Destiny Plays

by Leslie Pike

  “It’s what I do. How I make my living.”

  Everybody gets quiet. Especially me.

  Chapter Eight

  Kate

  Every day that moves closer to my departure brings with it more anxiety. I started counting down the days right after Thanksgiving. Thirty-three, thirty-two, thirty-one. This morning I’m down to sixteen. December 26th is only a breath away. A little over two weeks till we make our move to Washington. I can’t get excited. Usually I’m hyped to get back to it by now. The fact that we’ll be working with the Seattle Shakespeare Theater doesn’t even float my boat. My exhilaration scale has been made new.

  But what choice do I have? I’m not going to completely alter my life because of the last six weeks. Am I? I’m too old to ignore the obvious fact that a man is the reason I’m considering it at all. And for what? Yes, we’re exclusive. But there’s no guarantee it will hold. He’s a hot attorney. Will he tire of us when our days and nights become routine? Does Christos feel the power like I do? Is it as earthshaking? When I’m in his arms the whole world fades away.

  How would I support myself? Staying with Auntie Anne would be a given. She’s offered it many times. But where’s the money to live going to come from? My savings is pitiful. All these years of work have resulted in a meager savings account and one underfunded IRA. Fortunately, I have my pension to count on, but it doesn’t kick in for another twenty-plus years and will only grow if I keep contributing. The ugly truth is I’m too young to rest on my laurels, too passionate about acting to abandon it completely, and too inexperienced to find a new career. Shit. I’m screwed.

  And playing in the back of my mind is the story he told me about his last girlfriend. He thought it funny that Nikos had said she was using him as her financial plan. I’d die if he or any of his family thought it of me. I’ve taken care of myself my entire life. Everything points in the direction that I’ll be headed for Seattle.

  At least for today my mind will be on something pleasant. Ever since Farrah told me about Max’s class and their Midsummer Night’s Dream plans, it’s been rolling around in my mind. I’m glad I decided to speak to the kids before they go on their Christmas break.

  I make sure I’m turning on the correct street and head towards the middle school at the end of the block. My cell sitting on the passenger seat sounds. It’s Christos. I pull the car to the side of the rode and answer.

  “Good morning,” I say in my sexiest voice.

  “Oh, you’re killing me. Tell me again why I had to leave your bed this morning.”

  “Because you’re meeting with your new clients. They’re counting on you.”

  “I know. A mother and child stuck in a low-rent motel. My mother knew I’d have a hard time getting that image out of my head.”

  “You’re a good man.” I mean that. In the short time I’ve known him, Christos has shown his character to be steady and moral. His ethics admirable. The entire family is cut from the same cloth.

  “I wanted to talk with you before the day goes by. I need to tell you something important.”

  The tone of his voice changed with the statement. My pulse quickens. “What?”

  “I just found you, Kate. I don’t want you to leave. There. I said it.”

  I hear a sigh leave his lips as if he just spilled a secret he’d been holding forever.

  “Have you noticed you say the most important things to me over the phone?” I say.

  “That’s because I’m not used to saying them at all. If you start laughing, I can just hang up.”

  He gives a little laugh himself and it tickles my heart. “I promise not to laugh.” I chuckle.

  “See. You’re doing it now,” he teases.

  “No. I’m taking you seriously.” Completely seriously. More so then I’ve ever done before.

  “So what do you think?” he says.

  “It’s not that easy.” I know the issues we face.

  “We can figure it out together. This is a solvable problem if you want it to be.”

  I hear the frustration in his voice and feel it in my heart.

  “But two weeks isn’t enough time, Christos. I’ve got to be smart about the next step I take. I don’t have the resources to make any bad decisions.”

  “I do,” he says without hesitation.

  “No. I stand on my own. Thanks, but no.” I’m firm in my statement because it would be a big mistake to let him be the financial ground I stand on. I’m too old to make that error.

  He goes silent.

