Chapter Ten
For Ashley, days and nights melded together, fused by the common denominators of constant work, magic moments stolen with Zachary and the growing excitement of the upcoming move of the show to Broadway. The Boston run was coming to a close. The show had played to packed houses full of enthusiastic audiences. They had a hit, and the word was out in New York. Although their Broadway opening night was still two weeks hence, seats had sold out for the first couple of months and were still selling at an astonishing rate.
Each Boston performance was followed by adjustments: in pace, lyrics, music, stage movement, lighting, costumes . . . the list went on and on. It was honing time, sharpening the musical to a biting edge of excellence. Ashley swung between radiant happiness, caused by the state of euphoria that she and Zach lived in, and steadily growing dread of being evicted from that state when she left Boston.
The day for departure inevitably arrived. The entire company was caught up in the madness of the move. The set had to be struck and prepared for transport, costumes sent ahead for any necessary repairs and cleaning, lighting boards and all the special Fresnels, spots and strips carefully packed . . . and always more to do. Tempers were short, due to both the frantic confusion and the usual sadness that reigned when a troupe left the scene of a triumph. An out-of-town hit, though the best of omens, did not guarantee a hit on Broadway.
Ashley stood in the middle of her baggage in the hotel room, her mind messily rummaging about, attempting to arrange itself in orderly process. She was so preoccupied with the prospect of moving away from this magic city, home to her lover, that details of packing, sorting and readying herself for departure seemed monumental chores. When the knock on the door came, it had an aftershock, like the knelling of a bell of doom.
She opened the door and tried for a smile. “Hi, honey.”
Zachary’s expression mirrored hers: forced cheerfulness layered over grim acceptance. “Looks like you’re all packed.”
“Yes, I think I have everything.”
“Want to check through once more before we go?”
“No. If I’ve left something they’ll send it.” She grimaced. The one thing of true value she was leaving couldn’t be packed up and sent. Her eyes kept swinging back to Zachary, wanting to engrave every aspect of him on her mind’s eye, to be called up and viewed in the lonely days ahead.
“I guess we’d better go. The traffic will be fierce in the Callahan Tunnel at this time of day.”
Ashley had already called a bellhop, and he appeared at the door. Time to go. Her heart was steadily sinking. By the time they reached the airport, it would be beating in her feet.
They drove in comparative silence, broken only by monosyllabic comments of no import. They had said their goodbyes the night before, passionately, sadly, sweetly, hopefully. Their capacity for farewells had been wrung dry. When Zach pulled up in front of the Eastern terminal, he pushed the gear to neutral and pulled on the hand brake. “I’ll open the trunk and check your luggage.”
Ashley was fighting a losing battle with tears. “Are you coming in to wait with me?”
He looked at her, his dark eyes clouded with sadness. “No. I said goodbye to everyone yesterday, and I don’t want to stand in the middle of the group and try to make small talk.”
She nodded. “I understand.” She couldn’t quite make herself open the door, and Zach was obviously having the same problem. She felt her control give way, felt the tears start to roll down her cheeks.
He took out his handkerchief and wiped the tears from her face, then handed it to her. “We’re not parting permanently, darling.” He ran his fingers across her cheek. “It just feels like it.”
She leaned into his embrace. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. That won’t change when you get on the airplane.”
“Promise me you won’t marry Joan while I’m gone.”
He pulled back, looking at her in amazement. “Who?”
“Joan. The blond girl at your parent’s party.”
A spark of humor lit his eyes. “Dear God, where did that come from?”
She shrugged, trying to make light of a subject she’d worried about ever since that party. What in heaven’s name had made her say it? She tried to lighten her voice, to turn it into a joke, as it should be. “She was hanging all over you. And Emily says she’s been in love with you for years.” You darn fool, she told herself. There’s nothing that catches a man’s interest like knowing a woman admires him.
