by Maria Siano
Patrick’s face grew stern. "Oh...Well...."
Oh no. Kyle’s chest tightened. Did Patrick see this request as another way to capitalize on Faith’s death, instead of the tribute he meant it to be?
Then a tear fell across Patrick’s cheek and he struggled to blink back more as they flooded his eyes. "Faith would have a smile from ear to ear if she could hear you say you wanted to write a play about her." Patrick’s voice cracked.
"I hope she would approve." Kyle swallowed hard, forcing the lump out of his throat. "So, then would it be OK if I try to get the play produced?"
Patrick took a long sip of coffee. "Knowing what a thrill Faith would have gotten out of it, I have to say yes. That would be a real nice way to honor her life." He rubbed his eye to wipe away a stray tear about to fall. "Listen, Kyle, I wanted to ask you something, too. I’m back on my feet with my business, but many people are in difficult financial situations in Spring Valley. I was lucky you came around when you did to help me out, but others in town aren’t as lucky. And I’d like to be able to help some of them, if I can. The way you helped me." Patrick leaned closer to Kyle. "If we had more affordable housing units in town, it might make a difference. I have this idea for a program to help people who are struggling financially because of medical issues. Would you like to be involved in some way?"
"I would definitely be interested in working with you on that," Kyle confirmed.
"Glad to hear it." Patrick took a giant swig of coffee. "Maybe we can talk to the mayor about it. Together. He might be more receptive to the idea if a fancy actor like yourself proposed it."
The waitress approached. "What else can I get you?" she asked.
Patrick and Kyle ordered burgers. Then the waitress watched as Patrick sipped the last of his coffee. "Be right back with more coffee," she said. She turned and headed to the row of coffee pots next to the kitchen door.
Patrick pushed his empty cup to the far edge of the counter. "We should talk to that reporter, Summer, about our idea."
"Oh...uh..."
"I just thought, since Summer wrote all of those articles in the Observer..." Patrick bowed his head to acknowledge the waitress who had returned to fill his cup.
The waitress moved over a step and refilled Kyle’s cup. Then she turned and walked to the far end of the counter.
Patrick patted Kyle on the back. "You know, I followed the series Summer did from the beginning, months before she wrote about my daughter. And the last article she wrote, about Chet Lightner over on Oakwood Lane, gave me the idea for the affordable housing program. Maybe she could help us follow up with Chet, and some of the other people she wrote about in the past few months. Think she’d help us out?"
"Well...uh..." Kyle stammered. "I’ll talk to her." He nodded. "Sure. I’ll take care of it."
Patrick sipped the steaming coffee. "That Summer is a great girl, huh."
CHAPTER 15
Kyle paced the lobby of the Spring Valley Arts Center as he waited for the president of the center to emerge from his office. Kyle had met Mike Greene back when he was performing in Streetcar there last winter. But this was his first pitch meeting as a playwright. Ever.
He gripped the proposal for his play, Faith, Hope, and Love. Would he be able to convince Mike to produce it?
Mike bounded into the lobby. "Kyle, so good to see you again." Mike extended his hand.
Kyle swiped his sweaty palm on his jeans before shaking Mike’s hand. "Good to see you, Mike. Thanks for meeting with me."
Mike led Kyle into his office.
Kyle sat in one of the two wooden chairs in front of the pine desk while Mike went behind the desk and sank into the oversized tan upholstered chair.
Mike swiveled in the chair as he moved some papers from his desk to the credenza behind him. Then he swung around toward Kyle again. "So, I hear you want to propose a play for us to produce."
Kyle nodded.
"Tell me about it. I’m all ears."
"I wrote the play." Kyle handed Mike the proposal. "It’s called Faith, Hope, and Love. About Faith Sheridan, a young woman who lived in Spring Valley. You may have heard of her. She was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s in her early twenties and she died a year later from an infection in her chemo port. The Observer profiled her before she died, and they wrote about some of the financial struggles her family went through because of the medical bills."
Mike skimmed over the proposal. "Sounds familiar." He continued reading the proposal, never lifting his head. "I’m sure I read about her at the time."
Kyle studied Mike’s reaction. Was that a grimace he detected? He tried to ignore it as he continued. "Faith was a real inspiration, to me, and to everyone around her. As you can see. . ." Kyle pointed to the proposal in Mike’s hand. "Faith is the main character in the play. There’s also a character based on me, and some things I went through when I was diagnosed with cancer myself."
Mike stopped reading and lifted his eyes. "Yes. I was very concerned when I saw the news reports last month. So glad it’s all in the past, though."
Kyle fidgeted in the chair. "I really want to tell Faith’s story."
Mike put the proposal down on his desk. "You know, Kyle, we’ve mostly produced revivals, not original plays."
Kyle sighed and braced for disappointment.
"However...." Mike paused.
Air escaped Kyle’s lips.
Mike lifted the proposal. "We’ve been talking about possibly trying some original productions." He raised the pages in his hand. "So this might be something we would consider."
Kyle threw his head back in relief. "That’s great!" He exhaled.
Mike tilted his head. "I’ll need to take a closer look, but if it seems like a good fit...what if we worked something out where we produce your play, and you direct some of our productions?"
