To Be or Not To Be: The Actors

by Cathrine Goldstein

  The bouquet stung Jenna’s hands, as if the roses had never been dethorned.

  Trevor eyed her quizzically as Luis and Loretta made their way over. Bebe followed.

  “Congratulations!” Jenna hugged Loretta and Luis.

  Trevor hugged Loretta and held out his hand to Luis. “Congratulations. It was beautiful. Really. I have no freaking idea why you got married on a rooftop in January, but…”

  “We met here.” Loretta smiled as she spoke, her beautiful white teeth gleaming. “I was the makeup artist on one of his first movies.”

  “Some low-budget piece of crap that barely covered rent for a month.” Luis shook his head, pulling Loretta in for a hug and releasing her. “Loretta was the best thing about it. And about everything else in my life.”

  Jenna smiled, blowing warm air into her mittens. “Uh, guys, want to hit the diner for breakfast? I’m sure the Carlton can fit our wedding party.”

  “Yes.” Loretta rubbed her hands together. “I’m freezing.”

  “Absolutely.” Luis held out his hand. “After you, Mrs. Statesman.”

  Giggling, Loretta sauntered past Luis. Jenna followed. Despite her smile, her teeth chattered from the freezing temperature.

  “Here.” Trevor came up behind her, slipping off his coat and draping it around her shoulders.

  The coat hung to her mid-thigh, and good lord it was warm and smelled so incredibly good. “Trevor, I can’t take your coat.” She shimmied around, trying to shrug out of his coat, but he pulled it back onto her.

  “Please. Consider it a peace offering for me being such an asshole yesterday.” He opened his mouth to speak again, but his cell rang. “I’m sorry.” Trevor excused himself and made his way to the opposite side of the rooftop. “Go ahead with Luis and Loretta, I’ll catch up.”

  “It’s cool man, we can wait.” Luis embraced Loretta’s face, kissing her over and over. Jenna smiled, turning away.

  Within a minute or two, Trevor stuffed his phone into his pocket and jogged back to meet the wedding party. He stood before Jenna. Pain clouded his gorgeous face.

  “Trevor, what is it?”

  “We have to go. Right now.”

  The ground rushed upward as she steadied herself. “It’s Don, isn’t it?” She knew it in her core. That hot unease that swirled through her gut was the same sensation she had when her dad had come into her bedroom that night he told her he was sick. “It is, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  Luis stepped up. “Trevor? What’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you this on your wedding day, but Don’s not doing well.”

  “What’s happening?” Jenna’s voice was a hoarse whisper.

  Trevor took Jenna’s hand, holding it protectively. He spoke to each of them. “He’s at Lenox Hill. They don’t know how much time he has.”

  “Christ.” Luis ran a hand through his hair.

  Trevor turned to Luis. “Come on. My car is downstairs.”

  Still holding Jenna’s hand tightly, the five of them rushed down the staircase and into Trevor’s waiting car.

  ****

  At the hospital, the bad news came quickly. The five of them huddled together in the hallway outside Don’s room as the doctor spoke.

  “I’m afraid he doesn’t have much longer.”

  Trevor shrugged off his chill, turning to the doctor. “What does he need? Whatever it is—do it. Spare no expense.”

  “We’re giving him medication for any discomfort he may have but you need to understand, Mr. Hughes, he’s over ninety years old with an advanced case of pneumonia…” The doctor sighed, looking over the small group of Don’s friends. “I’m really sorry to have to say this but you’ll all need to prepare yourselves for the worst. You should all say your goodbyes.”

  Trevor’s hands dangled at his sides. The scariest part of death is that it doesn’t give a damn whom you are and how much money you can throw at it. It’s an insatiable, wild dog, and once it picks its victim, hope is the first thing it devours. He shuddered.

  Jenna reached out and took Trevor’s hand and suddenly warmth replaced the horrible cold ache swirling throughout him. She squeezed his hand and nodded. With her cheeks still pink from the cold, she practically radiated warmth and strength and he knew she was with him in a way no one had ever been before. Through all the years of being strong for Amanda and Toby, he had always been completely alone. But right now, here, in the hallway next to Don’s hospital room waiting for the unthinkable, he felt surrounded by friends—real friends—maybe for the first time ever.