  “You still there?” I say.

  “I’m here. Just thinking.”

  We both get quiet, too lost in the problem to find a quick way out. “I’ve got to get off. I’m at the school now.”

  “Alright. But I’m going to come get you later, Kate. You’re staying with me tonight. We’re not done talking.”

  “You’re very bossy,” I tease.

  “I’m serious, Kate. You and I are going to fix this. I refuse to let you go without a fight.”

  I sit for a few moments after we disconnect. I’m euphoric and afraid entwined together in a knot in my stomach. Tick . . . tick . . . tick, I hear the metaphorical clock counting down to the day of departure.

  Pulling away from the curb, I make my way to the parking lot and into a space. To my right, under an archway, stands Sophia, Farrah, and Lana.

  They spot my car and make their way over. By the time I’m out, they’re by my side.

  “Hello, darling,” Sophia says giving me a kiss on the cheek.

  “The Santini welcome committee decided to show up,” says Lana.

  “I’m happy you did. I need a cheering squad.”

  “The children are excited to meet you. They’ll be a great audience,” Farrah says. “This way.”

  The four of us head for the classroom, talking all the way across the picturesque campus. I feel as if I’ve been friends with these women forever, because there’s such an easy flow to our conversation. I always like to see who people are when their partner isn’t with them. Everyone is a little different. Man, woman, it doesn’t matter. Funny part is both sides of our personalities are authentic. My first acting teacher pointed it out and told us to use it when building characters. Now I can’t help but be aware of it in my everyday life.

  Today’s biggest surprise is Sophia. When commenting on the recent arrest of three teenagers for vandalism at the school, she said “The fucking little shits.” It made all three of us laugh.

  None of them bring up Christos or my plans. They let it lie.

  “Here we are,” Farrah says stopping in front of Room 204. “We’ve got an hour. Talk as long as you want, or take questions. It’s up to you. Mr. Grant’s the drama teacher. He said to just walk in.”

  “Okay. I’ll see how engaged they are and play it by ear.”

  “Oh, they’re engaged. This class is an elective,” Farrah says.

  We walk in and a classroom full of eager faces turns towards us. Max sits front and center with a wide smile on his face. A small-framed, wild-haired older man sitting on the corner desk rises.

  “Miss Cornell! Welcome!”

  He starts clapping and his students follow.

  “Hello, everyone! I’m so happy to be here with you.”

  Sophia, Lana and Farrah move to the back of the class. Mr. Grant motions for me to take the high director’s chair in front of the students. I feel like I’m in The Actors Studio.

  “Miss Cornell has graciously agreed to speak with us today. We’re very fortunate to have an actual Shakespearean actress as our guest. I’ve told you about her impressive resume so you’re aware this is someone who knows of what she speaks. Some of you saw her perform last month when she appeared in The Taming of the Shrew. Today she’s going to pull back the curtain and give us a look into the world of Shakespeare. I know you’re all hoping she’s going to take a few questions afterward and give us some tips.”

  “Of course. I’m looking forward to it.”

  Mr.
Grant gives me a nod.

  “Shakespeare is the master of the English language,” I begin. “His words can elevate us as actors and writers, More importantly as human beings. They make us feel love and fear and hope and anger and a hundred other emotions. When we hear our own thoughts expressed so perfectly by another it lifts us.

  “My life’s work has been devoted to interpreting his life’s work. Actors have been doing that for centuries now and we haven’t even scratched the surface. Even though the plays were written in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, they still move us to tears and laughter and say things we all feel. But William Shakespeare’s plays were written to entertain the masses. They were the hot movie of his day.”

  The kids’ laughter relaxes me. I pause for a few beats before I say, “My hope today is to get you to begin to see what there is to love.”

