I exhaled a long breath. “Yeah, and half of mine is already gone. I don’t want to mess up the next half, but I also hate to think that I wasted the first half.”
Raylene rested her cool hand against my cheek. “Just take it day by day. You’ll know what to do. Start by getting dressed so we can go eat.”
I lifted the clothes in my hands. “Thanks! I’ll be right down.”
I walked down a flight of steps to my room, hoping that Raylene was being honest with me, since the last thing I wanted was to hurt her. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t happy that I was home, maybe the reason I hadn’t seen her for more than a few minutes at a time since I’d arrived.
10
Scandal or Hype
Stuffed from the three helpings of chicken and dumplings I’d eaten, I pulled a pillow on my lap. I was glad Raylene had given me a sweatshirt to wear, since I felt as if my belly might explode.
It appeared that gaining twenty pounds wasn’t going to be a difficult task at home, especially since I wasn’t burning any calories by working.
Markus flipped through the stations while I searched the menu on the Netflix app on my phone. Every time I mentioned a thriller, he’d say “too scary for Buddy.” Then he’d suggest a romantic comedy.
“Wait!” I screeched as he surfed by a station. I was positive I’d heard the announcer mention the film I’d auditioned for.
“What?” Markus asked.
“Go back a notch … local station. News reporter, I think.”
Markus flicked back a channel, then another, pausing and waiting for my reaction.
Raylene walked in and sat on the recliner where Zayde had always sat. She’d changed into an extra-large sweatshirt and sweatpants; the worn gray fabric literally hung off her.
Mom set down a large stainless bowl filled to the brim with popcorn. “What did you decide to watch —?”
“There!” I shouted. “Stop!” The top right corner of the screen indicated a live feed.
The cameraman focused on a man standing next to red velvet-covered ropes outside one of the swanky restaurants inside one of the equally posh hotels in downtown Pittsburgh, then panned the camera toward a pearl-white Audi convertible, one of those tri-colored paint jobs that raised the price of even expensive cars another thousand dollars. Dressed in a black tux, Howard Edwards walked around the front of the car just as a valet started to open the passenger door for someone.
Hundreds of flashes ensued. “Oh …” Jana Embers stepped out of the car but then stumbled from the onslaught of flashing bright lights.
Howard steadied her by wrapping his arm around her, then turned her away from the paparazzi.
“Uh, Mr. Edwards,” the reporter who’d been waiting for their arrival called after them, “my sources tell me that Jana will be playing the starring role in You Don’t Need a Man. Is that true?”
Howard peeked down at Jana Embers.
The camera caught her profile as she looked up at him, her mouth turning down as though she were confused.
Howard said something the camera didn’t pick up, and Jana shrugged.
Then, Howard turned to the reporter, his arm still wrapped around Jana, and flashed his multi-million-dollar smile, the one that had earned him a spot on Hollywood’s most-eligible-bachelor list nearly every year. “As capable as Ms. Embers is to be cast in the movie, that rumor is not true.”
A female reporter stepped into the camera shot and motioned her hand toward Howard’s arm around Jana’s waist. “Any chance of other leading roles?”
Howard pulled Jana closer, then turned her toward him, immediately locking his lips with hers.
“Oh …” Mom and I cooed at the same time, and I was pretty sure my heart cranked up a notch as if Howard had kissed me instead of Jana. I’d been right that Howard’s head wasn’t in the game. His sights had been on the author.
Raylene released a soft, dare I say, disbelieving chuckle. I couldn’t put my finger on why her laugh didn’t sound right. I stared at my sister, waiting for her to make eye contact with me and explain, but she covered her mouth with her hand as though she were as shocked as Mom and I were.
“What’s the big deal?” Markus asked. “Why do women get all googly-eyed over him? He grew up in the same town as all of us.”
“He did?” I asked, turning toward Markus.
“Yeah. He grew up in Squirrel Hill, went to the same high school as you and I did. Well, not the same year.” Markus looked at Raylene. “He would have been within a few years of your class, though, Ray. Did you know him?”
