by Thea Dawson
Joy ignored the eyebrows. “Home by midnight,” she said.
“I hear and obey, oh my mother.” Charlotte made an exaggerated bow then straightened up to steer the still-grinning Cat and the open-mouthed Zena back out of the dining room. At the last minute she turned to give a thumbs up signal behind their backs. Chris wasn’t sure if it was directed at him for charming her friends, at Joy for eating Thai food with a legit movie star, or at herself for having introduced her friends to Chris McPherson. He smiled at her and gave her a thumbs up in return.
“Candy bars, huh?” Joy asked.
Chris spread his hands out helplessly. “She was such a character, I could never say no. Doesn’t look like she’s changed.”
Joy shook her head but she was smiling. “Okay, back to the schedule,” she said briskly. “A few years ago, SSP marched in the fourth of July Parade, which is on a Saturday,” she tapped the date with her pencil. “I’ve contacted the parade organizers and they’ve agreed to let us march again. We can hand out flyers, have a banner or a float, if we can organize one. Should be a good way to get attention. It’s a three-day weekend. Some people will be out of town, but hopefully we can still get at least one regular rehearsal in. Can we count on you to march with us? I think you’d be a good draw.”
“Sure, should be fun.” Chris went back to the yum nuar.
“Okay, fundraisers—we’ve always had a raffle before each performance. Usually a local business donates something as a prize. We generally make around $200 each performance. We’ll still do that, but I’m thinking also about doing a silent auction, maybe in conjunction with a meet-and-greet opportunity with you.”
“What, you’re like, pimping me out?” he asked around a mouth full of spicy meat.
“No ... well, yes. I’m thinking of selling tickets at $50 apiece.”
“I’m worth at least $100,” he objected.
She studied him. “You might be. We’ll serve wine and beer, people will have the chance to bid on auction items and shake hands with you. Maybe get your autograph. No punch-ups.”
“The things I do for you.”
“Thank you. The question is when. I think a week, maybe two, before opening night would be good, but it’ll be important that you be here. If this goes well, it’ll be our biggest fundraiser, so I don’t want to take any chances with you being on a delayed flight or anything.”
He nodded and checked his schedule again. “I do have a couple things scheduled for that week ... but I can probably change them. Give me some back up dates just in case.”
She made a few more suggestions and he promised to check with Jenny about clearing at least one of them.
Finally, she leaned back with a satisfied smile. “Okay, that’s it. Just show up next Saturday for auditions, and we’ll take it from there.”
“All right, now that we’ve got business out of the way, let’s talk about you.”
“Me?” She looked suspicious.
“Yeah. What did your ex want?”
She grimaced, looking resigned. “He want to sell the house.”
“Bastard,” said Chris agreeably.
She gave slight shrug. “Yeah, well … Why don’t you tell me about what you do? What’s it like being a movie actor?”
“It’s awesome, except every now and then I get in a punch-up with the paparazzi. But I was asking about you.”
“No paparazzi. I have a pretty quiet life.”
He suppressed a sigh. He’d learned early on that most chicks loved talking about themselves, and his ability to ask them questions and draw them out had gotten him plenty of action over the years. But Joy, typically, wasn’t going to make it easy for him—which, of course, was part of what made her so interesting in the first place.
“You make your ice cubes out of coffee and drink your espresso cold,” he said knowingly. “I know there’s more to you than meets the eye.”
She leaned a little closer and he resisted the urge to look down her shirt. “Sometimes,” she said, a glint of humor in her eyes, “I use a little whipped cream, too.”
She was just being silly, he knew, but images of what he could do with Joy, some ice cubes and some whipped cream flashed disconcertingly through his head.
He leaned closer to her. “I knew you had a freaky side.”
He thought he caught a flash of something not unlike desire in her green eyes, but to his disappointment, she pulled away, laughing.
“It’s nice to see that fame and fortune haven’t changed you. What are your plans for the rest of the weekend?” She reached for her curry and took a bite.