  The forty -five minutes went by as if it were five. I could see the young faces lit by the fire of the Bards words. And I hear my own enthusiasm as I teach it to them. I knew they’d get a kick out of Shakespeare’s best insults. Kids always do. I encouraged them to see a film or a live performance of Midsummer’s Night Dream before they perform it in May. And I made clear that the reading of the words aloud is important for the rhythm of the dialogue. Because Shakespeare’s words are lilting and musical.

  I check the clock on the wall.

  “I think it’s time for questions,” I say.

  At least twenty hands go up.

  An hour later the four of us are sitting having lunch and a glass of wine. The view of the vineyards of St. Helena is breathtaking.

  “That was so rewarding,” I say to my companions.

  “The children fell in love with you,” says Sophia touching me on the hand.

  “Did you see that boy on the right? He’s a little ahead of himself. Thirteen going on thirty,” adds Lana.

  “He reminded me of Nikos when he was that age,” Sophia says laughing.

  “I never expected them to be so . . . well, so interested.”

  “You’ve got to remember these are children who chose the class. Max is over the moon about playing Puck. Part of it’s the costume, but I think he’s actually enjoying being on stage,” Farrah says.

  “Nash is so proud. When he told Valentino and I about it, he was beaming.”

  I take the basket of bread Lana passes and look at Farrah. “How did you two meet? I haven’t heard that story.”

  The three women have the oddest expressions which I can’t quite read. “What?” I say.

  “I ran over a dog,” Farrah groans.

  “What?!” I didn’t expect that.

  “I was driving down Main Street, and he darted out. I hit him, and it was the most horrible moment.”

  “Oh my God.”

  Farrah continues, “So, I’m crying of course, but I see this new vet’s shop a few doors down.”

  “Dr. Santini, I presume,” I say.

  Farrah nods and her brows knit together for just a moment. “The one and only. It’s a long story for another day, but basically it was love at first sight. I just let life’s distractions get in the way of our happiness for a while.”

  I hear the catch in her throat as she recalls her own love story and the fork in their road. Sounds like she may have been stuck in her own journey, just like I feel I am. I can sense every woman here understands the similarity. And they’re rooting for me somehow. Rooting for Christos and I. My stomach’s in a knot as the story swims in my mind.

  Sophia reaches over to take Farrah’s hand. Then she looks at me. “So see, my dear, things usually do right themselves if we’re guided by love. Even difficult situations. Sometimes you just need to untangle the problems one thread at a time.”

  “When it’s your livelihood, you can’t make the wrong choice. I’m not so young anymore, and it would be hard to recover,” I say softly.

  “I don’t want to meddle. It’s just something to think about,” says Sophia.

  The view from his bed is mesmerizing and not only because he’s in it. A cold night’s fog has crept across the bay, and it’s lingering over the bridge. Alcatraz isn’t visible. But the lights that dot the entire span of the bridge twinkle through the haze.

  We’ve brought our dinner to bed with us. Chinese from Mr. Cho’s a block away. We’re not dining on his best plates. It’s plastic bowls and cans of Pepsi night. He’s picking out the water chestnuts from the chow mein. But instead of tossing them, he eats them first.

  “That’s an interesting quirk,” I say.

  “See, you’re just starting to learn about my idiosyncrasies. This would be a terrible time to leave. We need to know the good and the bad and the odd about each other.”

  “We hardly know anything,” I say.

  He looks me in the eye. “I know everything I need to.” He pauses with my silence then changes the subject. “For instance, I know I like you in that,” he says lifting his chin.

  His white dress shirt’s the only thing I’ve got on. My hair is loose, and I’m pretty certain I’ve got that freshly ravaged look, thanks to my bedmate. He’s wearing boxer briefs and a smile.

  “Tell me about today. Did you like talking to the kids?”

  I put my drink down and angle my body towards him. “It was really rewarding. I felt like I was thirteen again and had just discovered acting. Their faces were so full of promise, Christos.”

  “How was Max? Did he ask any questions?”

  “That kid. He’s awesome. I think he may be the class clown.”