Raylene shrugged. “He’s a few years older than I am.”
I stared back and forth at both of them. “You guys know Howard Edwards the Second and you didn’t think to tell me when I was auditioning for his movie. Having an ‘in’ — no matter how small — helps.”
Markus raised his hands. “I don’t know him. I know of him. My father knew his father back in the day.” Markus paused. “You know, come to think of it, maybe my father does know Howard too. I seem to remember a couple years back that some huge Hollywood producer was looking for a great deal in Mount Washington. I just never put the two together.”
I shoved him on the shoulder. “Markus! I can’t believe … Ugh!”
Irritated, I turned my head back to the TV when Howard started speaking again.
“I can tell you one thing,” Howard said, “if Jana were my woman, I’d never have her wondering if she needed a man.” He turned away, his arm still latched around Jana’s waist, and headed for the front doors of the hotel.
I laughed at his statement as I realized the scene had probably been a publicity stunt, since his words nearly matched the title of the movie. Even Jana auditioning for the role in her own movie had probably been set up to cause people like the gossiping actors who’d been outside the theater to spread the info to the media.
A pang of dejection hit me as I realized that, based on the cordoned-off area and the reporters waiting, it wasn’t a coincidence they’d run into Howard and Jana. No, Howard had been escorting Jana to a party, a casting party, announcing the leads.
Oh, well … that was it then. My career as an actress was finally over. Of course, I’d already known that, the reason I’d had my mental breakdown after the CD had dismissed me. Sure, I could continue to accept small roles and commercials. I’d made a decent living for the last twenty years. But I didn’t want that. I needed to settle down. And I couldn’t settle down if I was always running from one audition to the next. And Raylene had said that Mom needed me, that she needed me.
I glanced up to ask Raylene about her reaction to seeing Howard, since based on her comment about him being a few years older than her told me she did, in fact, know that Howard went to the same high school. But she was gone.
“Where did Ray go?” I asked my mother.
“Ray gets up early in the morning, so she normally goes to bed early.”
“Oh …” I said, then snatched the remote out of Markus’s hands. “Give me that. You’ll surf all night.”
Markus leaned back into the corner of the sofa and pulled me against him. “Pick whatever you want.”
My insides warmed immediately. This felt right. Markus felt right.
Tomorrow I’d figure out how to apply for my teacher’s certification. After all, what was left for me in New York now that Joe had left, and I’d decided to retire from auditioning?
11
Proposals
Monday morning. A new week, a new beginning. Over the weekend, since Markus was working on a deadline, he’d said, and Mom and Raylene had been out of sight, I’d re-familiarized myself with Squirrel Hill, so I’d be able to map out places to apply for a job.
But before I left the house, I needed to figure out how to get my teacher’s certification. As much as I’d like to have some immediate money coming in, I didn’t want to spend the next twenty years of my life waiting tables. I needed a career.
Coffee in hand, I ope
ned my laptop, but then peered around the house, surprised at how quiet it was. Raylene wasn’t downstairs when I’d made it to the kitchen, so I assumed she’d already left for work. Mom had just finished washing out her mug and was heading to the store.
The only sound that filtered into the house from outside was birdsong, and I was pretty sure that was because my mother had several feeders and birdhouses in the yard.
Only a short jaunt from the city, and yet, my mother owned a little slice of paradise. No wonder she didn’t want to leave. I just hoped that I’d be able to find a job soon so I could help her keep this place.
As soon as I logged on, my phone lit up with a text from Joe. He had texted me several times over the weekend, asking when I’d be back, but I’d held off on an answer, wanting to make sure before I jumped. After all, I did still have a place, for at least a month, in New York.
Besides, what was there to talk about anyway? He was moving to Chicago, and someone was moving into his apartment.
Even though I didn’t want to respond, I swiped open Joe’s message so I could read it. Alaina, I don’t understand why you won’t answer me. Did you even read my letter?
