by Gigi Blume
Stella and Cole returned a few minutes later with the hot chocolate and some cookies for Lydia. Jane and Holly followed soon after with muffins. By the time Nora came into the room, the noise level had gotten so high, we were gently reminded that visiting hours were over, and they’d appreciate it if we took the party elsewhere. We tried to protest that there’d be no party without Lydia, but our quips didn’t work on the night nursing staff. So we left Nora behind and took our turns hugging Lydia goodbye.
“So, what did the doctor say?” Jane whispered to Cole as we walked through the hospital corridors towards the exit. We were told to hush more than a few times, so Jane exaggerated a stage whisper.
“She’ll be fine. She suffered a few blows, broken ribs, first-degree burns. But there’s no organ damage, which is good. She’ll get to go home tomorrow, but she’ll need to rest for the next six weeks.”
“So, she can’t do the show?” asked Holly.
“No.” Cole shook his head with extreme disappointment. “You girls will have to fill in the gaps in the choreography. It’ll work out.”
Lydia didn’t have any solos, so the most negative effect her absence would have on the show would be an imbalance in the pirate to maiden ratio. Poor Denny would be the single pirate.
“Should we finish this conversation over dinner?” I asked the group. It was way past dinnertime, and I was fairly certain Plant Power was closed, but I was getting hangry. I wanted an opportunity to ask more questions of Cole. Like where did Will fit into the whole scheme of things kinds of questions.
“Cole and I had something resembling food at the cafe,” said Stella. “So, we’ll pass. Which reminds me, I should use the loo before that long car ride back to L.A.”
She broke off from the group to find a bathroom, and I joined her in the search. I didn’t have to go. I hadn’t eaten in hours, so there was nothing there. But I wanted to talk to her alone. I needed answers. My questions were really for Cole, but I figured Stella might be more straightforward with me than he would, especially after our little bonding time at the gala.
I waited until she was washing her hands, so it wouldn’t be too awkward. I didn't want to discuss this through a bathroom stall door.
“Thank you for all you’ve done for Lydia,” I said. “You’re a good friend.”
“You’re the good friend,” she said. “I’m just tagging along.”
“And Cole’s gone above and beyond,” I added.
“That he has,” she agreed.
She was drying her hands. Once we left the bathroom, I’d miss my opportunity to talk to her alone. I didn’t want to sound too eager in bringing up Will, but it was now or never.
“Lydia said something,” I hinted. “I thought it might have been the painkillers or maybe she wasn’t in her right mind when Cole found her, but she mentioned Will. Was he there? In Mexico?”
Stella stared at me blankly for a long moment and then responded, “You don’t know?”
“Is this something everybody knows but me?”
And if so, why was I the last to find out?
“Not necessarily,” she said. “Not if William didn’t want it known.”
“Why wouldn't he want it known?”
Stella took my arm and led me out of the bathroom and around a corner where we wouldn’t be seen by our friends.
“I’m going to tell you this,” she said in a whisper, “but if William wanted it to be a secret, you have to honor that and tell no one.”
“Okay,” I said feebly.
“All right.”
She took a deep breath like she was about to settle into a long campfire tale.
“We wouldn’t have been able to find Lydia without him,” she said.
“What?”
“And even if we had, none of us could have negotiated her release the way he did.”
“What do you mean?’
“Those guys never release anyone,” she replied. “They’re not some small fry operation. They have international ties with who knows which human trafficking rings. Lydia was going to be shipped off the continent. Like cattle.”
My head was spinning. I was still confused.
“So what did Will do?”
“I’m not entirely sure. All I know is that he tracked down Jorge. If anyone knows Jorge’s hideouts, it’s Will. Then he paid to get her out.”
“Will paid the bad guys.”
“Oh, yes. They’re businessmen at the end of the day. Money talks.”
“How much?”
“I really couldn’t begin to guess. But I’ll tell you this. Whatever they paid Jorge, they’d be stupid to accept less than ten times that amount.”
My stomach dropped to my knees. Any appetite I had was now obliterated.
“And what about Jorge?”
“Don’t worry. He won’t bother us again.”
“Is he? You know…” I ran my forefinger across my neck.
“No, heavens no.” She laughed. “He’s in custody. But let’s not dwell on these things. What’s done is done.”
She started towards the hospital exit to join our friends but stopped abruptly. “Don’t tell Will I told you this.”
I promised I wouldn’t with a vigorous nod.
“If you must bring it up, blame it on Lydia’s big mouth. It will be more believable.”
29
T Minus One Day
Will
If anyone were to ask me what my ideal Mexican getaway would entail, I would probably wax poetic about the white, sandy beaches of Cozumel or the rich culture of the Teotihuacan pyramids. Mexico, with its deep history, unique flavors, and humble citizens has always been a favorite destination of mine. And not just the tourist traps. I spent two weeks on location in Durango for one of my Fast and Dangerous films. I loved it there so much, I stayed on for an extra week, meeting the locals and exploring the best places to get street tacos or homemade ice cream. I did the same thing in Zihuatanejo and Mexico City. I even caught on to a little bit of Spanish. I’d choose a Mexican vacation any day of the week.
