Under the Spotlight

by Bree Verity

Jane would not be happy that she had just lost another leading lady.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  With his back to the bar and a bottle in his hand, Marc leaned his elbows on the counter and looked over the people who still crowded the bar, even though it was eleven o’clock on a Thursday. They were quiet, for a pub crowd. If there had been a band, they had gone home a long time ago, and the music the owners had pouring out of the speakers was boisterous, but not too loud that you couldn’t have a conversation.

  When the excitement over Amber’s deception had quietened down, the rest of the rehearsal had gone without a hitch, even though Marc had been roped into reading the leading lady’s part. He was pleased to see the show was finally finding its rhythm. He always worried that it might not, but it always did. It was one of those unspoken laws at the theater - the production would be organized chaos until it came time for performances, then magically one day it would shape up and be perfect. Or at least almost perfect.

  Marc let his eyes fall. To his right, he could hear Jane, Pen and Chris talking. He felt a prickle of annoyance when he heard Penny laugh at something Chris had said, then he flushed. Even being gay didn’t save Chris from his jealousy.

  With a sigh, he tipped the bottle up and chugged the rest of his beer. He should have gone straight home.

  But some odd compulsion made him come. He had every intention of leaving straight after rehearsal, but he could almost feel someone yanking at his sleeve, pulling him toward the hotel. Actually, there had been a few strange things happen this evening. He had felt a breeze about him in a few places backstage that were not breezy. And a prop that he knew he had put down right in front of him had moved away all by itself.

  He didn’t even want to entertain the possibility it might have been the theater ghost. And if it was, what was he trying to do? Make Marc even more miserable than he already was?

  The last few days had been dreadful. His casual building work had stopped because it had been rainy and slippery at the worksite, so he had nothing to do except sit at home and think.

  Thinking was bad. He had realised with a sinking stomach that he had projected his own insecurities on to his relationship with Penny. Those insecurities had led him to find any tiny crack in their happiness that he could rip open, so he would have a way out. And when the way showed itself, he had grabbed it with both hands, tearing the relationship apart.

  Strange that in the days following, he didn’t feel good about his decision. He expected to congratulate himself on getting out of a situation that threatened to hurt him, instead, he felt like a deflated balloon, like the entire purpose of his existence had disappeared.

  At bump-in, when he had seen Penny so distraught, he nearly said something to her then. That he was sorry, that he wanted her back in his life. But, coward that he was, he hadn’t been able to form the right words, and she had passed by him with a scowl.

  A whisper had come to him - perhaps he had done the wrong thing? Perhaps Penny was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he had screwed up with his rigid rules.

  Once the whisper occurred to him, it became stronger, at first a reasonable voice in his head, and then as the idea planted itself, his entire brain was filled with the shout - he had screwed up.

  But what could he do? It wasn’t as if he could just saunter up to Penny and say, “Hey, sweet, maybe we can try that again?” She would laugh in his face. Or worse.

  He thought it would almost be worth it to hear her laugh again but hearing her laugh at Chris’ quips made him realise that no, it wasn’t her laugh he wanted. It was her attention, her love.

  Her love. He wanted her love.

  He wanted her to love him back.

  He felt the perspiration break out over his body. He loved her. And he had lost her.

  “You’re pretty quiet.”

  Marc’s head snapped up and he found Jane had come to sit beside him, carrying her usual glass of white wine.

  “I’ve made a mistake,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. Then he flushed. Jane didn’t need to hear about his stupidity.

  “I know.” Jane looked straight ahead, not even at him, and brought her glass to her lips.

  Marc frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I know. You screwed up. But you can still fix it.”

  Marc scoffed. “No I can’t.”

  “Marc, listen.” Jane looked him square in the face. “She is over there laughing at probably the stupidest man in the world. She doesn’t do that. Everything about her is brittle. Can’t you see it?”

  Come to think of it, he could. Penny’s laughter was strained, her body tense in the chair.

  “What should I do?” he asked.

  “Go over there, join in the conversation, then take her out into the car park.”

  Marc grimaced and shook his head. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea…”

  He was shocked into silence by Jane slapping him on the arm.

  “Just do it. You asked for my advice, I gave it. And I tell you what else.” Jane seemed to be gathering indignity. “I didn’t do it for you, Marc. I did it for Penny. She doesn’t deserve to have to go through what you’re putting her through. You guys have been flitting around each other for years. It’s been as obvious as the nose on your face that you’re good for each other. So if you think there is any chance of this working out, go over there now and work it out.”

  Jane’s eyes flashed at Marc, and he hastily left his seat, taking refuge in a chair beside Chris, who was still talking.

  He looked over at Penny. Although there was a smile on her face, he could see that her eyes were drooping. He had to act now, or the opportunity would pass.

  Still, he hesitated. Penny was absolutely the right person for him. But was he - insecure, foolish Marc - the best person for her. He gulped and happened to glance at Jane, who forcefully pointed a finger at Penny.

  Alright. Let’s do this.

  “Pen? You look like you’re about to fall asleep there. Can I walk you to your car?”