Not wanting to do this, I sighed, but it had to be done. Are you at home? I typed.
Yes, I took my vacation over Thanksgiving week so we could talk. Plan.
“Plan? Plan what?” I asked the birds, since they were the only living entities near me, and I didn’t want anyone to catch me talking to myself. Talking to myself in New York might not raise heads, but I was sure the people in Pittsburgh might look at me as if I were crazy. I shook the phone as I stared down at his image above the text screen. “You left me. Now you want to plan? Plan what? How to divide the food and toilet paper?” Great! Now I was talking to a phone. I wasn’t sure if that was worse than talking to myself or the birds.
It’s not as though I had much of anything in his apartment. Maybe that was it. Maybe he needed me to get the rest of my clothes out of the closet.
I hit “call,” and waited to see if he’d pick up.
“Thank you!” Joe sounded rushed or frantic, I wasn’t sure which, but nothing frazzled Joe, so he must just be in a hurry. “I didn’t want to talk with you when you were with your mother, so I was hoping you would call.”
“Can’t you just put all my stuff in the office, Joe?”
The line was quiet for a second, then a rustling sound came through the line. “What do you mean, Alaina? Aren’t you coming home after Thanksgiving? I just assumed you went to see your mom and sister for the holiday. Don’t you have to be back for the play?”
A huff escaped my throat. “Home? What do you mean home? You left.”
“You didn’t read my note, did you?” He released a long sigh. “I knew it. I didn’t want to believe it, but I knew it.”
“Knew what?” I got up from behind my computer and walked to the back porch. “You left, Joe. You didn’t even tell me you were considering a job in another state. And I come home to see you leaving. What was I supposed to do?”
“Alaina,” Joe said calmly, “do you have the letter?”
I sighed then walked to the table for my bag. I rifled through my oversized satchel that would make Mary Poppins jealous. My bag was large enough that I could have gone years without stumbling over the letter. I practically lived out of my purse, so it was nearly the size of a backpack. “Yes,” I finally said when I pulled out the legal-sized envelope with my name written on the outside.
“Would you do me a favor and please call me after you read it?”
My hands broke out in a sweat at his words. Was there something wrong with him, something he couldn’t confess in person? “Sure. I guess. What’s wrong?”
“Call me right back, okay?”
“Okay, Joe.”
The line went silent, and I just stared at the envelope. A few seconds later, I went to sit on my mother’s overstuffed chair in the sunroom, the old wingback chair she called her “reading chair.” We all knew that when she was in it, she wasn’t to be disturbed. Funny how I’d chosen to walk in here and choose her chair, as though I knew the letter would upset me.
I stared down at the innocuous piece of paper as if it might explode. Joe had always been serious, but he’d sounded desperate. And Joe was never anxious about anything. Carefully, I pulled the tab up from its tucked-in position on the back of the envelope, then removed the one page that Joe must have typed out and printed. He’d always complained about his handwriting, even though it was neater than mine by a long shot.
Dear Alaina,
I know I’ve been withdrawn the last three months, but that’s because I’ve been waiting to hear news about an amazing opportunity in Chicago. While the position is exactly what I’ve worked toward for the last ten years, the situation is bittersweet because I know you won’t go with me.
I love you, Alaina, but I know your heart and your life belong to the stage. It saddens me because I truly believe that we could be happy forever if you felt the same way about me as I do you.
I’ll only be gone for a few days, so I’m asking you to take this time to reflect on our relationship. I know this is the most un-romantic way to do this, and I’m sorry about that, but if I thought there was any chance you would have said yes, I would have spent any amount of money to pull off a huge production and bought you the grandest diamond imaginable, but I didn’t want to put you on the spot. So, I’m asking you here, in this stupid letter. If you love me and want me to stay in New York, just say the word, and I will.
Will you marry me?
Yours,
Joe
My heart pounded against my ribcage as I stared down at the page, shocked. No, flabbergasted. I wasn’t sure if there was a big enough word to describe what I felt.