"I think that could work." Kyle rubbed his eyebrow. "What plays did you have in mind?"
"Well..." Mike’s eyes widened. "We were thinking of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof for the fall season, since Streetcar was such a success. We like the idea of sticking with a Tennessee Williams play for our next production. And then we could talk about producing Faith, Hope, and Love in the spring, or next fall, if that timeframe works for you."
Kyle squinted. "I think I have the perfect Brick for you in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof."
Mike’s eyebrows raised. "Are you interested in the part? Are you sure you’ll have the time?"
Kyle shook his head. "No, no. I have someone else in mind. Someone much better. Tyler Oswald. He’d be perfect for it."
"Well, Tyler was a great Stanley Kowalski in Streetcar," Mike agreed. "Let’s set up another meeting for next week, and bring Tyler in then, too. You can schedule it with my assistant on the way out."
Kyle stood. "Looking forward to it." He reached across the desk and shook Mike’s hand.
Mike darted around to the front of the desk. "Thanks for coming in, Kyle."
Kyle staggered out into the lobby and stopped at the assistant’s desk to schedule the next meeting. Then he strolled outside and wandered through the parking lot. As his mind reeled, he almost passed his car but stopped just as he reached the passenger side and turned back. He climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key in the ignition.
He had accomplished everything he set out to do that week.
He made amends with Patrick.
He set things in motion to pursue a career as a playwright and theater director.
And he started to rebuild his relationship with Summer.
For the first time in his adult life, he controlled his future. Not Maxine, or a studio executive. Or the public.
As he pulled out of the parking spot and headed for Dr. Cohen’s office, he just hoped he would have a future.
***
Summer opened the door to the office of the Kyle Mills Fo
undation for Hodgkin’s Research and tiptoed inside. A woman in her sixties sat at the front desk talking on the phone. Summer sat in one of the metal chairs in the lobby and waited for the receptionist to finish the call.
A few minutes later, the receptionist hung up the phone and waved Summer over.
Summer skipped the few feet across the small lobby area. "I’m Summer Madison. I was wondering if Kyle Mills is here. I don’t have an appointment —"
"He should be here any minute." The receptionist glanced up at the clock on the wall. "He’s usually in around noon on Fridays. I’m surprised he isn’t here yet. Let me call him to confirm. You said your name was...."
"Summer Madison." Summer cleared her throat.
"Please have a seat." The receptionist pointed to the chairs next to the front door.
Summer sat back down on the cold metal chair and clutched her purse in her lap as she listened to the receptionist’s side of the phone call.
"Kyle, it’s Alison. There’s someone here by the name of Summer Madison, she...Oh, OK. You’re leaving Dr. Cohen’s office now?...Oh, sorry. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to say where you were...I’ll tell her you’ll be here soon...Right. See you in a little bit."
The receptionist hung up the phone. "Kyle will be here in a few minutes," she called out across the lobby. "Can I get you a cup of coffee while you wait?"
Summer shook her head. "No, thanks. I’m fine."
But as a pit formed in her stomach, she felt anything but fine. Why was Kyle meeting with Dr. Harold Cohen, Faith’s oncologist?
The receptionist glanced over again and Summer forced a smile. Then she glimpsed the time on her watch. 12:17.
Could Kyle’s meeting have something to do with the foundation? Maybe Kyle wanted him to serve on the board of the foundation. Yes. Yes. Must be.
Then a chill shot through Summer’s whole body. What if Kyle’s visit with Dr. Cohen had nothing to do with the foundation? What if Kyle is sick again?
She checked her watch again: 12:22. How could that be? Only five minutes passed?
The large glass door next to Summer flew open and Kyle rushed through, out of breath.
"Hi, Summer." He drew in a long, deep breath.
Summer studied him. "I hope you don’t mind that I stopped by." Did he just get bad news? Or is he fine, perfectly healthy?
Kyle pressed his hand to his stomach. "I’m so happy you’re here. Let me show you around the office."
Summer tried to put her worries aside as she followed him into the large empty room behind the reception area.
Kyle opened his arms wide. "So what do you think of the space?"
Summer envisioned the empty room as a fully occupied office, sectioned off with desks and cubicle walls. "It’s a good space." The small room in the back that still needed a door would likely become Kyle’s office, she suspected. "How many people do you plan to have on staff?"
"We’ll have three full-time employees." Kyle flicked on a few light switches as he roamed around the room. "And we’ll have some volunteers here, from time to time."
Summer pointed to the room in the back. "It will be nice for you to have a separate office there. In case you want to meet with donors or other people who have questions about the foundation."
"I’d rather have a desk out here." Kyle opened his arms and gestured around the room again. "I don’t need an office. And we don’t need cubicle walls, either. We’ll just arrange the desks in a few clusters."
Kyle’s description reminded Summer of a newsroom. Without cubicle walls, and with the desks positioned close together, the reporters in the newsroom nearly sat on top of each other, but it made it easy to ask each other for phone numbers of contacts and talk about their article. Summer missed being in the midst of all of that newsroom chatter. "I think it will create a really good environment in the office." She stepped into the middle of the large space. "No one will feel like a boss, or an underling. It will reinforce how everyone is working toward the same thing. For a non-profit, I think that’s important."