  Her eyes snapped open, and Chris stopped talking mid-sentence. Penny glanced over to Jane and then back to Marc.

  He waited for what seemed an eternity. What if she said no? What if she turned her back on him?

  “Sure.”

  It was the sweetest word he had ever heard. Abandoning his bar stool, he waited for Penny to walk ahead of him, out of the bar. He heard Chris whisper, “Good luck,” and turned to find Chris giving him a thumbs up. He could only manage a sickly smile in return.

  Penny let the cool, crisp air wash over her tired face. There was moisture in the air still, even though it wasn’t raining right now. She shivered and pulled her jacket a little tighter around her.

  She used every moment of the walk to her car to try to settle the whirling thoughts in her head. She knew Marc was going to try to apologize. She knew Jane had put him up to it. And she knew that she wanted Marc back.

  What she didn’t know was whether it was what he really wanted.

  Oh, she was certain he wanted to get back together with her. She was sure his body and maybe even his heart had told him that.

  But she needed all of him. Because she couldn’t go through the trauma of breaking up with him again, if in a few days his brain reasserted itself and he realized being with Penny wasn’t going to be a walk in the park.

  Reaching her car, she turned so her back was against the side of the Vitara. Droplets of water off the car soaked through her jacket. But that wasn’t the worst discomfort she was feeling.

  Marc stood far too close to her, and her foolish heart reacted, leaping in her chest as if it wanted to escape and embrace Marc all by itself. And her body, too, betrayed her, her mouth going dry and her palms sweating.

  It looked like Marc was going to come in for a hug. Alarmed, Penny put one hand out to stop him.

  “Wait.”

  His expression turned to confusion.

  “We need to talk.”


  She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to draw Marc into her arms, bring his body close, and feel the heat from him radiating into her. She wanted to breathe him in, to touch every part of him, to kiss him with every fiber of her being.

  She could see that talking wasn’t exactly what he wanted to do either, but the words had to be said before anything further could happen between them.

  “What do you want, Marc?”

  He frowned. “You.”

  “No, that’s not enough. You wanted me before, but you still walked away.”

  He licked his lips, running his hand across the side of his face and around the back of his neck in a familiar gesture. “I got spooked.”

  Penny raised one eyebrow but stayed silent, willing him to say more.

  He licked his lips. “I thought you were too much like Leanne.”

  “Oh no,” replied Penny. “This is not about me.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” he agreed quickly. “It was all me. I just panicked when I felt like this was turning into a real relationship.”

  “A real relationship?”

  “You know, going from just a bit of fun to something much more serious. I knew it was serious when I was so annoyed that you wouldn’t tell me what was going on in your life.”

  It was Penny’s turn to flush. “I should have told you,” she agreed. “And I was going to - only you pulled the pin.”

  “That was a mistake,” he said quickly. “And I regretted it the same day. I nearly said something at bump-in.”

  Penny pursed her lips. “Okay,” she said. “So where do we go from here?”

  Marc hesitated, then blurted out, “If you want this to be a real relationship, I’m cool with that.”

  “You’re cool with that?” This time, Penny couldn’t keep the scorn from her voice. “You mean you’ll play along?”

  “Pen.” Marc took both of her hands. She had the urge to yank them away, but instead she let them rest in his hands, not clasping his.

  Marc stared into her eyes, and she saw the flash of blue fire she had come to love. “I want this to be a real relationship. I want your body, sure, but I want your heart and your mind and your spirit to be here as well. I want to love you with everything that I have. I want to be the one you turn to when you’re sad or worried or in trouble. And I also want to be the one you turn to when you’re happy or horny or even when you think you’re seeing ghosts.”

  Penny smiled. Now, she grasped Marc’s hands. “Thank you for that,” she said. “Well, all except the ghost thing. It’s the truth.”

  “You know what?” Marc said. “I think I actually do believe you.”

  “Really?”

  “Edwin’s been bothering me all evening,” he confessed. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but if he’s been the one to bring us back together, I suppose he’s not so bad.”

  Penny nodded, her face becoming serious. “You know what this means though, right?” she said.

  “What?”

  She beamed. “It means you need to kiss me. Right now.”

  To her delight, Marc lunged for her with a growl, picking her up from under her bottom and crushing her against the Vitara, knocking the breath out of her, and crashing his lips down on hers in a rough, wet kiss that thrilled Penny to her core. She wrapped her legs around him, pushing her pelvis against him.

  “Back of the car?” he gasped.

  “And right now,” she breathed. “Before we explode.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Once again Marc spent the night at Penny’s, making up for the nights they had spent apart. Penny told him all about her panic attacks and the abortion, and how by learning to be a little more assertive, she had been able to clear the air with both her parents and her friends. And Marc spoke of his fears over facing a new relationship, after the train wreck he thought he had made of his last one.

  They made love several times over the night, sleeping in between bouts of conversation and sex, and in the morning, Penny expected to be groggy and in no state to take her run, let alone go to work.

  Instead, she woke up with her alarm, eager for the day to begin. She shook Marc, who groaned and said from a muffled place inside the covers. “What time is it?”

  “Six,” she said. “I’m going for a run. Did you want to come along?”