  “Well.” The doctor cleared his throat. “You can go in two at a time if you’d like.”

  Jenna let go of his hand and sadness enveloped Trevor once more.

  He stood up taller, fighting his way through his haze of pain. “Luis, Loretta, why don’t you go first? Maybe you can still salvage some of your wedding afternoon this way.”

  “Thanks, man. There won’t be any way to salvage today but I’d like to go home with Loretta and drop Bebe off at the airport.” Luis shook Trevor’s hand and escorted a teary Loretta into Don’s room.

  “I’m going to wait downstairs.” Bebe hugged Jenna and Trevor.

  “Bye, Bebe.” Jenna kissed her on the cheek.

  Trevor walked her to the elevator, pressing the button. “Would you like me to take you to the lobby?”

  She gave a pained smile, patting him on the hand. “I would love it, Trevor, but no, thank you.”

  Bebe stepped onto the elevator and the door closed. Trevor turned to Jenna, fighting an overpowering desire to run to her and hold her. She held out her hand to him, and he walked to her, taking her hand in his.

  “Should you call Maggie?” Her words were soft, and she stared at the door to Don’s room as she spoke.

  Trevor shook his head. The very last thing he wanted now was Maggie. “No. She’s not a student of Don’s. They don’t have a relationship.”

  “I uh, meant, for you. To have her here with you.” She glanced up at Trevor.

  “No.” He held her hand tighter. “I’d rather be here with you.”

  ****

  After saying goodbye to Luis and Loretta, Trevor and Jenna walked into Don’s hospital room, hand in hand. He lay there, his eyes closed, looking jaundiced and weak. He had a battery of tubes and machines hooked up to him, including a respirator.

  “It’s always the same thing,” Jenna mumbled.

  “What’s that?” Trevor turned to her.

  “It always comes to this. And you know what the strangest thing is?”

  “What?”

  “The smell. It always smells the same at the end. Like recycled air and warm cafeteria trays and medicine and astringent. It doesn’t matter that he breathed New York City air for his entire life. It doesn’t matter that once, while performing in Italy, his wife smelled the warm, salty air of the Mediterranean nestled in his beard; it doesn’t matter that his winter coat always reeked of mothballs—”

  Jenna choked on her words and turned to Trevor. She hesitated but he caught her in his arms, pulling her tightly to his chest. Her small body relaxed, and he wanted to keep her there, forever, forgetting everything bad that surrounded them. She dragged in a deep breath and pulled away.

  “I’m so selfish.”

  “How’s that?” Trevor looked into her eyes.

  “I went to him last night because I was mad at you.” Jenna’s words were choppy. “He was dying and I wanted him to coach me in acting and in life.”

  “I was there, too. That’s what he would have wanted, Jen. That’s all he ever wanted—to work, and to help other actors be their best.”

  She glanced at Don. “This is what my father looked like at the end,” Jenna confided. “Only he was much younger. Fifty-two. Cancer.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Jenna looked up at him. “I’m sorry, too. For…for the way I’ve been treating you.” She glanced at the floor. “I’m so sorry for what I said to you la
st night.”

  “We both said things we didn’t mean. I’m sorry, too. It was passion talking.”

  “All that…crap, it just seems so unimportant now, doesn’t it? Everything seems unimportant compared.”

  “Not everything.”

  She gave him a small smile and they both walked to Don, one on each side. They held his hands.

  Jenna stroked Don’s hand with her thumb as she spoke. “It’s like losing my father all over again.”

  “I know.”

  “You lost your father, too?”

  Trevor nodded, a lump forming in his throat. “When I was a teenager. September 11. He worked in the North Tower.”

  “Oh, Trevor.” Jenna covered her mouth with her hand.

  “He…” Trevor cleared his throat. “He never saw me become a success.”

  “I’m so, so sorry,” Jenna whispered. “That has to be one of the worst ways ever to lose someone you love. I can’t imagine I thought I had the monopoly on pain.”

  “All death hurts. Whether you’re prepared for it or not.”

