Waiting in the Wings

by Melissa Brayden

  I sat back, triumphant. “You consistently underestimate me.”

  Her laughter died down and she was left smiling back at me. Something flickered behind her eyes. “You’d think I’d have learned that lesson by now.”

  I felt flushed and uncomfortable. I didn’t know what to say to this. Our eyes held for a beat or two longer than casual and I finally had to glance down at my hands in my lap.

  Adrienne rescued us. “So how quick do you think we can do this?”

  “I think the question is how quick can you do this. They don’t call me One-Take McGovern for nothing.”

  She raised her eyebrows and laughed. “First of all, no one calls you that. Second of all, double or nothing you screw up more takes than I do.”

  I extended my hand across the table. “Deal.”

  “Fabulous.” She shook my hand as a production assistant approached and handed us two new sheets of dialogue.

  “Wait. What are these?” I asked her retreating form.

  “Script rewrites,” the assistant shot back. “Hot off the presses. Frank says you can take a few minutes to look them over, but they need to shoot soon.”

  I scanned the page, my jaw dropping as I took in the bad news. The meager five lines I’d committed to memory earlier in the afternoon had been replaced with what must have amounted to thirty mammoth new ones. What the hell? I looked up at Adrienne who blinked back at me innocently, clearly enjoying this. “So not fair,” I pointed out.

  “I love this film,” she said gleefully.

  *

  A hundred years and thirteen takes later, the three of us girls walked down the studio street to our trailers, laughing through extreme exhaustion as Adrienne recounted the details of the bet to Michelle.

  “Well, I’m happy my public and professional torture amuses the two of you so much,” I said.

  “Since Jenna’s not coming to the bar, how about a quick drink in my trailer to cap off this crazy day?” Adrienne offered.

  “I’m in,” Michelle replied.

  “I could use a cocktail, sure.”

  We climbed the steps to Adrienne’s trailer and I looked around, noticing that yet again her place was bigger than mine. “How do you always swing the nicer digs, Kenyon? When do the rest of us reach your star level?”

  “It’s all in the negotiation. Put it in your contract next time, Miss Golden Globe.”

  “I didn’t win,” I said in mock sorrow.

  “You should have. Mojitos?”

  The comment registered. Adrienne had seen my movie. I filed that away to think about another time, not sure why it struck such a chord in me.

  “Bring them on,” Michelle crowed.

  Adrienne mixed the drinks in her deluxe kitchen and passed them out. She raised her glass. “To ruined takes and free liquor.”

  “I’ll drink to that.”

  “Cheers,” I said. We clinked glasses and I studied Adrienne’s profile as she drank.

  Michelle’s cell phone rang and she jumped up. “Oh! It’s my husband. I’m going to take this outside. Don’t touch my drink.” She backed away and pointed at us.

  Adrienne pulled her knee onto the couch and turned to face me. “Since we have a sec, I’d like to run something by you if that’s okay.”

  “Sure. Go for it.”

  “I have an offer on the table and wouldn’t mind hearing your opinion on the project.”

  “What kind of offer are we talking about here?” I raised my eyebrows.

  She laughed and shoved me playfully. “It’s a job offer. Broadway.”

  “You’re kidding. What’s the show?”

  “They’re reviving Cabaret and have offered me Sally.”

  I sat up straighter and thought this through. Adrienne would make a killer Sally Bowles. Just the idea of it got me excited for her. “What’s to think about? You have to do it.”

  “The idea scares the hell out of me. Despite everything, people still think of me as that teenager from TV. Plus, I wouldn’t want to do the role the same old way everyone’s already done it. How would I make it my own? It’s just, I don’t want to get in over my head.”

  I took her hand automatically. “Adrienne, why do you always sell yourself short? If there is anyone who can do this part, it’s you. You have amazing talent, and when people see you onstage, it’s clear to them why you’re there. Not only that, but you have this remarkable presence about you that draws people in, and you’re capable of doing that to thousands of people at once. I’ve seen it firsthand. There’s no one better. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

  “Do you really feel that way?” She was absently tracing small circles across my hand with her thumb. She seemed sincerely touched by what I’d said, as if she didn’t know these things about herself.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Thank you for saying that. Hearing it from you really helps.”

  “It does?”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  I pulled my hand back, as I didn’t think I could stand much more attention from that thumb. There was already a noticeable stirring in my lower abdomen that I immediately shook off, offended by my body’s reaction to a friendly touch. I was pretty sure Adrienne was unaware of what she had been doing. It was a casual gesture and I internally cursed myself.

  Adrienne straightened, snapping out of it. “What about you? I’m surprised to see you mixed up in the movie biz. I always thought you’d stick with theater. It was your home.”

  “I miss it, but I needed a break after my run with the LA company and Latham found a small part in an indie feature. One project led to another and here I am.” I gestured around the room. “I guess I’ve kind of gone where the water was warm. I’d like to get back though. Maybe soon.”

  “You should, Jenna. You’re the kind of triple threat people only talk about. You’re the real deal. You’re still dancing, right?”

