“I have press interviews with the Times, the Daily News, and a few nationals and television stations on Saturday.”
“Darn! And I was going to invite you out here for the weekend to relax.”
“That sounds good. I have Saturday night until Monday noon off.”
“How come?”
“We’re moving into the theatre, and call isn’t until three. I think we have to get used to working evenings.”
“Great.”
“I probably need to rest up. We’ll be in dress rehearsals the next week and then we open.”
“Then come out here and rest. I can pick you up Saturday afternoon. I have to get some more of my clothes out of there.”
“Sounds good to me,” Marie said thoughtfully. “The press thing starts at one. I should be done by three at the latest.”
“Okay. Do you want to bring Jackie with you?”
“Christine…”
“It was just a thought.”
“It’s not a thought yet.”
“Then get on the ball. Are you going to wait until the show closes?”
Marie took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I think she has a boyfriend.”
“Don’t wait too long.”
* * * *
Saturday afternoon was hectic for the principles in the cast. There was a large audience of journalists, from newspapers and magazines in print, radio, and television. Jackie, Marie, and Bill got most of the questions, but Rod and Andy got plenty of the laughs. Michael was questioned about how this compared to the other shows he’d been in.
“This cast is very relaxed, and we have a lot of fun. It has a woman playing the male lead and two men playing bridesmaids.”
“Maids-of-Honor,” Rod interrupted. That evoked laughter.
“How could you not have fun?”
“Then this is a comedy?” a journalist asked.
“Sometimes. I think you’ll find a wide range of emotions in this script.”
“And this is the Cinderella story, correct?” someone else asked.
“Sort of,” Kent hedged. “This is the before-and-after story. It’s really the prince’s story. We don’t get into Ella’s transformation from drab to gorgeous, and there are no fairy godmother or seamstress field mice. We follow the prince as he grows from a callow young lad to a conniving man. It sort of answers the question: is there really a happily-ever-after?”
“Is this a happy ending or not?”
Bill answered. “It depends on your point of view. You’ll have to decide for yourselves.”
The questions seemed to go on and on, but the cast kept some of the secrets.
“Can’t you tell us the ending?” one of the reporters asked.
“Then you wouldn’t have to buy tickets.”
“Actually, none of us know the ending.” Jackie smirked.
That led to another myriad of questions that weren’t really answered.
As they all got ready to go home, Jackie rushed off with the mystery guy again.
* * * *
Chris was waiting when Marie got home. She threw some things into her overnight case and followed Chris down to her car. Chris carried a large box of clothes.
“How long does your contract last?” Chris asked.
“Three months, but it’s renewable.”
Chris sighed. “Talk to me,” she said. “What’s this about a boyfriend?”
“I saw some guy drop her off one morning, and she rushed off with him another time after rehearsals. She left with him this afternoon. They looked kind of close.”
Chris glanced over at her. “Friendship close or lover close?”
“If it was just friendship, they’ve known each other a very long time.”
“Has she mentioned him?”
“The only men she’s talked about were her twin brother who lives in Philly and a Puerto Rican friend who lives upstairs from her. This guy wasn’t Puerto Rican. He was definitely a white guy with sandy brown hair.”
“Well, just because she hugged him doesn’t make him a lover.”
“But this was the third time I’ve seen her with him in three weeks.”
“Hey, you’ve seen me three times in three weeks, and we’re not lovers.”
“But she hugged him and blew him a kiss.”
“Are you looking for problems? Has she hugged you?”
“Yes, she has. We’re getting close. We go out to lunch or dinner, and we sometimes share a cab home. She’d friendly! Sometimes, she’s almost too touchy-feely.”
“Too touchy-feely?” Chris sounded amazed. “Isn’t that what you want? Are you being touchy-feely back?”
There was another telling silence.
“Have you mentioned gay or lesbian relationships to her?”
Marie nodded. “I told her about you and Car.”
“How did she react?”
“Like it was normal.”
Chris glanced over at her. “Tell her, for God’s sake. She may surprise you. It’s never too late…”
“Here we go again. Just take me home.”
“Okay, okay. I won’t say another word.”
“Can I use your piano?”
“Of course.” Chris smiled. “Need help?”
“Sure!”
“Then let’s go.”
* * * *
Chris and Marie went right up to the terrace outside the main bedroom.
“A drink? I brought the rum and vodka up here,” Chris asked with a smile.
“Just what I need,” Marie commented. “Have you ever heard of a Caipirinha cocktail?”
Chris shook her head. “Never heard of it.”
“It’s a very famous drink in Brazil.”
“What’s it made with?”
“Cachaca,”
“Ca-what-ca?”
Marie laughed. “I had it when I went to that Brazilian restaurant with Ashley. It was really good. Almost like rum but smoother.”
“Sounds good. Where do you get it?”
“I haven’t checked.” Marie fell silent.
“What brought that up?” Chris asked.
“I was thinking about Ashley.”
Chris looked at her suspiciously. “I thought you had enough of Ashley,” she said softly.
Marie nodded. “Just thinking of other options.”