But crossing the border to negotiate with a human trafficking cartel sits almost at the bottom of my bucket list. Almost. Adding Jorge Wickham to the itinerary claimed the prize for last place. Yet, off I went like Steve Martin in Three Amigos to face El Guapo. Because of course, he was in-famous. I was only regular, run-of-the-mill famous. What I found out was that it was nothing like the movies. It was almost like making a transaction on Wall Street with the added edge of fearing for my life. I got to throw my celebrity status around, which was oddly exciting. One of the guys asked for an autograph, repeating his favorite lines from my movies. Who knew we reached that demographic with the Fast and Dangerous franchise? Then, once he had his autograph and selfie, he made some vague threat on my family jewels if I dared to tell anyone. Those guys mean business.
In short, I wasn’t completely confident we’d get out of there alive, but we did. We only stopped looking over our shoulders when we reached Chula Vista Memorial.
Ah, good times.
After that experience, any or all theatre drama or Hollywood intrigue thrown at me was like a trip to Disneyland. It helped me see things in a new light. What was I doing? I’d gotten so caught up in work, I had forgotten why I got into acting in the first place. I didn’t realize until I stepped away from churning out one movie after another that I was more than a box office cash cow. Months on the road with the national tour taught me that. Pirates of Penzance confirmed it. Staring down the barrel of a gun put it all into perspective. If things had gone downhill in Mexico, the news programs announcing my death would report, ‘Will Darcy made really bad movies and died a sad bachelor. The last girl he kissed turned him down flat. He’ll be easily forgotten.’
It played in my head like a recurring nightmare. I didn’t want to make terrible movies for the rest of my life. I also didn’t want to be a sad bachelor anymore. There was nothing I could do to change Beth’s mind, but I could change the direction of my caree
r.
I sent my agent Tobias a text as I arrived at the Gardiner Tuesday morning and waited for the fury of Hades to rain down on me.
Me: I’m going to pass on the next Dangerous film. We’ll chat later.
I was sure my phone would start buzzing with salty replies. So I switched it to airplane mode. I’d deal with Tobias later. For now, I had to focus on Pirates. Opening night was in two days, but our invitational preview was on Wednesday. That was the performance for the press, VIP guests, entertainment bloggers, and industry professionals. I heard a rumor Rita Moreno would be in the audience. It was an important night at the Gardiner. And we only had one full day of rehearsals to get the show up.
With the bustle of getting in costume, warm-ups, fight call, and tests with the rope swings, I didn’t see Beth until we were on stage singing ‘Here’s a first-rate opportunity’ and she was slung over my shoulder. Not really an ideal time to catch up on current events. Cole was relentless with every second of our rehearsal time. We ran the show four times in quick succession with only a half hour to devour a quick lunch. Stella had pizza delivered. I waited in the green room to catch a few words with Beth, but she never came for a slice. At the five-minute call, I found her coming back from the stage door. She was frowning at her phone.
“Hey,” I called to her. “Is everything okay?”
Her eyes betrayed surprise at my appearance. Or maybe horror.
“Yeah, sure,” she answered with a strained giggle. “They really need better hold music at Chula Vista Memorial.”
She’d been on hold with the hospital the entire lunch break.
“You need to eat something.”
“I’ve been snacking on trail mix all day,” she said. “You do not want to throw me over your shoulder with an angry belly full of pizza.”
She laughed adorably and artlessly. I loved her laugh. It was sunshine and summer vacation and frozen bananas on Balboa Island. I was addicted to her laugh, and all I could think about was how I could get her to do it again and again. Maybe she’d have dinner with me. There’s only so much trail mix one can eat.
“What about dinner?” I asked. “After rehearsal.”
I probably should have specified it was an invitation to have dinner with me. Darn words getting in the way of what I really wanted to say.
“Great advice.” She snapped with both hands and shot me finger guns.
Good old friend zone finger guns. “I’ll pick up some tacos on the way home.”
“Right,” I said. “It’s Taco Tuesday.”
“Yep.”
“Not to be confused by Taco Wednesday.”
She laughed again. Oh, my heart!
“Definitely not.” Her little nose crinkled in concert with a bright, effervescent smile. “There’s no comparison.”
A soft blush claimed her features, and I let my eyes rest on them like a weary traveler would look upon his home. I could have stayed there the rest of the day had the overture not begun to play. We were late.
“You should probably get into places,” she said with a warm smile.
“Oh, no,” I cried. “I’m not in costume.”
I didn't have time to ask if we could chat later. I had to run. On the plus side, I got on stage in record time. If only quick changes were an Olympic sport. Bing gave me the wild eye. The one that says ‘Where the heck were you? You almost gave us all a heart attack.’ Admittedly, I barely made it through that number with a spare breath. I was used to running in chase scenes but singing long notes while out of breath is something I wouldn’t recommend. Be prepared for your entrances, folks. That’s your public service announcement for the day.
Fortunately, I knew my part so well after all those continuous run-throughs, I could use my time off-stage to observe Beth from the wings. She was radiant under the lights. She belonged on the stage. A star in the night sky. A golden orb at dusk.
