Tom looked over the stage. Would Frank’s castmates treat him differently after they knew?
Tom didn’t want to think so. They were adults or near adults in the case of the couple of drama students in the production.
He needed to calm Frank down and maybe get the rest of the cast thinking a little outside of themselves. A game, maybe?
A hip-hop electronic ringtone blared from a chair, and Reina, one of the invisible servants, hopped offstage to answer it.
“Sorry. New babysitter.”
Tom sighed.
“Okay. We need to refocus. Let’s stop the rehearsal and play an improv game instead.” Tom ran a hand through his hair, surprised it didn’t pull out in clumps from restraining everyone’s attempts to reblock. Reina finished up her call and joined them back onstage.
“Cool.” Celia jumped up from where she’d sprawled.
The rest of the cast circled Tom. At least he had their attention.
“In case you’ve never played one of these, there are two reasons we do them. They help you better collaborate with your castmates. And they help you recover when something goes wrong onstage. Because things will go wrong.” Tom eyed each of his players. “There is no such thing as a perfect run. Learning to be quick on your feet and in your responses will stand you in good stead on the stage and elsewhere in life.”
Tom rubbed his hands together, assessing his small cadre of actors. “I think we’ll start with a game of questions.” He motioned to his leading lady. “Gabriella, would you like to assist me in beginning?”
“Certainly.” Gabriella swept over to the center stage opposite Tom.
“Okay. We’ll do a scene by asking each other questions and replace the first person to say a statement instead of a question. Campbell, you’ll be up next for whoever misses, and you’ll need to change the scene. Each time a new person comes onstage, the setting changes. Got it?”
Tom waited until he saw the nods. Frank frowned. It made his lips purse, and Tom wanted to kiss away his uncertainty. Did Frank recognize this as a way to lead into his revelation? “This isn’t hard, Frank. I promise. Just have fun with it. Okay, somebody give us a place.”
“Coffee shop,” Danny offered.
“What would you like to order, ma’am?” Tom took his place in front of Gabriella and mimed using a coffee machine.
Gabriella placed a hand beside her mouth. “What’s your most popular drink?”
“Do you like chocolate?” This was a favorite game from his high school drama club days, and he’d played it with Gabriella throughout senior year.
“Vanilla is— Darn it.” Gabriella stomped her foot, but she was smiling. Campbell ambled up to take her place.
“Do you have anything stronger in this place, barkeep?” Campbell mimed tipping back a cowboy hat.
“Do you mean whiskey?” Tom played along with the change to a Western setting and pretended to pull a cork out of a bottle with his teeth before pouring an imaginary shot.
“When do you think the stagecoach will arrive?” Campbell twirled invisible six guns.
“I reckon— Oops.” Tom motioned to Emma. “Your turn, Emma. Remember to change the scene.”
“I declare—”
“Celia, take Emma’s place. This is questions, remember.” Tom waved Emma back. Emma pouted and shook her head but retreated. Celia skipped to center stage.
“Would you like to taste my lollipop?”
Campbell’s eyes turned wicked. “Why yes, little girl, I would.” He wrung his hands lasciviously, making the rest of the cast laugh as he retired to the side.
“Danny, you’re up.” Tom motioned to the younger player to take Campell’s place.
Danny walked onstage, pretending to be lost. “Do you know the way to the airport?”
Celia straightened her shoulders. “Are you looking for a domestic or international flight?”
“Which one has the most leg room?”
“Which airline are you flying on?”
“Can I check my bags on a domestic flight?” Danny countered.
“Are you expecting them to arrive at your destination?” Celia blinked her eyelashes at him, making everyone laugh.
“Where can I get a sandwich?” Danny arched an eyebrow.
“In the— Aww,” Celia sputtered.
“Good job.” Tom waved at Frank. “You try, Frank.”
Frank hesitated, shaking his head.
“Okay, we’ll come back to you.” Tom didn’t want to put Frank on the spot, but he’d hoped for participation. “Reina.” Tom waved to another of the invisible servants.