Chris turned and put her hands on her hips. “You’re giving up on Jackie without even trying?”
“Oh, I don’t know. If she’s straight, there’s no future there. I’m not about to bring someone out. That’s too much responsibility.”
“You don’t know if you have to bring her out. You only saw her hug one man. There could be any number of reasons. Maybe he’s a relative or someone she hasn’t seen in a while. Don’t give up before you even try.”
When no response came, Chris pushed on. “Jacolby, you are a pain in the ass…and a coward. You’re gonna give up on what you really want just because she hugged someone? Damn! I hug people all the time, and so do you.”
“But the look on her face…”
“So? It could have meant anything. You’ll never know for sure until you find out from her.”
“Let’s just forget it,” Marie said softly.
“No! What if you have it all wrong? What if he was a cousin she hadn’t seen in a while?”
Marie didn’t reply.
“What if she’s waiting for you to make the first move?” Chris again waited for a reaction, but it never came. “Well?”
“Shut up, Christine. Let it go. Can I go use the music room?’
Chris took a deep breath and nodded. “You don’t have to ask. If it’s here, you can use it.”
Chapter 15
Tuesday morning, of week four, Marie walked into the little coffee bar around the corner from where she usually boarded the subway. She always stopped in there for a cup of coffee on the mornings she was too late to make her own at home. She hadn’t been in there for almost a month.
“Yo, Marie!” one of the
baristas called when he saw her walk in.
“Hey, Geordi,” she answered as she gave him a big smile. “How’re you doing?”
“I’m great,” he answered. “You haven’t been in for quite a while. I was hoping you hadn’t gotten fired.”
“Nope. Not fired. I quit,” she answered.
“Quit? What are you doing? Do you have another job, or did you find a rich lover?” He grinned at her as he reached for a cup to make her favorite coffee.
“I got a part in a Broadway show. We open for previews next week.”
“Wow. And it pays enough that you could quit your day job?”
Marie smiled. “It sure does. I have the lead.” She slid onto one of the stools in front of the counter.
“The lead? Wow. That’s really something. Are you going to be famous?”
“I hope so.”
“What show?”
“Ella’s Charming Prince,” she answered.
“I’ve been seeing the signs about that. Are you Ella?”
“Nope. I’m the prince.” She was quite proud.
“Is it a lesbian show?” he asked. “I don’t think it says that on the advertising.”
Marie laughed. “I wish. No, I play a young prince in drag. It’s really the Cinderella story.”
“Are you in those advertisements?”
Marie nodded and chuckled. “Sort of. You can see the back of my head while I’m kissing Ella. And that’s me staring into her eyes.”
“That’s you? I didn’t recognize you. You look like a guy.”
“Yup. It’s me.”
Geordi placed the cup of macchiato in front of her. “Really? With the fairy godmother and the mice?”
“No. That’s the Disney version. This is the before-and-after story. I play the young prince who’s always in trouble. The king makes him get married so he’ll settle down. The Second Act is after the wedding.”
“Wow. I gotta see that.” He turned around to yell to the other barista at the back of the shop. “Hey, Tom! Our Marie is going to be a star! Remember that show we were talking about yesterday? Ella’s Charming Prince? Well, Marie is going to be the prince.”
Tom stopped what he was doing and walked over. “The prince?”
“Yes, it’s really the opera version. In the first act, the Prince is a teenager, so my voice fits in.”
“Wow. We gotta see that.” Tom looked around at the few other customers. “We have a star in our business. This is Marie, and she’s going to star on Broadway.”
Most looked up. One or two said congratulations and then went back to their coffee. Like most New Yorkers, they weren’t impressed by a celebrity.
“Will you sign one of our ads so I can brag I wait on you?” Geordi asked.
“Geordi! I’ve never been asked for an autograph.”
“Well, you’d better get used to it if you’re the lead. Everyone will want your autograph. Come on, I want the very first one.” He slid a copy of their take-out menu across the counter to her with a pen.
“It feels funny doing this. I guess I do have to get used to it, huh?” She signed her name across the bottom of the menu with The Prince after it.
“Yes. You’d better.” He looked at it. “Your last name’s Jacolby? I didn’t know that, and you’ve been coming in here for almost six months.”
“Well, I guess I’ll be coming in here more often. I finally got the sub-let on that apartment down on Twenty-Second. Now that I’ll be making more money, I’ll be able to come in here much more often.”
“We’ll put an ad for the show in our window with your picture. Can we do that?”
“Sure,” Marie said as she shook her head in wonder. “I’ll see if I can get you a poster.”
“Yeah!” Geordi looked ecstatic. “We got a star coming in here. Think what that’ll do for business. Remember what happened to that shop on Thirty-Third when Tom Walters started getting his coffee there? Their sales went through the roof. People just camped out there, hoping he’d come in.”
Tom Walters was the star of a crime show that had premiered this past fall. He was the new sex symbol of the airwaves.
“Well, I’m not Tom Walters,” Marie admitted with a sly smile.
“You’ll be the sex symbol of the boards.”
“No, that would be the woman who plays Ella.”
“Do you get to kiss her?”