Kyle inched toward the small room in the back and Summer followed.
He leaned against the doorway of the room. "I think we’ll make this a conference room. Or it could become your office, if you..."
Summer stared at the floor. "That’s why I came here today, Kyle—"
"Have you made a decision about the public relations job?" Kyle brushed his foot back and forth as he looked down at the floor.
"Well, it turns out, I have another job offer, from the newspaper I used to work at in New York. My editor there, Robyn, called me a few days ago, and offered me a news editor position." Her body tensed as she glanced up at Kyle.
His face grew pale. "Oh, I see." Kyle frowned. "Is that what you want to do? Do you want to go back to New York?"
Summer took a deep breath. "You know I always planned to return to New York. To return to my old life."
"I know. And I’m glad you have the opportunity to do that. I’ll miss you. But I want you to be happy —"
"For the past year, I thought that was what I wanted. I never even considered staying in Spring Valley. But a few days ago, before Robyn called...I decided to stay in Spring Valley."
"Oh..."
"And that’s still what I want to do. At least for a little while."
Kyle exhaled. "Does that mean...?"
Summer paced in front of the doorway. "Before we talk about the job with the foundation, I need to tell you something. And you might not want me for the job after I tell you. But you need to know. I should have told you this a long time ago...."
"O-kaaaay." Kyle’s voiced trailed.
Summer let out a stream of air. "When you told me about your cousin—"
"Summer, we don’t have to rehash that—"
"No, we do, Kyle." She stepped farther away from him. "You need to hear this, and I need to say it. I was very harsh with you when I found out you lied to me." She looked down. "But I’ve been lying to you, too — or at least keeping something from you." She glanced up at him. "I had no intention of ever telling anyone what you told me about your cousin dying of Hodgkin’s." She exhaled and began to pace in front of the doorway. "But then, a few days after you told me, I found out Drew was going to publish a scathing editorial about you, calling you a publicity hound who was using Faith to advance your career." She stopped pacing and twisted toward Kyle. "I was so afraid it would ruin your one chance for a comeback in Hollywood, I pleaded with Drew not to publish it. I explained how you weren’t using Faith, and knew exactly what she had gone through during her battle with Hodgkin’s, because of your cousin. Before I even knew what I said, I had blurted it all out to him." She lowered her head. "So, whether you agreed to be involved with the article or not, Drew was always going to publish the information." She lifted her eyes and looked up at him.
Kyle crossed his arms. "Why did you try to convince me to go public with the story then? Why didn’t you just let him publish the information? He already knew the juicy details, the details that mattered most to him."
Summer shook her head. "Drew would have completely sensationalized the story. You needed to tell your side, so it didn’t become a story about the Observer getting a scoop and revealing a secret you didn’t want out. You needed a chance to tell the story yourself, which you could only do if you agreed to an interview. Then there would be no scoop. You would be coming forward to reveal the information."
Kyle tilted his head. "You were worried about the damage it could do to my career?" he whispered as he released his arms and they fell to his side.
"That’s all I could think about," she admitted. "But then, when I revealed everything to Drew, I became the person who was potentially damaging your career. It was all my fault. You told me about your cousin in confidence, and I broke your trust by telling Drew."
"You thought you were helping.
" Kyle smiled.
"Some help, huh." Summer frowned and turned away.
Kyle brushed the side of her arm. "Maybe we’ve both been too protective of each other, and our secrets. I think it clouded our judgment."
Summer angled toward him. "I’m sorry. Do you think you could forgive me?"
"I already have." Kyle lowered his head.
"So, if you still want me to work for you..." Summer stared at the dark gray carpet. Then she looked into Kyle’s green eyes. "If the offer still stands..." Had he changed his mind about the job offer?
"Yes, I still want you to—"
"Then I would like to take the job," she blurted out. "If it’s still available."
"Absolutely!" Kyle threw open his arms and gave her a hug. Then he pulled back.
She pulled him toward her. "I know I took a long time to decide about the job." She held him tighter. She didn’t want to let go. "I thought you might have hired someone else already."
"I was waiting for you," Kyle confirmed. "I was hoping you would eventually accept the offer. I’m so glad you’ll be working with me."
"No. For you," she corrected him. She stretched her arms and let go of him. Then she looked into his eyes.
"For the foundation," he insisted.
"But, Kyle, if we’re going to work together, and if we’re going to try to rebuild our relationship, we have to trust each other," Summer whispered. "Can we start fresh from this point? Without any secrets anymore?"
"I’d like that," Kyle agreed. "I realize now, keeping secrets only makes things worse. Much worse. I didn’t believe that before, but I do now. And I don’t want to live like that anymore." He held her hand in his.
"Kyle, I overheard the receptionist talking about your appointment with Dr. Cohen today. Is everything OK?"
Still holding her hand, Kyle led her inside the small empty office area. "Wait here. I’ll be right back."
Summer watched as he ambled over to the lobby and returned with two metal chairs.
"Here," he whispered as he placed a chair beside her.