Authors: Emme Burton
Chapter 7-
JULY
Tonight, I’
m going to get all dolled up and cut loose. Why? Because it is late in July and the last show of the summer is opening at Forest Park Theatre. There is an opening night party for every show, but since the shows are in back-to-back rep with only one day off a week during rehearsals, once the first show opens it’s like a runaway train. Rehearsals for the next show happen during the day and the current show runs at night. If anyone in the company parties too hard, it is not good the next day or for that night’s performance. But the last opening night party is different. There is no rehearsal the next day. Nobody needs to be at the theatre until right before show time the next evening. Everyone looks forward to finally getting to sleep in and having their days free, to shop or hang out or pack. The entire season closes in seven days. It’s a bittersweet time.
I am attending the show and party with
Evan. I asked Davis to come home for it, but he couldn’t get away. The show schedule at his theatre did not allow for it. Davis and I haven’t seen each other all summer. We’ve videochatted on our laptops and I am always happy to see him and hear his voice, but it’s not the same as having him with me. Honestly, the videochats and phone calls have become a bit strained. We are truly living two different lives. He tells me about his shows and challenges. I relate stories about the cast and crew at The Forest Park Theatre. I even told him about having to endure seeing Suzette and Jake on a regular basis. He got a bit growly about that, telling me to steer clear of both of them… like I hadn’t already planned on that. Some days all Davis and I get to do is text each other “Good Morning,” “Goodnight,” and “I Love You.” I didn’t think our schedules would be so different, since we are both working at theatres, but mine is in an office and Davis’ is more technical. Only two more weeks and he’ll be home. Then school starts for him and I’ll be unemployed – again. But at least we’ll back in the same city, the same house, and most importantly, the same bed.
Evan
is picking me up at the condo after I run home to change for the show and party. It’s nice of him. It means I can wear heels tonight. I have a really fun summer dress, too. It’s a 50s vintage halter dress. A rich chocolate brown color, which looks great with my red hair and pale skin. It may be summer, but I am not a tanner, at all. Five minutes in the sun and I am as red as a lobster. SPF-Indoors for me. The dress has ruffles on the bust of the fitted bodice, a matching belt and a full skirt. I pair it with tall brown and pink polka dot ankle strap stilettos. If it were daytime, I could add a hat and be perfect for a garden party. I feel prettier than I have in a long time. I haven’t really paid extra attention to my clothes or grooming since Davis has been gone. I haven’t been a slob or anything, always professional. I just haven’t felt the need to go all out. I look in the mirror to see how the outfit looks and decide to add a pair of swingy silver hoop earrings. Evaluating myself, I decide to take a selfie and send it to Davis. Weird, it’s not something I’d normally do, but I want him to see how nice I look and maybe miss me a little more.
After I snap a few shots, I pick two to send to
Davis – one showing the whole outfit and another, a close-up with me blowing him a kiss. Just as I hit the send button, the doorbell to the condo rings. I put my phone down and go to answer the door. It must be Evan.
Evan
enters the condo, looking very handsome in a beige summer weight suit with a pink shirt and no tie. It almost looks like we called each other to match. As he comes through the door, after I open it wider and invite him in, he puts a hand on my hip and leans down to kiss me on the cheek.
“You look amazing, tonight, B.”
Evan says while pulling away from the kiss.
I automatically thank him.
Strange. Evan has never been so familiar with me. I don’t think he’s ever even touched me before other than to shake my hand. The other strange thing is that I kind of like it and it makes me anxious and a little panicky that I do. I never really thought about Evan in that way before now. He
is
handsome, there is no denying it. Tall, lean, a dancer’s body, as that is what he did before he became a producer. He met his wife while working as a performer on a cruise ship. I try to act cool about the kiss and turn away quickly, inviting Evan to make himself at home while I go to get my purse. I catch myself putting my hand up to my face where he kissed me and picturing his face as I walk into the bedroom. Then I stop and mentally scold myself. Why am I thinking about Evan? Why am I thinking about his brown hair that is not quite as dark as Davis’? Shorter and wavier. His warm brown eyes, so different from the green ones I adore and miss so terribly. That’s it. I’m lonely. I miss Davis. I’m not excited about Evan. I just haven’t been touched intimately in weeks and weeks. I haven’t even had the energy or desire to touch myself. I take a deep breath, repeat my hardly used mantra, “I can do this. I can do this,” and remind myself that in five minutes any panic will be over. As I reach for my small brown wicker basket purse, I glimpse my phone out of the corner of my eye. Davis’ face and his words, “I swear, I am going to staple that cell phone to your forehead,” run through my mind. It makes me smirk to myself. I check to see if Davis has responded to my selfie and then throw the phone in my purse. He hasn’t. A little bit of disappointment washes over me. I wanted it to be Davis that told me I look pretty.
Evan
calls to me from the other room, “Hey, B, I just got a call. There is a little trouble with something backstage. I told them we’d be right over. Are you ready?”
“Coming.” I call out to him. Then I take one last cleansing breath and join him to leave the condo. Again,
Evan touches me. Ushering me out of the door with his hand on my lower back. I don’t know how to tell him not to do it. And, really, I don’t know if I want him to stop. It’s harmless, right? A flutter of panic shoots straight to my chest.
***
Arriving at the theatre, Evan rushes off to put out whatever fire caused the phone call. I hang out by the backstage gate waiting for him to finish so we can go into the show together. I check my watch a couple of times. They won’t let you in the theatre after the first number starts. It’s getting close to curtain time. Evan appears as I look up from my watch for the fourth time. He smiles a huge smile while rolling his eyes and head at the same time.
