by D. R. Graham
He nods and slides his hands into his pockets as if he understands, but I can tell by his disappointed expression that he doesn’t get it.
A few cast members rush over to hug me. Leland wanders away as I tell them about Neil Holmes. They’re excited for me, and we dance around like hyper kids before heading down one level to the dressing rooms to change. My phone vibrates in the bottom of my bag. It’s a text from Aiden: You blew me away from the moment you stepped onstage.
I stare at the words for at least five minutes, trying to fit all my feelings into place. Finally, I wash off all the makeup and change into a pair of yoga pants and a hoodie. Everyone else has finished changing and gone back up onstage, so I slide down the wall to sit on the floor with my phone in my hand. Eventually my thumb moves to type: Thanks for coming. It meant a lot to me.
The message sends and even though it’s exactly how I feel, I regret telling him. No matter how unconditionally I can count on him, he can’t give me the life that I want. The confirmation that I still love him like crazy doesn’t change anything.
The screen lights up with his response: I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. Enjoy the cast party. You deserve it.
The fact that he understands the importance of the cast party and Leland doesn’t makes me incredibly sad.
Cara pulled together a nice impromptu after-party. There are enough platters of sushi and sub sandwiches spread out across the kitchen counter to feed the entire auditorium. She has also opened her parents’ liquor cabinet. I circulate and start to take a collection of five bucks from everyone, but when she finds out, she makes me give the money back.
“Cara, you don’t have to pay for everything.”
“We’re celebrating. What do you think credit cards are for?”
“I know you can’t afford it,” I whisper.
She smiles and whispers back, “I got a little side job in merchandising. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m going to pay you back.”
“No, you’re not. Just go have fun.” She rushes off to ask people what they want to drink.
I look around and sigh. There are a few people, including Sam and Cooper, outside in the hot tub. Everyone else is crowded into the kitchen and family room. As I pop a sushi roll into my mouth, Leland sneaks up, wraps his hand around mine, and pulls gently. I quickly grab another roll before letting him drag me outside. We walk past the hot tub and head toward a private part of the yard near the back fence. The only light is the wavy blue glow from the underwater lights of the pool. I sit down on an old tire swing.
Leland shoves his hands in his pockets. “My parents are hosting a dinner party next Saturday night. A few people my mom knows who work in the theater business on Broadway are going to be there. I thought you might want to meet them.”
That would be an unreal opportunity, but I’m still mad at him for not being Aiden. I know it’s stupid since I don’t want him to be like Aiden. God, I don’t even want Aiden to be like Aiden. I just want Leland to understand me like Aiden does, to love me like he does. I don’t say anything because he’s never going to be able to do that.
“Are you going to ignore me forever or just the rest of the night?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.”
“Okay. Well, I know you’re not mad at me because you would have slashed my tires or set me on fire by now if you were angry.”
I push my toe off the dirt and make the tire spin. He comes in and out of view with each rotation. When the momentum slows down I spin in the opposite direction and watch the rope unravel. He clutches the rope to make it stop swinging before he leans down to kiss me. I turn my head to avoid him and scoot around his body to stand behind him. He’s still resting his weight on the rope, staring at the ground, looking dejected.
He closes his eyes in frustration. “What’s the problem, Tienne?”
“Nothing. I should get back to the party.”
He sighs and runs his hands through his hair as if he’s exhausted and unsure whether I’m worth the hassle. “All right.” He kisses my cheek. “I’m going to head home. Have fun.”
I nod, not wanting to prolong an argument that I know full well isn’t really about texting during the performance. After he leaves, I walk over to sit next to Sam and Cooper who are the only people still in the hot tub. Sam has his arm stretched along the edge behind Cooper’s shoulders and they look lovey-dovey. “Hey super star. Are you having fun?” Cooper asks.
I should be having fun. I would be having the time of my life if I could figure out how to stop loving Aiden and start loving Leland. I sigh and tug at the cuff of my hoodie.