Damn. He couldn’t seem to find the line between real flirting and goofing around. He leaned back, resigned for the moment. “I’m supposed to see Victor tomorrow to talk about the play. Otherwise, not much. Maybe you could show me around?”
Joy shook her head. “Charlotte’s graduating high school tomorrow. I’ve got my mom and my sister coming in for the day.” She sighed. “And I have to be civil to her father, which takes a lot of energy. Listen, Chris, it was great catching up with you, but I think I’d better call it a night.”
“Oh, yeah. Of course.”
He wasn’t sure exactly what had happened. Somewhere, somehow, he’d crossed a line. He just wasn’t sure where. But they had all summer to get to know each other again.
He knew how to play a long game.
Joy poured the rest of the wine down the sink and wiped down the kitchen table. The edgy, unsettled feeling had returned. For a while, while Chris had been there, she’d forgotten all about Scott, about the house, about the oppressive sense that the life she had wasn’t the life she wanted.
But the temptation to flirt had gotten a little too strong and she’d pulled back, unwilling to go further. Chris was as much fun as she remembered him. Maybe more so—and handsome, sexy and successful to boot. She could find herself falling for him a little too easily, and it was ridiculous to think he’d be after anything more than friendship. She’d make a fool out of herself if she tried.
She’d had her chance when she was twenty-seven, and she’d—rightfully—turned it down. Now, it was up to her to revamp her life. She couldn’t rely on Chris or anyone else to do it for her.
She wandered into the TV room, thinking she might watch Bringing up Baby after all—maybe it would revive her spirits—but her eyes were drawn by a globe of the world that sat on a rarely used desk. She spun it, looking for Indonesia.
Why had she wanted to go there so badly?
It took her a few minutes to remember. Someone on Facebook had posted pictures of a vacation in Bali two years ago, and she’d been seized with a sudden desire to leave her normal life behind and see the lush, exotic island for herself.
But not just for a week or two of sightseeing and swimming and eating too much and going home sunburned and exhausted. She wanted to go and really see it, to spend time there, to meet the locals and absorb the culture, to travel around to the other islands that made up the long archipelago ... to leave her regular life behind.
Seized with excitement, she’d proposed the idea to Scott, suggesting that they save their money and vacation time and go the summer before Charlotte started college. He’d indulged her with the patient smile of someone who figured she’d lose interest long before he’d have to commit.
Or maybe, in retrospect, it was the smile of a man who had something better to look forward to, and knew it. All hell had broken loose just a few months later, and family vacations were a thing of the past.
She traced her finger back across the wide Pacific Ocean to the coast of Oregon. When she was a child, her mother had explained that if a ship began a journey off by just half a degree, it would end up somewhere completely different from where it wanted to go. She closed her eyes and gently pushed the globe again, letting her finger trail across it, then opened her eyes ...
... like the Arctic.
She turned her back on the television and went upstairs for the long-awaited bubble bath.
9
“Quite a crowd we’ve got here,” Chris said in a low voice.
Auditions were being held at one o’clock on Saturday afternoon in the University Theater. The old building’s air-conditioning system struggled to keep up with the duel demands of an unusually hot day and the warmth generated by the 100 or so hopefuls who filled up about a third of the seats in the theater.
Chris took in the surroundings, his nostalgia tinged with sadness at the state of the old theater. The velvet-covered seats were shabby, the carpet that lined the aisles was worn; the only thing that had changed since he’d been a student there was that everything had gotten older.
The students, on the other hand, seemed to have gotten younger. Charlotte and a gaggle of high-school-aged kids sat in a group toward the back, but there were plenty of others who looked like they might be even younger than she was. He smiled pleasantly at a group of girls in the fourth row who were giggling and pointing at him.
“Is it just that I’m getting older, or is this group really young?”