  “Nothing professional since Clean Slate.”

  She looked at me incredulously. “That’s an absolute travesty.”

  “I didn’t plan it this way. The films kept coming and the idea of turning down steady work in this business, well, it just seems to go against nature.”

  “There’s some truth to that, yes. But you’re in a position now where you can be a little more particular, don’t you think?”

  “Try convincing Latham of that.”

  She sighed and sat up straighter as if on a mission, trying to explain herself another way. “Andrew Latham is a great agent, Jenna, but he works for you. You need to remember that. It’s your career we’re discussing, not his. Don’t let him pressure you into projects. Ever.”

  She had a valid point and it reminded me of how much I’d learned from Adrienne when I’d first started in the business. I decided right there to take what she said to heart. “If you want to go theatrical, I think you’d be able to find the work.”

  “It would take some time to get myself in physical shape for a job in musical theater again.” I rested my head in my hands. “Hell, I don’t even know if I’m capable of it anymore. It’s just been too long.”

  “It’s been longer for me and you’re telling me to jump back in. Hypocritical much?” She arched her eyebrow knowingly.

  “Apparently.” I lowered my head.

  “All right then, it’s settled. You’re going to get yourself back in primo dancing shape. Put it on the list.”

  I blinked at her. “What makes you think there’s a list?”

  “Please. There’s always a list. I’m guessing it’s color-coded.”

  She was right. It was. I was surprised to find out she still had my number on that kind of thing. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. “Okay then. It’s on the list.”

  She winked playfully. “Progress. I love it.”

  We both turned simultaneously as her phone on the coffee table next to us began to dance around from the vibration of an incoming call. Adrienne leaned over to read the caller ID before settling casually back onto the couch. “I
wonder what happened to Michelle? Maybe she’s ditched us after all.”

  I shrugged but couldn’t take my eyes off the phone as it conspicuously continued its notification. It occurred to me that Adrienne might be choosing not to answer the call because I was in the room. “If you’d like to take that, I can go.” I gestured toward the door of her trailer. “I should probably head out anyway.”

  “No, please stay,” she said. “I’m just not feeling especially ‘on’ right now.”

  “And you would need to be ‘on’ to take that call?”

  “Kind of. The truth is it’s a woman I’m sort of…talking to.”

  “Ah, that kind of call.” I smiled knowingly.

  “No!” She swatted my arm, hard. “Not that kind of call and stop teasing me.”

  “All right, all right.” I laughed with my hands up in mock surrender. “Just please don’t hit me again.” We both relaxed a little and settled back onto the couch. I looked at Adrienne expectantly, urging her to continue.

  “All right, so here it is. I think I like her, and I haven’t liked someone in well, a while. We just don’t know each other well enough that we’re to the point of, I don’t know, comfortability yet. Is that a word?”

  “I don’t think it is.” I laughed. “But wait, so the problem is you’re not comfortable with her yet?”

  “You know the point where you’re completely yourself with someone, one hundred percent, flaws and all?” I nodded and tried my damndest to look interested and at ease even though it felt completely weird talking to Adrienne, my ex-girlfriend, about her love life.

  “Well, we’re not there yet. I’m still going out of my way to put my best foot forward, impress her, that kind of thing, and I don’t think I have the energy for that in this particular moment. It’s been a long day.”

  “I see. And where did we meet this charmer?”

  “You’re still teasing me.”

  “A little. Answer the question.”

  “At a party in the Meatpacking District. She works in fashion, mid to upper level.”

  “Aha. Does said fashionista have a name?”

  “Kimberly. Kim.”

  “Kimberly is a very nice name. A sexy name.”

  “It is a nice name, but that’s all you’re getting out of me tonight, Barbara Walters. We should talk about you now. Who has your cell phone ringing lately?”

  “No one really.”

  “No one? How can that be?”

  “Well, I guess there is a girl I talk to, to use your words.”

  “Aha. I knew it. Spill.”

  “There’s nothing to spill. We enjoy each other, but it’s very casual.”

  “Are you to that ‘comfortable’ stage?”

  I thought of Paige and all the things we’d done together. “Yeah, I think you could say that.”

  Her eyebrows bounced up. “Would you say—”

  Adrienne didn’t have a chance to inquire further, however, as Michelle chose that moment to race into the room. “All right, chicas, I’m ready for some grub. Ready to head out, Age?”

  I smiled at Adrienne victoriously.

  “You’re not off the hook. We’ll talk more later.”

  I rose from the couch. “Of course we will,” I answered innocently.

  “Give Lanie a hug for me. Tell her I’m looking forward to the wedding.”

  “I will. ‘Night, guys. Stay out of trouble.” I opened the door and started out before I simply had to turn back. “Oh and, Adrienne, you have nothing to be afraid of. I mean it.”

  She looked back at me pensively and smiled, saying nothing.

  *

  “Well, you haven’t killed each other yet, that’s something,” Lanie said through the dressing room door. “Try this one.” She slung a yellow satiny dress over the door.