  The doctor walked in, and Trevor and Jenna stepped away from Don’s bedside. “It’s time, you two. His vitals are bad. He’s not breathing on his own. He’ll be gone at any moment.” The doctor took a clipboard from the end of Don’s bed and wedged it under his arm. “I saw him perform when I was just a boy. He’s had a long run. Let’s let him rest now with his Evelyn.”

  Trevor nodded. “It’s amazing how many lives he’s affected, isn’t it?”

  The doctor sighed as a nurse entered, shutting down his IV drips.

  Jenna’s gaze followed the nurse. “Wait—I…shouldn’t we give him some more time?”

  Trevor stepped to her and took her hand again. “There is no more time, Jenna. I’m sorry.”

  She turned away as the nurse clicked off the ventilator. Jenna squeezed his hand so tightly, it ached. When the doctor and nurse left, Trevor said, “Want to say goodbye?” He pulled her gently to Don’s bed, and she lightened her grip.

  “Yes.” Jenna turned to Don. “Goodbye, Don. Thank you, for everything. We will miss you. I love you.” Jenna’s voice cracked but she fought back her tears. “And with that, ladies and gentlemen, we part. Until next time.”

  Trevor moved closer to Don. “ ‘Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince; and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.’ ”

  ****

  “I…I don’t want to be alone today.” Jenna moved slowly, whispering to Trevor as he escorted her out of the hospital room. She felt light-headed and entirely aimless.

  “Neither do I,” he whispered back.

  As they made their way out of the sliding front doors of the hospital and out onto Seventy-Seventh Street, Jenna stopped and turned to Trevor. It was still so cold, she shivered. He unzipped his coat, ready to wrap her up in it, once more. She held up her hand to stop him; she couldn’t let him freeze again.

  “No.” She sighed. “Come on. Let’s get in your car. It’s warm.”

  Trevor nodded and texted his driver to pull up the car. They stood side by side on the street, waiting. She was freezing but too numb to care. After a few minutes, the car pulled up alongside them, and they climbed in.

  “Where to?” Trevor asked, warming his hands against the heating vents.

  Jenna shrugged, completely lost. “I don’t want to see anyone. And I don’t want to go to my apartment. I still have dishes from the last meal I cooked for him.” Her voice cracked and Trevor took her hand, gently.

  “We’ll go to my place.”

  His voice was definitive and Jenna’s heart raced.

  “But Trevor we can’t…I can’t…”

  “Jenna. We both just lost someone we loved. Let’s just go grieve together.”

  Jenna nodded, feeling such a surge of thankfulness she leaned over and kissed Trevor on the cheek. He smiled as the car rolled forward.

  Chapter Ten

  As the car pulled up to a townhouse on the Lower West Side, Jenna’s shaking knees stopped trembling. She slid her sweaty palm from his hand and wiped it on her dress, pretending she needed to scratch an itchy knee.

  Trevor turned to her. “We’re here.”

  Jenna nodded, completely unsure as to why she was here. She was so lost at this moment; she certainly did not want to be alone but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be here, either. What she was sure of was she wanted to be with Trevor. And that was a real problem.

  The driver opened the door, and Trevor exited first. He held out his hand for Jenna and she placed her hand in his as he helped her from the car. She stood on the sidewalk staring up at a modest brick apartment building, with a designer clothing store at ground level, and seven more stories of apartments above. It had a definite retro industrial feel, and the apartments were connected by ladders and fire escapes.

  “You live here?”

  “Yes.” Trevor gave her a tiny smile. “You like it?”

  “Yes.” Despite her melancholy, Jenna’s heart raced from excitement. She loved this neighborhood with its dive bars, small bistros, and trendy galleries, and she loved that he lived here and not in some uber-fancy high-rise somewhere.

  “It’s freezing out here. Let’s go in.”

  Jenna nodded, shivering, still unsure of what to do, but yet deep inside, a strange contentment brewed. Trevor walked to a well-worn green door next to the entrance to the boutique and unlocked three separate locks. Holding the door open with his foot he nodded to her. “Come on.”

  Jenna stepped inside to a beautifully finished hallway of dark cherry wood floors and white walls. They walked the hallway to an elevator bank. The door of an industrial elevator was opened, waiting for them.