Reina’s blonde curls bounced as she faced Danny. “When did you redecorate your bathroom?”
Danny blinked, the mental switching of gears visible on his face. “Why don’t you inspect the new shower?”
“This is beautiful— Um.” Reina hung her head and walked back to the side.
“Stan.” Tom waved another one of the high school students forward.
The teenager took his place in front of Danny and then slouched. “When is the final exam?”
Danny pretended to open a book with a bored expression. “Have you studied yet?”
“Studied?”
Tom made a T with his hands. “Time out. While a word can be a question in real life, try to make it a full sentence, Stan.”
Stan hunched again. “When would I have time to study?”
“Don’t you want to make something of your life?” Danny’s impression of a stern teacher produced a chuckle from the other players.
“I don’t— Crap.” Stan thunked his forehead with his palm. “This is harder than I thought.”
“Don’t beat yourself up.” Tom grinned. “Aimee, you try.”
“Isn’t the weather beautiful today?” Aimee asked, stepping onto the stage.
Danny didn’t answer, tongue-tied in the face of Aimee’s sultry delivery.
“Bzzzzz!” Tom made a buzzer noise. “Frank?”
“Come on, Frank, try it,” Gabriella encouraged him. “It’s fun.”
Frank had a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face. But this time he walked onstage to take Danny’s place.
“So, um, where do you work?” Frank’s opener lacked creativity, but at least he was trying. Tom nodded when Frank glanced at him for reassurance.
Aimee twirled a finger in her hair. “Have you ever been ballooning?”
“Were you the one piloting the big red balloon that flew over the local football field?” Frank stuttered a little with his reply, but it was good. The writer side of Frank had come out to play. Maybe it would take his mind off the big reveal.
“Yep. Oops.” Aimee popped her hand over her mouth.
“You did great, Frank. Wanna keep playing, everybody?” A chorus of yeahs met Tom. “Okay, same rotation.” Tom stepped in front of Frank.
“Are you enjoying the play?” Tom began the scene to establish them as two chatting theatergoers.
“Are you sure you want to leave town after the play?” Frank’s eyes widened as if the wrong question had popped out of his mouth. Like it had been the one on his mind. He looked down at his feet.
“Did you know I live in New York?” It was a question Tom had been thinking about too. He loved his family; he might even love Frank. No, strike that. He was falling for Frank. But could he return to Waycroft Falls and admit he’d failed everyone’s (including his own) idea of him as an actor in New York?
“Have you thought about staying?” Frank crossed and then uncrossed his arms. His question wasn’t part of the game. Tom would bet money on it. Tom debated ending his turn.
“Haven’t you ever wanted to pursue a dream?” The words came out flat, bitter in Tom’s mouth.
“Do directors always date their leads?” Frank focused on him, his eyes narrowing into laser points that pierced Tom, flayed him open. Tom wanted to forget they were standing onstage, forget the other actors all watching this real drama unfolding in front of them, probably thinki
ng it was just another improv scene. He wanted to forget this play and his increasing guilt at convincing Frank to play the lead, to expose himself and his secrets. But Tom couldn’t. And he couldn’t let this go on any longer either.
“You know fairy tales aren’t real, don’t you, Frank?” And just like that, the intimate moment shattered, and the world swept back in on Tom. Nobody breathed. The proverbial pin failed to drop as Tom and the cast waited for Frank’s reply. The excruciating stillness broken finally by the creak of someone coming up the stairs.
THE GASP OF a breath and a pant of fear from his inner wolf brought Frank back. Around him, time flowed again. Emma jumped down from the stage to greet Annie, who’d arrived with a plate of homemade cookies for the cast.
The rest of the players followed her, leaving the discomfort to stand between Frank and Tom onstage.
It was too much to bear. Frank rubbed a hand over his burning eyes. Tom asked too much of him. Frank couldn’t out himself to these people. Tom wouldn’t be here to help him or support him once everyone knew. He’d go back to New York like nothing happened.