“What’s wrong? Are you fighting with Leland?”
“Not fighting. I’m just disappointed that he was late and more focused on his text messages than the play.”
“He must feel bad about it,” Sam says. “I heard him on the phone postponing his business trip to Asia so he can attend all the other performances.”
Oh. That’s sweet, but doesn’t change how I feel. “It still bothers me. He knows how important opening night was to me.”
Sam laughs. “No offense, Tienne, but he works for a multibillion-dollar company on multimillion-dollar contracts. You should probably be happy that he even showed up.”
Even though that’s true, it feels like he slapped me. “Gee, Sam. Tell me how you really feel.”
“Sorry for being blunt, but who cares if he was late and texting? You’re overreacting. He likes you a lot and you’re being kind of hard on him.”
“How do you know how he feels about me?”
“I was in the locker room at the club, and his friends were bugging him because he hasn’t sealed the deal with you yet. He told them that it was different with you, and he told them to shut up.” Sam shrugs. “I don’t know what that means in the straight world, but to me, it seems like he might like you.”
That doesn’t make me feel any better, and I don’t know why. What I do know is that I don’t want to think about it anymore tonight. I sigh again and then look at Cooper. “Do you want to catch a ride home with me later?”
Cooper slouches deeper into the water as if he’s considering dipping under the surface to avoid having to answer the question. He glances at Sam and Sam smiles before answering for Cooper, “I invited Cooper to stay over.”
“Ah.”
Cooper checks my expression nervously. I don’t know why since he knows I approve. He must just be embarrassed because it’s his first time.
“If it’s okay with you, I’ll drive him home tomorrow,” Sam says.
“It’s all right with me if it’s all right with Cooper.”
Cooper blushes.
“Keep it safe, boys.” I lean over the edge and kiss Cooper’s cheek. “I love you, Lucky Boy.”
I’m not in the mood to enjoy the cast party, but if I leave I know I won’t go home. I read Aiden’s text again. Then head inside to try to have fun.
Chapter Fourteen
Leland has attended every performance since opening night. He sits in the front row and gives me roses after each show. When the curtain goes down on our Saturday matinee, he waits backstage with another bouquet. I join him and he kisses me on the cheek as he hands me the flowers.
“It’s really cool how you literally turn into Maria when you’re onstage. You’re the only one who doesn’t seem like you’re acting.”
“Thank you.” I press the petals of the roses to my nose and smile. I have to admit that I like getting flowers. And I like it even more that he didn’t give up. “Are your parents still having the dinner party tonight?”
“Yes. Would you like to be my date?”
I pretend that I’m mulling it over. “If I go, it will be strictly to network with influential people.”
“I’m pretty influential. Does that mean you and I get to do a little networking?”
“Not likely.” I shove his shoulder playfully and he laughs.
He wraps his arms around my waist a
nd sits on the edge of a table to make us closer to the same height. “Did you make Jill work this hard?”
“His name is Gylly, and yes, I did. He’s known me since I was born and I made him prove for fifteen years that he was date-worthy before I gave in.”
“Jesus. I’ll be thirty-five by then.”
“Everyone has to prospect, but I might fast-patch you if you can hold your mud.”
“Everybody has to what?”
“Sorry. I forgot that you’re not a One Percenter.”
His expression is strange, and I’m not sure if he’s confused by what I said, or if he has something else on his mind. He rubs his temple for a second, then looks at me hesitantly. “My mom is going to be way harder on you than you’ve been on me. You’re probably not going to like her.”
“I can handle myself.”
He smiles and runs his hand along my neck. “I know you can. That’s one of the many things I like about you.” He leans in and kisses me in a way that takes my breath away.
Cooper picks out my outfit for the Crofton dinner party—a charcoal-colored pencil skirt, white blouse, and light blue formfitting cardigan that matches my eyes. It’s a bit geek for my taste, but he insists that it will make a good impression. Elizabeth rushes in as Cooper is pinning my hair into loose tendrils. She looks excited. I watch in the mirror as she sits on the edge of my bed.