At that, Zachary laughed, kissed her and reached for the door handle. “Emily has an outrageous imagination.” He grinned at her. “And it seems yours isn’t far behind. Joan’s an old friend. I’ve known her as long as I can remember; we share a lot of memories. But friendship and love are two different things.”
Ashley shakily returned his smile. All very well for him to say. But love did sometimes grow out of friendship. And the thought of Zachary and Joan Hudson sharing a lot of memories did nothing for her peace of mind. The luggage got checked, and she took her small carry-on bag from Zach. There was nothing left to do but turn around and walk through the door. Why did it feel like she was preparing to walk the plank? “I guess it’s time.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll call you. And you call me.”
“Of course.”
“I hate this. I don’t want to go.”
“You could stay.” But his eyes acknowledged the impossibility of her doing so.
“I wish I could.” She stepped forward and lifted her face to his light kiss. “Goodbye, Zachary.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Oh, yes.” Her throat closed, allowing no more words to pass, so she forced her feet to turn and walk through that damned sliding door. She looked back only once. Zachary had already gotten into his car. She watched it pull away from the curb, then headed in the direction of the New York shuttle.
It was a week later that Zach, busily at work at his desk, answered his secretary’s buzz to be told, “A Mr. Robbins on the line; are you in?”
“Yes. Definitely.” Matt? God, was something wrong with Ashley?
“Hi there, Zachary. I like your secretary’s voice. Is she as cute as she sounds?”
“In a word, no. How are you, Matthew? Is everything all right?”
“Sure. Smashing. One more week to go for the big night. You’re coming, I trust.”
“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it. So, is this just a social call, or do you have need of a lawyer?”
“Not at the moment, but one never knows. Listen, Zach, I’ve got sort of a weird and wild favor to ask.”
“Ask away.” Zach liked Matt more and more as he grew to know him. He strongly suspected that beneath that flip exterior was a very sincere and sensitive man.
“Well, as soon as we get through opening night and have been either praised or pasted by the press, it’ll be only a couple of weeks before I could sneak away for a nice long holiday.”
Zachary frowned, unable to make a connection between Matt’s vacation and this call. “That sounds great. But so far it sounds like you should be talking to a travel agent.”
“All in good time. You see, I want to take Amy with me.”
“I don’t blame you. Amy is about as nice a companion as could be found. She’s also of legal age. So far I see no need for legal services.”
“I don’t need a lawyer. I need a friend.”
Zachary sat back, surprised by the sudden tone of soberness and touched by Matt’s turning to him for friendship. “I would be honored to fill that role, Matt. What can I do for you?”
“Be my best man.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Amy and I are getting married. I don’t want to take my girlfriend with me, I want to take my wife.”
Zachary pushed at his chair, tilting it onto the back legs. “
That’s terrific, Matt. When and where is this auspicious event to be held?”
“In Las Vegas.”
“Las Vegas!”
“Yeah. It’s the fastest. And it seems like an appropriate place for a guy like me to get married. I mean, talk about a gamble!”
Zach chuckled, then stopped, frowning in thought. Something very bothersome had just occurred to him. “Matt, I hope I won’t offend you . . .”
“Uh-oh.”
“I just . . . well, to tell the truth, I’m a pretty hidebound cuss in some ways. When the minister says something about not taking the marriage vows lightly, that’s the sort of thing I take very seriously.”
“Okay, Zach, whatever’s on your mind, just spit it out. One of the things I admire about you is your honesty. So I promise not to get mad if you want to turn me down.”
“It’s not that I wouldn’t be pleased to be your best man, Matt, really. It’s just, well, if you’re going into this marriage with a cavalier attitude, you know, maybe it’ll work and maybe it won’t, but why sweat it . . . I couldn’t, in all conscience, be part of the ceremony. For one thing, I think Amy deserves far better than that.”
There was an extended silence at the other end of the phone. Zachary squirmed in his chair, feeling like a stiff-necked party pooper. Sometimes he got caught up in his own rigid ethics when more flexibility was called for. He didn’t want to hurt Matt’s feelings. He wished he could call back the words, but it was too late for that.