“I can’t do this.” Frank’s harsh whisper scraped up from his chest, from the scratching of his wolf clawing to get out and run away.
“Frank—” Tom grabbed his arm.
The growl of his panicked wolf rose in his throat as a low, menacing sound. Tom yanked his arm away as if Frank’s skin burned him. Tom backed up a step. Like he was afraid of being bitten by a dangerous animal.
But Tom didn’t retreat any farther. Instead he looked wounded. Like their conversation during the improv game had hurt him as much as it hurt Frank.
Frank calmed his wolf enough to voice the lesser of the two fears warring within him. “I’m not an actor. I never have been.”
Campbell had remained within earshot and spoke up. “You’re not leaving the play, are you? Who will we get to play the beast?”
Frank didn’t look at his castmate. “Tom knows the lines. He’s much better than me.”
“I can’t replace you, and you know it.” Tom’s voice lowered, a dangerous, desperate edge in it.
“I need to go. I can’t do what you want. I need to go home right now.” Frank knew his wolf was rising in his eyes again. He could feel it scratching for purchase on his innards.
Tom exhaled. “Okay. Get some rest. We’ll push our plans forward and talk about this tomorrow.”
“It’s probably just stage fright,” Campbell said behind Tom as Frank skirted the crowd of actors and Annie. He pelted down the stairs.
Frank grabbed his backpack from the staff break room lockers and pushed open the front door. He circled around back to the little dumpster alcove out of view and stripped. Shouldering the pack, he belted it tight around his middle. He needed to keep the quivering in his stomach at bay before it shook him apart. With relief, he shifted.
Tom dropped into one of the folding chairs. “We’re done for today, everyone. Go home and work on your blocking.”
Thank God John stepped up to corral everyone.
“I’ll let you out the door. Next rehearsal is day after tomorrow, act two run-through.”
The thundering sound of the cast all descending the stairs receded. A floorboard squeaked and then another. A hand rested on Tom’s shoulder, and he looked up.
Annie held out a cookie. “I saved you one.”
“Thanks, Sis.” Tom took it from her and bit into it. Homemade chocolate chip. The taste brought back memories of their childhood when he and a teenage Annie would sneak downstairs on Saturday mornings. Their dad left her in charge on days he had to work. She’d swear Tom to secrecy and bake up a batch of cookies for breakfast. They’d feast on warm cookies and milk with their cereal.
Tom stared at the empty stage. Annie sat next to him in a folding chair. She’d always been his cheerleader, his caregiver, his best friend. And how did he repay her? By leaving.
“I missed you so damn much in New York.” Tom’s voice came out hoarse.
Beside him, Annie blinked and swiped at her eyes. “Well, it hasn’t been a bed of roses around here without you either.”
And Tom knew she was thinking back to last year when their dad had passed. Tom had come down for the funeral but had to leave as soon as the service was over. To audition for a tiny role. Which he’d gotten, but had amounted to ten minutes onstage, carrying a wooden bowl and standing until he walked offstage again. Tom had called every couple of weeks, but Annie had assured him she’d handled it all, the estate, the will. She and John had shouldered all of it.
“I should have stayed. After Dad died.” He broke off a piece of cookie but didn’t eat it.
“No, you shouldn’t have.” Annie swatted at his arm. “Do you know how proud Dad was of you going off to the big city to grab your dream? How proud I was?” She sniffed, but her watery smile made him happy.
Tom chuckled, and it came out a little wet. “Really?”
“Yes, really. We’ve always believed in you, Tommy.” Annie put an arm around him and pulled him in tight.
Tom took a shaky breath, holding on to his sister and wishing he could still hug his dad like this too.
“I’m counting on you to believe this play will be a success.” He finished the cookie and wiped his chocolate-stained hands together to brush the crumbs off them.
“Always. You’re a big-shot New York actor.” She shoved a shoulder into him to punctuate her statement.
Tom glanced sideways, the shame weighing in his heart. “That’s just it. I’m not.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not a big shot. I’m barely an actor.” He clasped his hands, and they hung between his knees. “I haven’t managed more than a walk-on role in the last three months.”