“What was the emergency?” I laugh, knowing this will be good.
“Some emergency.” Evan bites out sarcastically, “Our darling leading lady was flipping out because her newest sugar daddy did not have seats directly in front of the stage.”
I have to know, “How did you fix it?”
“Don’t be
mad, but I gave them our seats,” he tells me, raising his eyebrows and wincing a bit.
I tell him it’s fine
and I mean it. I take his arm, locking my hand around his elbow and say, “Let’s go.” We take our seats just as the announcement about no flash photography and turning off cell phones echoes across the large outdoor auditorium. I quickly pull out my cell phone, check one more time to see if Davis has responded, and when I see there isn’t a message from him, I shut off my phone and slip it back in my purse.
***
The show is, of course, wonderful. Black & Wright Productions chose to end the season with a hometown favorite, Meet Me In St. Louis. It is especially poignant since Forest Park Theatre is right in the middle of what was the fairground of the 1904 World’s Fair described in the play. The show ends with a rousing audience sing along of the title song.
The closing night party is different from other cast parties. It is sponsored by several local businesses, so the food and drink are a little more upscale and there is a real DJ, not just the sound crew with an iPod.
There is even a red carpet to walk. It feels a bit over the top, but I just go with it and link arms with Evan again to enter the party. We stop for a couple of photos as we walk the carpet. Wow, the business office went all out on this party. I think it is all an act until I see Smitty taking some of the pictures. Kathleen is standing next to him. She must be on assignment for Arch Scene magazine. I shoot them both a look like, “Can you believe this?” They both just smile and then Smitty snaps a couple of pictures of me with Evan. Again, I feel Evan’s hand on my back and wish it was Davis’.
I have a couple of drinks. I know it’s not the best idea given my current mood, missing Da
vis but pretending to be fine, but I just want to have some fun. I have been working so hard all summer – long days, late nights. I deserve a bit of fun. I am nothing if not good at rationalizing. After I dance with practically every male cast member, and some of the females too, Evan asks me to dance to a slow song. I didn’t think he would. He’s been spending the whole night networking. I noticed him chatting up Gail, the TV producer I met last semester in class. Evan really is a very good dancer. I don’t even have to think about where I’m going or what I’m doing, I just follow his lead. Evan brings up the subject of me coming to work for Black & Wright again. I tell him I’d like to discuss it more, but not tonight. We agree to meet for breakfast in the morning, but not too early, to go over what the job would mean. Just as I am about to tell him I’d like to go home, Evan bends down, breathes out a sigh and attempts to kiss me. I am about to go with it and then,
I
stop him
, gently putting three fingers up to his lips before he goes any further
.
“Evan, you are very good to me and very attractive …”
Evan
interjects, “But?”
“But you don’t really want to kiss me. You’re lonely. I’ve heard you talking to
Guiliana in your office. You’re crazy about her. And I’m lonely, too, BUT we can’t go there. We can’t kiss each other because we miss
them
– Davis and Guiliana. It’s not right or fair to any of us.”
Still holding me in mid-dance, his head on my forehead, Evan agrees, “I know, I know. You’re right. I just miss Guiliana so freaking much.”
I continue
gently. “Ev, I don’t want anything spoiling our friendship. I really like you. You are the first real-life grown-up friend I’ve ever had. My partner in crime.”
My last line makes us both laugh.
Later, when I think about it, I get it. I do love Evan, not love like the way I love Davis, not a sibling-like love like I have with Charlie. It’s sort of a professional friendship/respect kind of love. We stop our “non-dancing” dancing, settle on the details of meeting for breakfast and, since its after one o’clock in the morning, Evan takes me home. By the time he drops me off any residual awkwardness from our nearly intimate moment is gone. No goodnight kisses, just a friendly handshake.
I take off my pretty dress and my cool stilettos, pull on
Davis’ HOT SPOT t-shirt, sniff it to inhale any remaining Davis scent, wash my face and get in bed. Right before I put my tired self to sleep, I check my phone. I realize it’s been off since the start of the show. Shoot, I wonder if I’ve missed a message from Davis. As it cheeps on, I see I have one message -- from Davis.
It says,
You look so pretty. I wish I was there to show you off.
I text back quickly,
I am so sorry, my phone was off for the show. I’m glad you liked my outfit. When you’re home, I’ll let you take me out in it (and take me out of it ;) Soon. Goodnight, Mavis. I LOVE YOU. (and yes, I am shouting that.)
I wait a few minutes, no return message. I put my phone on the charger, roll over and let sleep take me. Tomorrow, I’ll meet with
Evan and maybe, get a new job.
***
There is no message from Davis when I wake up. It’s not like him to go so long without even a short text back. I am starting to get a bit worried. I send one more text to him before changing into my running tank, short and shoes and leaving the condo.
Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you. I am beginning to worry. Please text me back.
Kathleen and Smitty’s shoes are in the front hall, so I know they haven’t gotten up for the morning. It’s only 7:30. I really didn’t expect them to be awake. I don’t know why I am up, except I told Evan I’d have breakfast with him and I might as well run over and get my work out done at the same time.
Evan’s rental apartment is only about a mile and a half away. That’s fine with me, I am really not in the mood to run any further than that. It’s already 85 degrees and muggy outside. I’m starting to get more than worried about Davis’ lack of texting. I’m starting to get mad. So much so that as I run I decide to call him. No answer. By the time I reach Evan’s, I am in a bad mood and sweaty. Oh yeah, did I say I hate sweating?
I’m huffing and red-faced with exertion and emotion as Evan opens the door. I don’t even say hello, I just gruff out, “Ugh, I am so gross. I didn’t think this through, running over here to meet.”