Joy stood next to him beside the stage, tapping her ubiquitous clipboard with a pen. She was also studying the crowd intently. “Definitely a younger crowd than we usually get. I’d say you have a fan base at the high school.” She studied the crowd. “Maybe even the middle school.” She looked at him apologetically.
Chris frowned. Technically, the Players were supposed to be at least 18 years old, but it didn’t look like many of the hopefuls had read the fine print. “Where are the college kids and the grown-ups?”
“We never get too many college students, because there just aren’t that many here over the summer,” Joy explained. “We didn’t have a production last year, and the year before that we didn’t do much outreach. A lot of people fell off the mailing list. That left us with Craig’s List and the flyers, which weren’t exactly targeted.”
He glanced at his watch; they still had five minutes before they were supposed to start. He swept the audience feeling like he was looking for something, but he wasn’t quite sure what.
“Whatever happened to Jennifer?” he asked in a low voice. Jennifer had been the wispy blond girl who’d played the delicate Hero in Much Ado about Nothing. “I was thinking she’d be a good Hermia.”
Joy tapped her clipboard idly. “She got married and moved to Idaho. She’s got four kids.”
“Oh. Right.” Hadn’t she been just a couple years older than he was? But then, he was in his early thirties now, so that made sense. “I keep forgetting how long it’s been.”
Simon came in through one of the side doors, caught their eyes with a little wave and made his way over to them. He too studied the crowd.
“I see a few familiar faces. You’ve got some good talent to choose from,” he said reassuringly.
“Of course.” Casting a quick glance around the assembled Players, Chris couldn’t help feeling a twinge of disappointment. No doubt Simon, Victor, and Joy could help steer him to choose the best actors for each role and they’d make it work, but he realized that what he really wanted was the old cast back. He wanted to recreate the experience of that summer they’d all acted together, a team on stage and off. To relive that pivotal moment of his life ... only this time with a different ending.
But he wasn’t there for himself; he was there for Victor, and for the Players as a whole. It wasn’t fair to impose his personal nostalgia on the play.
Nonetheless, he couldn’t keep a note of hopefulness out of his voice. “It’s not too late for either of you to audition,” he reminded them.
Simon shook his head. “I’ve got my hands full as it is, darling. I’ll help with the costumes, but I can’t commit to more than that.”
Chris understood that “hands full” referred to Simon’s role as Victor’s caregiver. He looked hopefully at Joy. “What do you say? If Titania’s too much, then what about Hippolyta? It’s not that big a role.”
Joy shook her head. “Give it another couple of minutes. It’s not quite one yet. Maybe we’ll get some stragglers.”
As if on queue, a slender woman with strawberry blond curls and a bright smile stepped into the theater from one of the side doors. She wore a flowing cotton dress and leather sandals. Behind her she pulled a handsome man with excellent posture whose t-shirt showed off strong arms and a muscular chest.
Ex-military, Chris would have bet. With a flower-child girlfriend. Interesting pair. But the sight of them lifted his spirits somewhat. They were the right age and good looking enough to play two of the lovers; if she didn’t have the acting chops for a lead role, the girl at least would make a good-looking fairy.
The strawberry blonde turned to smile at them and gave a friendly wave.
“Do you know her?”
Joy and Simon both shook their heads. “Never seen her before,” murmured Joy.
“Okay, well, she looks ... nice,” Chris gave her an awkward wave back.
To his relief, a few more people trickled in over the next few minutes. Just as he was about to call everyone to order, a slender man about his age with dark wavy hair and a neatly trimmed beard walked in and looked around. Catching Chris’s eye he gave him a big grin and walked over.
It took Chris a moment to recognize him. “Luke!” he said, a little too loudly as he started forward. He put out his hand but Luke pushed it aside and gave him a hug instead. “Good to see you, man! You here to audition?”
“Heard you were back, you ol’ son of a gun.” Luke slapped him on the back. “Couldn’t stay away. Course I’m here to audition! I’m not gonna miss the chance to see our very own Hollywood star at work. Brice is gonna be here too, but he’s running late, hopes you’ll be patient. Joy, Simon.” He gave them each a hug. “Good to see the both of you. Joy, I’m surprised you’re still speaking to this guy.” Luke laughed.