“It takes time to establish yourself sometimes.” Annie grasped one of his hands and laced their fingers. “You’ll get your break.”
He squeezed her fingers. “It doesn’t feel like New York’s where my big break will come from anymore. And I’m so afraid…” A catch in his throat prevented him from finishing his sentence.
Annie stayed silent, waiting for him to find his breath, and petted his hand with her free one.
Tom cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I’ll let you down.”
“Tommy.” Her surprised whisper made the lump in Tom’s throat hurt more. She cradled his hand in her own. “You can never let me down. Even if this play bombs, you are the one that dropped everything and came to help me. You’re doing something no one else in Waycroft Falls could do. And I’m more grateful than you can imagine, baby brother.”
“It’s been nice spending time back home.” Tom ran a hand through his hair. “I worry Marcie will grow up before I can come back for a visit.”
Annie laughed. “What? You will always be Marcie’s favorite uncle.”
Tom gave her a sidelong glance. “I’m her only uncle.”
“Not true.” Annie let go of his hand and got up to stretch. “Great Uncle Abner is still kicking.”
“Literally.” Tom felt the phantom pain of a whack he’d gotten on the shin the last time they’d visited their uncle in the nursing home. Uncle Abner didn’t let anyone get in the way of his soaps.
“Come on. We’ve dawdled enough. If we’re lucky, John’s almost home with takeout.”
Tom’s chair rattled as he stood up. As they exited down the stairs, Annie spoke over her shoulder. “And you can fill me in on what’s going on with you and Frank.”
Tom stumbled on the last step, catching himself on the railing.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he ran out of here like somebody set fire to him.” Annie crossed her arms and fixed him with a sisterly glare.
“Did we make a mistake?” Tom looked everywhere but at his sister, the words almost a whisper when they escaped. “Is this play going to hurt Frank?”
Annie paused, reaching out a hand to him. “I don’t think so. Frank isn’t alone in Waycroft Falls. He has a lot of people here that love him.” She poked his a
rm.
Tom stepped down from the stairs and leaned back against them. He took a deep breath. “I like Frank a lot.”
“I don’t see the problem here.” Annie’s voice remained kind.
“The problem is I’m leaving after the play to return to New York.” As soon as he said those words, they rent something in his chest. New York didn’t have what he wanted anymore. Even the play he planned to audition for was a touring company that would take him away from New York and his failures.
“But that’s still what you want, right?” When Tom didn’t answer her, Annie patted his arm. “You know, it’s okay if dreams change, Tommy. Don’t forget that.”
Annie sauntered to the back to grab her purse, leaving Tom frozen at the foot of the stairs.
Frank ran, through the woods that bordered the train tracks, past the residential housing development, and on to the newer part of town. The wrong direction from home, but he needed it. He needed to move, work out the shaking energy that roiled in his stomach and the chanting of run, run, run, that echoed through his head. The smell of oil and burned rubber from the freeway assaulted his nose, and he knew he was nearing the interstate that skirted the edge of Waycroft Falls.
Frank found the asphalt highway and ran alongside it, just inside the tree line, keeping pace with the cars that zoomed past. The exhaust tickled his nose, and the noise of engines filled his head. He got closer and closer to the ribbon of flat road, wanting the sound of the cars to drown out the thoughts of abandonment and make his heart beat so hard that he didn’t notice it hurt anymore.
With a bound, he was up and on the shoulder of the road itself, running full out, his paws pounding the asphalt, the straight hard surface giving his feet the perfect base to push faster, go harder. His tongue lolled, and his lungs heaved. A few cars must have seen him, because he heard a honk behind him. The danger of being so close to the wide, dangerous road called to him, coaxing him with freedom.
And then with his next step…pain.
Frank’s back foot registered a sharp blossom of agony. Had something bitten him? He yelped, but his momentum kept him running a few more paces on his injured paw. He lost his balance. He rolled off the side of the road and down a steep embankment.
Wolf Around the Corner Page 14