When Matt answered, his voice held a sincerity and conviction Zachary could swear he’d never heard before. “Zach, I appreciate your saying that. I really do. Believe me, I want this one to last. I’m not as carefree and thoughtless as I sometimes appear. I married twice in a row when I was a young hotrod on the prowl. Neither of them had a chance; I married girls who were gorgeous and party-loving and empty-headed. That’s why I’ve stayed single for ten years, to give myself time to grow up. Amy’s special, as you say. I don’t want to be alone anymore, and I sure as hell don’t want to grow old by myself. Amy keeps me in touch with important things. She keeps me in touch with myself. I love her, Zach, and I want this to be till death do us part.” He gave an embarrassed laugh. “Listen to me, waxing poetic.”
Zach had to swallow hard to dislodge the lump in his throat. “Thank you for sharing that with me. Matt. And I’d be extremely honored to be your best man. When are you planning to go?”
“I think this weekend might be our last chance to get away for a couple of days.”
“Had you thought of waiting until later, when you have more time?”
“Yeah, we thought of it. But, I don’t know . . . we’re ready now. Does that make any sense?”
“Lots of sense.” Zach sighed. He was ready, too. But his story, thus far, didn’t promise such a happy ending. “Is Ashley going?”
“Sure. Naturally. She couldn’t be my best man, so she’ll be Amy’s maid of honor. Hey, maybe you two should quit horsing around and make it a double. I understand they give a special rate.”
“Don’t I wish we could. I’m afraid Ashley and I have a few things to settle first.”
“Yeah. I suppose. But you belong together. It doesn’t take twenty-twenty vision to see that.”
They settled on times for departure and return, and discussed other details before hanging up. After Zach had replaced the receiver, he sat very still for awhile, gazing thoughtfully out the window. Damn. It wasn’t going to be easy, watching someone else get married while he and Ashley stood by in their unaltered singleness.
Amy and Matt stood before the justice of the peace in the small, tasteless chapel. The four of them had looked it over before the ceremony and pronounced it a fine example of early tacky. They were all in a holiday mood, ready to laugh at the slightest excuse. It seemed a good ambience for a wedding.
Zachary’s eyes kept meeting Ashley’s as the vows were spoken and the rings exchanged. A silent question hovered between them: “Why can’t we just do this, and try to work it out from there?” There were times, he thought, when too great a dedication to personal responsibility seemed an onerous burden.
As soon as the ceremony ended, Zach and Ashley stepped forward to kiss the bride and groom. Zach held Amy’s shoulders, looking down at her with genuine affection. “Well, you did it, kid. I’m not sure whether to congratulate you or offer to have it instantly annulled.”
“No way. It took me a long time to get this guy to the altar. Now he’s stuck with me. And I mean stuck.”
Zach gave her a hug and a kiss. “Good luck, Amy. You deserve the very best.”
“That’s what I got.”
He smiled. “Yeah. You did at that.”
When he turned to Matt, they stood, grinning foolishly at one another until, at the same moment, they moved forward to give each other a bear hug, complete with back-slapping. Ashley watched with tears in her eyes at the display of affection between her best friend and the man she loved. She and Zach had come a long way since the first round of their love affair. If only they could find a road smooth enough to make the rest of the journey!
They’d flown to Las Vegas on Friday evening, and they flew back to New York on Sunday. During that brief time, as well as having the wedding, they’d dined and danced and played the slot machines and sat in the intense heat out by the pool — and laughed and laughed and laughed. All four of them were geared to having fun, set in a sort of lull-before-the-storm mentality. Ashley and Zachary clung to each other, sitting close, holding hands, walking with arms entwined. They both felt somehow threatened by the newlyweds, as though they were witnessing an improbable dream.
When they reached New York, Zach continued straight to Boston. He’d postponed a great deal of work while Ashley was in Boston and couldn’t afford any more lost time. They wouldn’t see each other until opening night, ten days away.