“Okay. Cecile Crofton is a little elitist and, although you are perfect just the way you are and she would be insane not to love you, you might want some ammo. She is very dedicated to her charity work. Ask her about the food bank or the youth-at-risk projects.”
Cooper looks at me in the mirror and makes a face because he and I both spent years going to the youth-at-risk programs at our community center. “She’ll definitely like the fact that her son is dating a charity case,” I say and apply lip gloss.
Elizabeth either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that Cooper and I are laughing. “She owns horses, which they keep at their farmhouse and stables. They have a cottage at Lake Tobin. She’s a major donor for the performing arts program at her old university, and she used to dance on Broadway. Bryant Crofton owns an international construction business.”
“You know a lot about the members. Does that mean the entire club also knows that your sister is a junkie who married an outlaw biker who did time for murder and then got smoked with a taste of his own medicine?”
“Tienne. Don’t talk about your parents in such a negative way.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
“I know. It just sounds so bad when you blurt it out. You’ll terrify the Croftons if you talk like that.”
“They’ve probably already asked around,” I mumble.
She stands and hugs me. “You look beautiful. Just be yourself and they’ll love you.”
The doorbell rings and Elizabeth bolts out to answer it. Cooper sprays a tiny puff of perfume about three feet away from me, because one of his pet peeves is women who wear too much scent. He slides the chair out for me and offers his elbow to escort me downstairs. Leland stands in the foyer wearing a chocolate-brown suit and light blue shirt that matches my sweater so well you’d think he planned it. He looks insanely nervous and wipes his palms on his trousers before he shakes Blaine’s hand. He smiles when he sees me, but his lip is actually trembling a little bit.
I slide up and kiss him. “Please don’t be nervous. I’ve got this.”
He smiles and squeezes my hand without his usual confidence. It’s weird to see him rattled.
Elizabeth shouts, “Have fun!” as we walk down the path and waves as we drive away. Leland breathes out a short loud burst of air as if he’s preparing to go into the ring for ten rounds.
“Seriously, calm down.”
He presses his lips together and nods. “Okay. I’m good now.”
I roll my eyes because he is so obviously not calmer. Gylly’s dad is the international president of an outlaw motorcycle club. If I’m not nervous around him, I doubt I’ll be nervous around two well-mannered socialites. Leland, on the other hand, looks like he’s going to pass out. Maybe he’s having second thoughts about bringing trash home.
He parks in his parents’ driveway. I’ve only ever been to his apartment, so I take a good look at the family house. It’s really big, but kind of cookie-cutter boring, like something you would see in a home and garden magazine. He walks around to my side to open the passenger door. I squeeze his hand and remind him that I can handle it. He nods again and leads me toward the front door. It swings open as we step up onto the veranda, and both of his parents appear in the doorway, smiling at us. His dad is tall and thin. He’s wearing khaki pants and a pink checked shirt. His mom is wearing a beige dress with a pearl necklace and beige pumps. Her hair is dark and wavy like Leland’s. They look like the middle-aged models in a department store catalog.
“Mom. Dad. I’d like to introduce you to Tienne Desrochers. Tienne, this is my mom, Cecile, and my dad, Bryant.”
His mom steps toward me and air kisses my cheek. His dad shakes my hand with authority. I smile at Leland and make one of Elizabeth’s happy chipmunk faces to encourage him to relax. His shoulders drop a little bit and he rests his hand on my lower back to lead me into the formal living room. Cassidy just asked me to order the same two-hundred-dollar-a-yard Steelcut Trio couch fabric for a client. It feels luxurious to the touch, but I would have a panic attack every time someone went near it with a glass of wine if it were in my house. Mrs. Crofton introduces me as Leland’s girlfriend to the other guests. It sounds strange, but the way the people smile at me when they hear it makes me feel good.