  “Is this a converted warehouse?”

  “Yes.” He smiled as they stepped onto the elevator. Trevor dropped the gate and pressed a button marked “PH.”

  Steadying herself, Jenna grasped the metal grate on the side of the elevator cage as they took a shaky ride to the penthouse.

  “It’s safe.” Trevor smiled. “I promise. They’re just trying to maintain somewhat of an authentic feel.”

  The elevator came to a rough halt and Trevor opened the gate. They stepped out into a small red-brick lined hallway and Trevor inserted a key into a large, black metal door, unlocking it and sliding it open like a barn door.

  “Cool door.” Jenna stepped inside to the small foyer of her dream apartment. “Oh my goodness.” She spun around taking in the brick walls, dark hardwood floors, exposed steel columns, and industrial piping. “This is incredible.”

  To her left was a living area with a low black leather couch and two matching chairs, and to the right, a long, hand-carved wooden table, with two long benches on either side, and chrome chairs flanking the ends. It had an espresso cup and opened paper left on top. Large, silver, pendulum lamps hung down over the table. Trevor moved to the side and dropped his keys into a leather bowl on a long dark wood table in the entrance area. In the far back corner, a staircase of wire and suspended wood led to a loft. The loft hung out into the room and was partitioned by picture windows. Tall green plants lined the window, blocking their view into the bedroom. Past the staircase was a wall of waist-to-ceiling high windows, overlooking the avenue.

  “Make yourself at home.”

  Jenna walked into the middle of the apartment, catching a glimpse of the white-and-chrome kitchen with silver high-end appliances, but she didn’t stop. Instead, she went straight for the windows. She stood before the glass and stared out at Manhattan below her. “The view…” she muttered. “It’s…” She shook her head. “We’re not that high, yet I can see down Broadway, and so many buildings…I…I don’t feel like I’m looking at it. I feel like I’m part of it. I can’t even imagine what this must be like at night.”

  Suddenly Trevor was at her side. “Stay.”

  Jenna didn’t dare turn to him. His breath was warm on her neck, and her heart raced in response.

  Gently, he pushed her hair ba
ck behind her ear, and whispered once more. “Stay and find out. Just for a while. Just until we…get through today.”

  He choked on his words. His bright blue eyes were glassy and his face looked drawn. He appeared as sad and lost as she was feeling. Her heart ached to see him like this. She reached out and stroked his cheek, gently. He placed his hand on hers, closing his eyes. Every fiber of her being wanted to melt into him, against him, just to make his hurting stop. “Do you…should I call Maggie?” There was no subtext in her words. She truly didn’t want him to be hurting, and if Maggie could help, then she was the answer.

  “What?” His body stiffened in response. “No, no.” He stepped back, clearing his throat. “Can I, uh, get you something? Coffee?”

  “Coffee would be great, thanks.”

  “Kitchen’s over here. Make yourself comfortable.” Trevor walked into the kitchen as he spoke. He stood behind a large breakfast bar, dropping beans into a coffee grinder.

  Jenna followed him into the kitchen, walking past a display wall with at least twenty awards and trophies balanced on three shelves made of reclaimed wood and industrial pipes, suspended from the wall. Jenna pointed to them and Trevor shrugged. She walked closer to inspect them. “Daytime Emmy, Daytime Emmy, People’s Choice…” She rattled off award after award. “Huh, Kids’ Choice.” She smiled and made her way into the kitchen. She plopped down on a high leather stool, still eyeing the view of Manhattan.

  “That view’s something, huh?” He smiled as he waited for the coffee to brew.

  “I’ll say.” Jenna clasped her hands together, leaning against the counter. “The whole place is amazing. Looks just like my place.” She grinned, trying anything to keep the mood light and as pain free as possible.

  “Glad you like it.” He placed a mug of coffee in front of her. “Extra cream, six sugars.”

  “Thanks.” She blew on the coffee, taking a sip. “Good grief. This is fabulous.”

  “Good.” He took a swallow of his coffee and placed his mug on the counter. “C’mere. I want to show you something.”