Matt and Amy, acting every bit the part of newlyweds, dropped Ashley off at her apartment, then drove off in the taxi, giggling and hugging.
Ashley walked into her empty apartment, and took her bags to her bedroom to unpack. She held herself together until her clothes were put away and she’d taken a shower and fixed herself a cup of tea. But as she sat in the spacious living room, all by herself, she was overcome by loneliness. She stretched out on the couch and gave way to a flood of tears.
“Where the hell is Hans?” Craig stamped down the theater aisle, his hair rumpled, sticking out every which way from too much pulling.
Ashley sat in a seat on the aisle, going over a list, checking off the things that had been done, groaning over the number of items still remaining. “I think he went out to grab a bite of lunch, Craig. What’s up?”
“He wanted a better cue-in for the interlude after Lyle’s exit in the third scene. How the devil does he expect me to work with him if he’s off running around?”
“The poor man does have to eat, Craig.”
Craig dropped into a seat in the row ahead of Ashley’s. “Yeah, I know. I’m getting frazzled.”
She looked at him sympathetically. “I can’t imagine why.”
Craig let out a short laugh. “Running out of time for repairs. We soar or get shot down tomorrow night.”
She studied him anxiously. “Placing any bets?”
“Sure. Bound to be a hit. They loved us in Boston.” Lack of total conviction rang through his tone. He shrugged. “Hell, why should you and I try to con each other? We’ll all be shaking in our booties until the ballots are in.”
“True. No sure things in this game.” They looked at each other helplessly for a second, then Craig got up and walked hurriedly out the side door. Ashley sat still, ignoring her work, focusing inwardly on a peculiar phenomenon. She was having the exact same reaction now that she’d experienced right before the opening of her first on-Broadway show. A pervasive numbness, as though none of the proceedings had much o
f anything to do with her. Funny. She’d expected it to be different this time, less remote, more personal. After all, she was already a bona fide Broadway playwright, with a short but solid record of success. Why did she still feel like an outsider, looking through the window, hoping to be admitted to the warm inner haven of acceptance? Perhaps the mental distancing was a protective device her mind had invented to offset too calamitous a disappointment.
Her mind seemed to deal with a number of things that way. It persisted in canceling out nagging doubts and fears concerning Zachary, insisting on dwelling instead on the delightful memories held over from Boston and Las Vegas. It was better that way, as long as she could make it work. They were, she was all too aware, careering toward the point where they could no longer brush aside all the cloying questions, when decisions would have to be made. The prospect scared her to death. She shook her head and returned to her list. Enough, for the moment, to worry about tomorrow night. The rest of her life would have to wait.
The house was packed. Every inch of official standing room was filled. Ashley and Matt sat huddled together in the back row, inclined forward in preparation for the rising and pacing to which they would soon yield. Ashley kept looking around, nervously anticipating Zachary’s arrival. He was involved in two extremely important cases, one in San Francisco and one in Chicago. She’d known he couldn’t get there until the last minute, but fate had thrown another monkey wrench into the timing. March, doing its “lion” number, had produced an unseasonal blizzard, making hash of the airplane schedules. She wasn’t sure which was making her more nervous, the impending opening of the curtain or the possibility that Zachary wouldn’t make it.
Matt tapped her arm. “Here comes Hans. Oh, God, I’ve got to get up.” Ashley nodded and swung her legs to the side so he could squeeze past.
The round of polite applause faded out as Hans bowed to the audience, turned to his orchestra and gave the downbeat. The first number in the overture was a rollicking, brassy tune that brought a spatter of applause. Ashley scrunched down in her seat, experiencing the onset of intense anxiety. Would it work? Would they like it? Should she have changed that one verse of lyrics that still bothered her? Could she survive a flat-out failure? Where, oh, where, was Zachary? What if he didn’t get there? Oh, Lord, what if he was circling in a plane, his life endangered by the storm?
Love Lyrics Page 17