  I wiggled into the hideous cotton candy pink thing the salesgirl had dropped off and frowned at myself in the dressing room mirror. “No, that’s just it. We’re getting along really well. It’s nice.” I turned sideways. “I’m not wearing this, by the way, and if you care about me at all you wouldn’t want me to.”

  “Open the door.”

  I obliged and even took my fashion model runway walk through the length of the boutique. Lanie rolled her eyes at my shenanigans. “Okay, so it’s a little too pink. You know what I’m thinking? Blue. You’re my only attendant so this dress should be all about you. When I think Jenna, I think blue. We need to match those eyes of yours.”

  I returned to the dressing room. “I could do blue.”

  “So when you’re with Adrienne, in your new and mature friendship capacity, there isn’t a part of you that wants to rip her clothes off like the old days?” The mere mention of that made me freeze partway out of the dress, envisioning Adrienne four years ago, naked and beautiful in my bed. The truth was I hadn’t allowed my thoughts to fully move in that direction until Lanie’s remark. My mouth went completely dry. I stared at myself in the mirror and noticed my reddened face. Rallying, I forced the very powerful image from my mind and focused on the conversation.

  I opened the door and peered out at Lanie, serious now. “No, absolutely not. We’re friends.”

  “Do you want to just be friends?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I want. Now let’s find us a dress, shall we?”

  “Your wish is my command. Finish getting out of this thing. I think I saw a contender over yonder.”

  I pulled back. “Yonder? Really, we’re going with yonder?”

  “Uh-huh.” She tapped my nose and walked away. Her comments had started the wheels in my head turning, however. As I undressed, I contemplated my state of mind. Did I still have feelings for Adrienne? But the answer was immediate. No. Adrienne and I were ancient history, and though at one point I was hurt by the fact she didn’t fight for our relationship, I was past all that. We were covering new ground and getting to know each other in a different capacity and so far, it was a very good thing. Okay, so she was still smokin’ hot, maybe even hotter now than four years ago, but that didn’t change anything.

  Lanie was right about the dress she’d spotted. It was gorgeous and seemed to fit like it was made for me. When I came out of the dressing room, Lanie said nothing at first and then nodded, exhaling. “And there it is. Wow. Wow. I think we have to take this one, kiddo. What do you think?”

  I looked at myself in the mirror, turned sideways, and smiled. I felt elegant and beautiful. I’d never been one who was self-conscious about my looks, knowing I was attractive enough, but there was something remarkable about putting on an outfit that can transform the way you see yourself. The dress was midnight blue with thin straps holding up the fitted bodice. It fell freely below the waist but still outlined the curves my body offered. “I like it.”

  “Sold!” Lanie called out to the salesgirl, waving her charge card in the air.

  *

  “Sky, you’re killing me. Are you going to deal?”

  “I don’t know that I want to play another round with you. I’m down fifty bucks already.”

  I looked at my very handsome fake boyfriend and wiped an imaginary tear from my eye. “That’s a pretty sad story. You should sell it to Access Hollywood.”

  He grabbed his heart as if I’d shot an arrow through it. We were killing time in my trailer until we were needed on set. The day had been fairly light for me, just a lot of waiting around. Sky was eager to show the little lady how to play cards, so I decided to let him.

  Adrienne knocked twice on the door and wandered into the trailer just as Sky begrudgingly dealt the cards again. I surveyed her outfit, baggy jeans and white T-shirt with something orange spilled down the front of it. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail with long pieces falling haphazardly out. She looked not at all like herself. “Nice outfit,” I said sweetly, glancing up from my cards.

  “Isn’t it? We just shot the scene where my child throws a tantrum and spits up all over me in the grocery store. Hard times for Delaney.”

  �
��Sounds like it,” Sky said apologetically.

  “I liked holding that little guy, though.” She sat on the arm of the couch. “I could see myself with one like him someday.”

  I tried to imagine Adrienne with a child and it wasn’t hard. She was nurturing and warm and the thought of her cradling and singing to a baby made me smile. I looked up at her. “You know, I could see that too. You would be a great mom, I think.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “Maybe in a few years. You never know. Better hurry up with that game though. They’re going to need you guys next. I’m going to go get changed. Just wanted to say hi.” She turned to leave. “Oh, and, Sky, just give her the money now. She’s hustling you.”

  I leaned in and whispered, “I am not. She’s just jealous because she’s not as good as you are.” He nodded knowingly as I proceeded to take him for another fifty and change.

  *

  I had a love-hate relationship with snow. I loved how it looked from the cozy safety of the indoors, a mug of hot chocolate warming my hands as I gazed out at its white drifts. I hated it when I was forced out into its cold, slushy reality. Wouldn’t you know it? It was snowing in New York on this particular day of shooting, and to my utter dismay, our scene du jour took place outdoors. Production decided the snow was not a problem and would enhance the scene. So instead of rescheduling the day, we were shooting in the damn snow. My mom had been nice enough to ship my heavy coat a few days earlier once the forecast was in, but the chill seemed to follow me everywhere I went.