Marie laughed. “For five minutes without stopping.”
“Then that’s better than the Disney story. They just smiled at each other and held hands.”
“I know, but that was for kids. This one isn’t.”
“Do you get to do the deed?”
“Not in the show.”
“In your apartment?”
Marie shook her head and took a deep breath before sipping her macchiato. “Oh, I’d love to. She’s pretty hot.”
“Not yet?”
“No, not yet.”
“Well, when you do, bring her in. I’ll fix you both something special.”
Marie smiled at him. “You got a deal.” She took a big swig of her drink.
Like that’s ever going to happen. But it feels nice dreaming about it.
She reached into her back pocket for her wallet to pay for the macchiato.
“Oh, put your money away. This one’s on the house, sort of a congratulations drink.”
“Thanks, Geordi. I’ll remember to get you the poster.”
“And a head shot?”
“Okay, and a head shot.”
“Signed?”
“Signed.” She shook her head in wonder at his reaction.
* * * *
The final week was one full rehearsal after another, with costumes. It was fun to see everyone in their characters. Ella’s stepfather wore a black suit, and he had padding underneath it to give him some weight. Some of the men wore worker’s clothing; others wore a higher-class costume. The king and his entourage wore royal clothing. Eunice’s creations were perfect. Being in costume made each person act more like their character.
They would start the day with a run-through without costumes, of anything Kent, Walter, or Vincent, the orchestra conductor, felt needed work. The first day went slowly as the cast got used to the sound of the orchestra and the feel of their costumes.
At six o’clock, the show would start with everything in place: the costumes, the orchestra, the scenery, and props. When they got to the end of the show, Vincent and Kent would critique the performance and, if the whole cast was involved, would run a scene again. If it was just one or two people, they’d discuss the imperfections.
On the fifth Monday night, Ashley stopped Marie as she was getting ready to leave.
“I’ve got two nice Porterhouses, and we can grill them in my back yard. Want to come over?”
“That sounds great. I’ve been too tired to cook for myself this last week.”
“Then come on. I just installed yellow lights out back so we won’t be bothered by bugs. I’ll grill the steaks, and we can have salad and wine. How’s that sound?”
“It sounds great”
They took a taxi to Ashley’s apartment in Brooklyn. She had a ground-floor place in an old brownstone, including a walled-in back yard.
“I love your place,” Marie said. “It must be nice to have a place to sit outside without all the neighbors walking by.”
“It’s great. There’s a family on each side, but they’re friendly. We don’t tend to bother each other.”
The cement wall between the yards stood at least four feet high.
Ashley dumped a pile of charcoal into the hibachi and lit it. “It’ll take about five minutes for it to get hot enough. Let’s get the salad done.”
She led the way inside, through the bedroom, and into the kitchen.
“Would you rather tear the lettuce or slice the tomatoes and onions?”
“Let me tear the lettuce,” Marie replied.
“So you want me to have the onion-smelling hands.” Ashley laughed.
She took a large tomato, an onion, and a head of lettuce out of the refrigerator and tossed the lettuce to Marie. She took a cutting board and bowl out and set them on the table. Then she started to slice the tomato and onion. Marie started tearing the lettuce into bite-sized pieces and dumped them in the bowl.
“Do you do a lot of cooking?” Ashley asked Marie.
“When I get the chance. It’s usually easy stuff like spaghetti or chicken, though. I don’t spend as much time as I’d like on it.”
“My mother made sure I’d know how to cook for my husband,” Ashley announced. “Boy, was that a waste of time.”
“Then you can always cook for your wife,” Marie reminded her.
“Like shit. We’d go out to eat.”
“Then what are we doing here now?”
“Having a romantic adventure,” Ashley said as she took the package of steak and the bowl of salad out to the back yard.
“A romantic adventure?” Marie asked. She wasn’t sure she wanted anything romantic tonight.
“Sure, we’ll sit here, eat a great steak, drink a little red wine, and just chat. It’s warm enough to make it comfortable, and we can both relax. What’s more romantic than that?” She went back into the house to get plates and silverware.
Well, that’s all the romance I’m up for tonight, Marie thought. Why did I come out here?
“How’s your relationship with Jackie?” Ashley asked point blank when she came back out of the house.
“Relationship?” Marie asked.
“Oh, come on. I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
“Look at her?” Oh, my God. Has everybody seen?”
“I’ve seen you staring at her. I’d have thought by now you’d have put the Marie Jacolby move on her.”
“Why would I do that? I don’t think she’s gay.”
“Since when has that stopped you?” Ashley smirked at her.
“Ashley, I’m not like you. I don’t jump on anything that moves.”
“Well, I’ll tell you, if I were in your position, I’d have jumped her weeks ago. Gay or straight, she’s one hot babe.”
“Ashley Sheppard! You’d say that about all the women. You should have been the prince.”
“No! You’re a great prince. You just have to move faster.” Ashley unwrapped the package and placed the steaks on the grill.
“Ashley. I move fast enough for now. We have a show opening at the end of this week.”
The Role of Her Lifetime Page 11
