots, and a black halter top that left my midriff bare. I put on my dark eye make up and red lips; then a hairdresser brushed out my hair and tousled it so it looked like a man’s hands had just been in it.
The show began and I waited for my number. The Cell Block Tango. I had the first line, “Pop”, that began a series of key words from each of the Merry Murderesses, and if I didn’t hit my cue every time, the entire song would be off tempo.
But everyone I knew and loved was watching me. I didn’t want to disappoint them, and as the emcee announced the song, I felt a glowing well of strength in me. Not stiff and unbending, but molten and hot so that I could dance. So that I could tell the story with my body, and give everything that I had to it. Because I had a lot to give, and I’d finally found it.
The energy was running high for a matinee, and we danced the hell out of Cell Block Tango, and after the sound effect of a prison door slamming shut boomed across the stage, the crowd erupted into cheers that carried me on a tide of joy to the end of the musical.
As the last number ended, the crowd grew thunderous—a rolling swell of appreciation and excitement that barreled through the theatre with whistles and applause and hollering.
I stood just offstage with my other Merry Murderesses, waiting for our cue for the curtain call. “Standing O,” one said. “Not bad for a matinee.”