Chris felt that familiar heat start to crawl up the back of his neck at the oblique reference to the cast party. Joy hadn’t mentioned it, and he hadn’t brought it up, but he knew that one of these days, he should probably address it ... He watched Joy’s face for her reaction, but she didn’t blink.
“Simon tells me he’s a reformed character now,” she answered. He was relieved to note that she was smiling slightly at Luke.
Luke shook hands with Simon. “Simon, buddy. Been a while. How’s Victor?”
Simon smiled, but his eyes were tired. “He’s doing okay. We’re trying to tweak his meds so that he’s lucid but not in too much pain most of the time. It’s not an exact science, but we seem to be finding a more or less happy medium.”
Luke nodded solemnly, the twinkle in his eyes fading somewhat. “You know if there’s anything I can do to help, you just call me, okay? What I lack in intellect, I make up for in the ability to run errands and lift heavy objects.” The twinkle was back.
Simon nodded, his smile a little bigger now. “I’ll take you up on that, darling.”
Just then, the side door opened again, and a woman who looked to be in her late twenties walked in. Chris was struck first by her face, which was beautiful and perfectly made up, next by her dress, which looked designer and tailor fitted, if not tailor made, and lastly by her figure, which was ... full. Very full.
All in all, not the kind of woman you saw in Silverweed very often.
She walked straight over to the small group by the stage. “Excuse me, are you Joy Albright? I’m Krystal Winston from the Silverweed Sentinel.”
Joy’s face lit up as she shook Krystal’s hand. “I guess you got the press release I sent? Delighted you were able to make it.”
“We actually got two press releases, one from you and one from, I believe, the agency representing Mr. McPherson—so we figured it was important. I do a weekly column called Silverweed Scene. It’s sort of part community events, part gossip column. I’d like to cover your production, if that’s okay.”
“Yes, please! We need all the publicity we can get.” Joy quickly introduced Chris, Luke and Simon. Chris noticed that Luke’s
smile, always warm and friendly, grew warmer as he shook Krystal’s hand.
Krystal greeted each of them pleasantly, but her focus was clearly on Chris.
“If you have some time after the auditions, would you be up for a quick interview?” she asked him.
“I would love to do an interview with you,” Chris put on his most charming smile. “I have to warn you though, with this many people, auditions will probably take a while. Any chance we could meet tomorrow, maybe in the morning?”
“Tomorrow would be fine. Here’s my card, and if I could get your phone number ...?”
He hastily scribbled his number on one of Joy’s try-out forms and handed it to Krystal, who smiled a little bashfully. “I’m actually planning on trying out for the play as well. Could I get another one of these to fill out?”
“Absolutely.” Joy handed her a form and directed her to a seat. Chris followed Luke’s eyes to Krystal’s ample backside as she walked up the aisle and he smiled to himself.
Simon looked at Chris. Shall we get started, darling? Victor’s with a nurse, but I don’t like to be gone too long.”
“Names please, and let us know if you’re trying out for a specific role,” Chris called to the two people on stage.
Now he was sitting in the audience, Joy and Simon to either side of him.
“Doreen Landon,” the woman on stage shouted. “Any role would be fine.”
Doreen smiled broadly, and even from where he sat, Chris could see she was missing one of her back teeth. She looked like she was in her mid-fifties, with long, iron-grey hair. She was somewhat overweight, but her build made her look more tough than grandmotherly. A tattoo of a bleeding rose crept up the length of one beefy forearm.
“Nice projection!” Chris called back to her, trying to be encouraging. He cast around in his mind for an appropriate role in the play. One of the characters played a wall in the play-within-the-play.
He could see Doreen making a good wall.
“What? Oh, yeah, I’m loud,” Doreen laughed. “I’m a school bus driver. I’m always yelling at someone.”