  “Seriously?” His tousled head appeared as he squinted at her. “It’s six o’clock on the morning. Who gets up now?”

  She grinned. “I guess that means no.”

  “It definitely does,” he said, “but if you want some other type of exercise, I could probably wake up for that.”

  Penny was sorely tempted, but she hadn’t been running for a few days, and she missed the early morning beauty. “You’ll just have to take care of that yourself,” she said cheekily.

  “I will,” he warned, before turning back over and, apparently, going back to sleep.

  Penny smiled at his back fondly before changing into her running gear and heading out the door.

  She was amazed at what her parents had managed for the naming ceremony for Elodie. Only a few people were invited - her parents, her brother and sister, Lydia and Desiree, and Jim and his wife. Marc had asked if she wanted him there, and she had thought for a moment before saying, “No, I don’t think so.” Before he could do more than pout, she had continued, “It’s not so much that I don’t want you there, it’s more that it’s a part of my life I’m letting go of, and you’re the part of my life I’m moving forward towards.”

  He had smiled and nodded, understanding her reasoning.

  The ceremony itself was held at the local Memorial Gardens. Her parents had organized a small stone which Penny would place beside the pond, engraved with the name “Elodie Davis”. They had organized lilies for each participant, and a nearby pavilion held food and drinks.

  One by one, her friends and family approached Penny, hugged her, then threw their lily in the water, saying Elodie’s name. Penny was overwhelmed at how the acknowledgement of the existence of her baby by the people most important in her life made her feel. Even though she would never hold Elodie, or watch her grow up, she was a real person who would not be forgotten. It gave Penny a measure of peace, somehow, just to know that.

  Afterwards, they all moved into the pavilion and toasted the little girl. Penny stood, wanting to say something, but hesitant as to where to start. She didn’t like getting up in front of people - putting herself forward like this was hard. But she felt she owed her child this send off, so she persevered.

  “I want to thank you all for coming today,” she started, looking at the smiling faces before her. “I needed today to prove to the world that Elodie was a real person, not just a throwaway item. I wish things had been different and we had all had the opportunity to know her,” and here, her voice caught a little, and she saw tears gather in her mother’s eye, as well as Lydia’s. “But life is strange and sometimes things happen. But you know what? I think, no matter where she is, Elodie knows that she is loved.” She lifted her champagne glass in a toast. “To Elodie.”

  “To Elodie.”

  Sunday was back with noses to the grindstone, with the start of the final week of rehearsals for the show. On Thursday, they would have an audience of the various front of house helpers who wouldn’t get the opportunity to see the show otherwise, since they would be concerned with front of house duties while the show was in progress. And then on Friday, they would have their first paying audience. So, Sunday, and then Monday, would be their last rehearsals.

  Jane had asked Cerise to come back, and Cerise had agreed. Chris’ dismay was fun to watch as Cerise bounced up to him, apparently having forgotten that he was the one who insisted she leave.

  “Hi Chris. I’m back!”

  “Oh, yay,” Chris deadpanned.

  “I think we might need to practice that kissing scene from the second act a few times.”

  Chris groaned, but Cerise dragged him away.

  Penny was impressed. Cerise hadn�
��t forgotten at all.

  Marc sidled up behind her and put his arms around her waist. “Are we all ready to go?”

  “You shouldn’t be asking,” she chided. “You should be saying “Madame Stage Manager, we are all ready to go!”

  “Okay,” replied Marc. “Madame Stage Manager…”

  “Yeah, I got it,” interrupted Penny, with a gurgle of laughter.

  Marc nibbled her neck, where her hair was pulled out of the way into a ponytail. “We have a few minutes before curtain,” he whispered suggestively. “There’s a nice dark corner behind the stage over there.”

  Penny turned in his arms. “Or we could wait until scene eight. It’s that really long one, remember?”

  “Oh, I remember.” Marc’s voice was almost a growl, and Penny, seeing the glint in his eyes, shivered expectantly. It would be a good rehearsal. Even if absolutely everything went wrong, it would be a good rehearsal.

  “Hey you guys,” said Jane, striding up to them. “Guess what?” In her hand she held a sheath of papers.

  “What?”

  “Fran got that letter authenticated - looks like it actually was written by our friendly poltergeist. Or at least someone who was around at the same time.”

  “Do you really think Edwin is still hanging around the theater?” Marc asked, and Penny jabbed him with an elbow, at the same time as Jane said, “Absolutely.”

  “I thought you believed now,” Penny said to Marc, and he grinned.

  “Well, I thought I did,” he said, “but it could all be explained by other things, so maybe I don’t.”

  Penny rolled her eyes and Jane grinned. “Some people just won’t believe until you bash them over the head with it,” she said, before rushing off again.

  Penny nodded, turning back to Marc. “Is that what I need to do? Bash you over the head?”

  He leaned down to kiss her. “I’d prefer you to do other nasty things to me,” he suggested with a wink, and she laughed.

  “Come and see me backstage during scene eight then, big boy.” He laughed, and let her go, and she smiled to herself watching his delectable arse as he walked away.