I dropped my head into my hands. Marry Joe? Stay in New York? I picked up the phone to hit re-dial, but inadvertently hit ACCEPT on an incoming call instead, as the phone rang in my hands.
Not recognizing the number I’d just hit ACCEPT on, I stared down at my phone and considered hanging up.
“Hello? Alaina Ackerman?” called a tart female voice from the speaker.
I lifted the phone to my ear. “Sorry. Yes, this is Alaina Ackerman.”
“Alaina, this is Michelle with HELL Productions. We need you to come back to Greensburg. Are you free today?”
Was this woman kidding? Truly, Fate had a sick sense of humor, or she just liked to watch me flop around like a fish out of water. “Ummm … I’m confused.” Every other situation of a callback, I had always answered: Yes. Of course. What time? But I was done. The phone clicked with an incoming call. I peeked at the phone to see Joe’s name. I wrestled with asking the woman to hold while I accepted his call, but curiosity got the best of me. I could call Joe back in a few minutes. “I thought all the parts had been filled.”
“Well, yes. They were.” A clicking sound filtered through the phone as though she were tapping her desk with a pen. The blonde in the thousand-dollar pantsuit, I realized. “Until this morning, that is. The lead role has just opened up. The woman we chose failed her background check, and Howard is a stickler about having any marks on your portfolio. Tell me, Ms. Ackerman, have you ever been filmed in the nude or been arrested?”
“Of course not!” I exclaimed, offended.
“Not even by an ex-boyfriend? It’s amazing how dicey images suddenly show up the moment a nobody is offered a lead role.”
I couldn’t believe I was listening to this, especially since I wasn’t accepting a role anyway. But I still wanted to prove to this woman that they’d chosen the wrong woman. “No. Never.”
“Good. When can you come to Greensburg?”
I spurted out a laugh. This woman was a piece of work. No wonder she could afford a thousand-dollar pantsuit. “With all due respect, Michelle, I’ve been to Greensburg three times. The CD said he had my audition taped and didn’t need to see me audition again —”
“Understood, Alaina,” she cut me off, “
but you won’t be auditioning for the CD; you will be personally auditioning for Howard Edwards the Second.”
My eyes instantly watered up, which told me two things. One, I had to go, and two, Joe was right. I loved Joe, but Joe asking me to marry him hadn’t brought tears to my eyes. Then again, if he’d said the same words to me in person — or before I’d left New York — maybe they would have. Or even on the phone. But no, he’d not wanted to waste money on anything extravagant if I might have said no.
Markus’s face — along with Buddy’s sad puppy eyes — popped into my head, though. I couldn’t shake the image of how utterly honest Markus had looked when he’d said he’d give me forever if I stayed in Pittsburgh. Would my landing a lead role in a major motion picture make him happy or sad? Other actresses managed a personal life and a career, though. Why did it feel like I had to make a choice between one or the other?
“What time would you like me there?”
12
That Old Harpy Fate
Before I moved from my chair, I sent Joe a text. I can’t talk right now. I really have to think about your letter. I’ll call you back later.
It wasn’t that I wanted to lead Joe on. I did love him, and I did have to think about his … proposal, although it certainly didn’t feel like a proposal. The fact of the matter is … I had loved my life in New York, but did that mean I loved Joe? My feelings were confusing, to say the least. I knew without a doubt that I cared about Joe, but was that enough? Joe’s kiss and touch didn’t make my toes curl like when Markus touched me. If that was all I had with Markus, I knew for certain it wouldn’t be enough, but we had more. We had history, and we were still good friends.
My head was too cluttered to think about Joe and Markus right now. I had one last audition to make, and since I’d called AAA and had them install a new battery in the Taurus, I didn’t have to call my mother or Markus for a ride. Nor did I have to tell either of them that I was heading to Greensburg for a fourth time.
[What's Luck Got To Do With It 02.0] Down on Her Luck Page 10