At the top of the second act, as I was lost in the vision of Beth dancing with a lantern in the moonlight, Bing made a comment in my ear.
“She is simply sublime.”
“That she is,” I agreed, never taking my eyes off Beth. Somewhere, it registered that he was speaking about Jane. Her delicate solo in Oh, Dry the Glist’ning Tear was pleasantly lulling. But I only saw Beth. Simply sublime Beth.
“Will,” said Bing when the song ended. “I’ve been doing some soul searching lately.”
That makes two of us.
“I think that’s very wise, Bing.”
“You do?” he said in a surprised tone.
“I do.”
“Oh. Me too.”
“What did you find?” I asked. “When you searched your soul?”
He let out a long sigh, one he’d kept buried deep in his lungs for weeks.
“My best friend in high school. His parents were the worst--always griping,” he said. “They only stayed together for his sake, but they never loved each other.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.” I turned to look at him with sincerity.
“Can you imagine living your life like that? Ending up with a person who’s entirely wrong for you?” His voice quivered slightly. “Especially when there’s someone else out in the world who’s perfect.”
I shook my head. “That would suck.”
“It would totally suck.”
He turned his attention back to the action on stage. He’d have an entrance soon. I observed his face as he watched the object of his affection. He looked so boyish in his goody two shoes sailor costume. He wasn’t a boy, though. And he certainly didn’t need my misguided opinions.
“You won’t let that happen to you,” I observed.
“No.” He puffed up his chest and grabbed his prop to enter the scene. “I won’t. Although I almost did.”
“I’m sorry for that,” I said. “I shouldn’t have interfered at all.”
A short laugh jumped from his throat. “You give yourself too much credit. I’m responsible for my own decisions.”
“If you say so.”
He smiled at me and for the first time in our acquaintance, we both felt the bond of a true friendship.
“I say so,” he said. “Hug it out?”
I slapped him on the back and reached out for a handshake.
“Maybe we can work up to that.”
“Gotcha,” he said, shaking my hand. “See you on stage.”
I watched him make his entrance and join Jane on the stage. He was following his heart. If only I had that same luxury.
30
Something Else
Beth
I should have invited Will over for tacos. There were more than enough to go around; I picked up a party pack at Taco Bell. He probably didn’t eat tacos anyway, washboard stomach and all. Not that I was obsessing over it or anything.
Bing rode with Jane to my apartment, pulling into the parking lot at the same time. I waited at the curb, so we could walk in together, but they weren’t getting out of the car.
“Hey, you guys coming?” I knocked on the hood of Jane’s car. “Nobody likes cold mystery meat.”
Jane waved her hand out the driver’s window. It was dark, but I could swear her eyes glistened with tears.
“Go on ahead,” she said. “We’ll be right in.”
What was going on with these two now? Why was that man always making her cry? I wanted to tap on his window and get some answers. But it was getting chilly, and I knew Jane would tell me eventually. Hopefully, without telenovelas or Cap’n Crunch hair. I made a mental note to hide the remote.
The front door to my apartment was unlocked and as I entered, Lydia’s balloons, flowers, and stuffed animals assaulted my eyes. Was it my imagination, or were there more gifts than before? They took up every spare inch of my apartment.
Lydia lounged on the sofa, propped up with copious amounts of pillows and blankets. Her sister sat next to her on the floor, tenderly stroking her hair.
“Finally,” Lydia exclaimed. “I’m starved.”
Nora had sent me a text an hour before rehearsal ended saying they’d arrived at home, and Lydia was jonesing for bar food. I responded with a taco emoji and she responded, with impeccable grammar, that they would await my arrival. I was so relieved to hear the good news and left the theatre the second Cole finished giving notes.
“Shall I bring your dinner to you and feed you by hand, Cleopatra?” I joked while unpacking the party pack on the breakfast nook.
“Har har,” Lydia grunted as she tried to lift herself from the couch. Nora shot up from the floor to assist her.
“Take it slow, Lydia. I’ll bring you a plate.”
“My butt hurts from sitting on it for two days straight,” replied Lydia. “I think I can manage a few steps to the kitchen.”
Nora wrapped her arm around her sister’s back and helped her maneuver to the kitchen table.
“Should we wait for Jane?” she asked.
“She’s in the parking lot with Bing,” I said resentfully. “Who knows how long they’ll be.”
Nora’s eyebrows arched with curiosity, but she didn’t know us well enough to press for details. All she said was, “Oh.”
“So, are they back together or what?” Lydia asked with a mouth full of crunchy taco.
I shrugged and filled three glasses with water. “Who knows? I can’t keep track anymore.”
I decided I was done worrying about it. I could hardly keep track of my own life.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Nora abandoned her taco to retrieve a smallish box from among the plethora of Lydia’s gifts. “This came for you.”
She handed me the package and sat down to her meal.
It was a simple brown box weighing hardly anything. I looked at the shipping label. One day express. No return address. Curious. I didn’t order anything online. I ran the edge of the kitchen shears over the packing tape and gingerly unfolded the flaps. Packing peanuts spilled on the counter as I reached in to find a smaller box with intricate designs embossed in gold. I recognized it immediately. The year bulb I left behind at Will’s house.