After mingling for a while, Leland hands me a glass of wine. He downs his own in two gulps and refills it. After most of the guests step out onto the veranda, his mom walks over to where we’re standing near the fireplace and lays her hand on Leland’s arm. “Slow down, dear.”
He doesn’t appear to appreciate her telling him what to do and, in an act of defiance, he takes a very slow sip.
“You have a lovely home,” I say and flash a Cara-type smile as if I didn’t notice their exchange.
“Thank you, Tienne. Perhaps Leland will give you a tour after dinner.”
“I enjoyed talking with your friend Catherine. She attended the school in New York that I would like to go to.”
She smiles. “Oh, Leland said you were an interior designer. I didn’t realize you were involved in the arts.”
Leland gets tense and says, “She played Maria in the production of West Side Story. She wants to attend the Academy. I told you that.”
“Of course. I remember now. Have you auditioned for the school yet?”
“I’m planning on it. The next round of auditions will be next month.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. I’m glad you’re planning to pursue something that you’re passionate about. Leland was always such a good student, but he wasn’t motivated to pursue post-secondary studies. He just didn’t apply himself.”
Mr. Crofton wanders over and stands next to her. He notices the way Leland is glaring at his mom with contempt but, instead of saying anything, he tips his glass back to take a swig of booze.
“I would love to hear about the time you spent on Broadway,” I say to break the tension.
Her eyes sparkle a little and she chuckles slightly. “Oh, it lasted less than a year and it was a very long time ago. I barely remember it.” Her hand rests on my arm momentarily. “Interior design is probably a better choice long-term, but good for you for following your dreams.”
Leland’s hand tightens around mine as if he knows that her comment made my blood pressure go up.
“What does your father do?” Mr. Crofton asks, and the ice cubes in his highball clink together as he finishes off the drink.
“My father passed away a few months ago.”
Leland shoots a vicious look at his dad as if they had perhaps agreed not to talk about that topic, but his dad broke the promise. “Oh, that’s terribl
e,” his mom gasps. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“What did he do for a living?” his father presses.
“He was in charge of manufacturing and distribution for an international organization.”
“Which organization?”
I might as well be honest. It’s not like he’s going to have a clue what an outlaw motorcycle club is. “It was an OMC. Have you heard of those?”
His eyebrows draw together as if he is debating whether he should lie and say that he has heard of it to avoid looking uninformed, or fess up that he has no clue. “No. I can’t say that I have.”
Leland coughs as if he’s trying to hide a snicker. The wine has relaxed him, hopefully not too much.
Mr. Crofton notices Leland’s reaction, but stays focused on me. “How did your dad die, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“It was actually a tragic workplace accident. The police are still investigating and charges may be laid. My brother and I moved in with my aunt and uncle after his death.”
“Where is your mother?” Mrs. Crofton asks.
“My mother suffers from a debilitating disease, so my aunt and uncle have been kind enough to let us live with them while she seeks treatment.” Using a throat breathing trick I learned from my junior high drama teacher, I make my eyes water. Imagining Aiden hurt in a motorcycle accident was the tragic thought that I always used for stage cries. It still works. They stop asking questions.
His mom’s expression softens. “Oh, sweetheart, we didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sure dinner is ready.” She moves to invite Mr. Crofton and the other guests into the dining room. Leland offers his hand and we follow everyone to the table.
They have a maid who is actually dressed in a gray uniform dress. I feel uncomfortable letting her serve me without tipping in return. Leland holds my knee under the table and every time his mom says something critical about him, his grip tightens. Her compliments are backhanded insults and I can see why it irritates him. His dad just seems like he wishes he were somewhere else. I make small talk with the other guests for a while, then I ask Mr. Crofton some questions about his company. He’s brief with his answers and the conversation doesn’t go anywhere. I give up trying to be formal and instead ask him what I know gets the majority of the male species talking, “So, Mr. Crofton, are you a football fan?”