  There’s a shocked look on his face. “What? I’d never guess that. He was always kind of a quiet kid.”

  “He’s almost a teenager. We all morph into something new at that age.”

  He nods in agreement. “Yeah. And he’s got Farrah’s influence now. I notice her effect on my brother.”

  “Anyway, the other kids love him, you can tell. He’s going to make a good Puck.”

  “Have you ever thought of teaching acting?” He’s pretending the question is simply a casual inquiry. I know it’s much more than that.

  “Not really. I know nothing about teaching.”

  He sets his bowl down and wipes his mouth. “But you know everything about Shakespeare’s plays. I bet there would be a market for that. Especially in San Francisco. There’s money, culture, a young demographic, and parents who are intent on making sure their child is well-rounded. Little Zoey or Zeke need to show that on their school applications.”

  I appreciate the effort but know the reality of the situation. Time’s not on our side. We’re running out of options.

  “Maybe. But there’s no time to think about that direction or if I’d even be good at it. I’m leaving in sixteen days.”

  His face gets serious. He shakes his head. “We can’t change what we have no control over. If it’s sixteen days we have, then we figure it out in fifteen.”

  “We also need to be realistic. Maybe our only choice is to try a long-distance relationship. If we want it bad enough, it can be done,” I say unconvincingly.

  He locks eyes with me.

  “Bad enough? I swear when I kiss you I can taste the next fifty years of my life.” The world stops spinning for a moment. My eyes fill with tears. “But, Kate, we’ve just found each other. There’s a foundation to build. Living in separate states isn’t going to make that happen. Long distance won’t work. For either of us.”

  I take a deep breath and wipe my tears away. “I’m afraid, Christos. I’m not a twenty-five-year-old girl who can disconnect from her job and find another in any place she lands. I’m forty-two years old! I’ve devoted a lifetime to get to the place I’m at right now.”

  He takes my hand. “But you told me you weren’t completely satisfied with your career. Remember telling me that the night I brought you here for the first time?”

  He’s got a lawyer’s memory.

  “Yes. I remember.”

  “Well, what about that? You have reasonable doubt. Are you willing t
o give up what’s happening between us for a job you’re not sure you’re even happy with anymore? Come on.”

  There’s anger in his voice, and I feel it rising in me. My tone changes when I say, “You said the same thing, and I don’t see you changing jobs. Don’t use my words against me. This isn’t a court of law. It was just a passing thought at the end of a long season.”

  We both get quiet. He’s made his point, and it’s pissed me off.

  He would have to go and tell the truth.

  Chapter Nine

  Christos

  No one tells you what happens when you fall in love. It messes with everything you think you know. Your routines and selfish habits take a backseat to the new normal. You willingly lower your defenses and leave yourself wide open for heartache. Suddenly you’re unable to live without the person you didn’t know existed a short time ago.

  There’s no rainbows and unicorns as you go skipping through a meadow. That’s bullshit. It’s beautifully real, with doubts and fears. Everything comes into focus, and suddenly you’re seeing in Technicolor. And man, this feeling. Now I know I haven’t been anywhere near this state of mind before.

  The problem is I can’t tell her I love her. It would be a mistake saying that to a woman who’s about to walk away. And I keep reminding myself in the big picture we only just met. I don’t want to bulldoze her with my declarations of love. I sound like a casebook stalker.

  I won’t use it as a ploy either. She needs to come to the decision to stay on her own, without force. But I’m aching to say the words and see her face when I do. Mostly, I guess what I want is to hear them said back.

  I took a chance telling her a long-distance relationship wouldn’t work. I know if it came to it, I’d try.

  My ringtone returns me to earth. I look at the screen.

  “Hey, Nash.”

  “Hey. What’re you up to?” he says.

  “Trying to get past this day. I went to the office at six this morning. Now I’m heading to meet with the woman Mom asked me to speak to.”

  “She’s in St. Helena?”