The curtain was just parting when Zachary quietly slid into the seat next to hers. She had a hard time restraining herself from collapsing in his arms. “Oh, darling,” she whispered, “I’m so relieved you’re here!”
He leaned over to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Me, too, it’s bad out there.”
Any further conversation had to be curtailed. The show had started.
At the end of the first act, Zachary stood quickly and came back to Ashley, who had been driven from her seat by the persistent jump of nerves. She waited for him, then started toward the door that led backstage. Zachary took her arm. “Where are you going? Don’t you want to mingle with the patrons in the lobby? Hear the comments?”
“Oh, no. No, I really couldn’t stand it.”
“Ashley, honey, what are you so nervous about? The audience loves it.”
She stared at him, eyes round with apprehension. “Are you sure? They hardly applauded the ‘Poor Me’ number, and it doesn’t seem like they’re laughing very much.”
“They’re laughing. I think they cut it off so they won’t miss the next line.”
When they’d reached the safety of the backstage area, Ashley sagged against a wall. “I don’t know why I get so crazed. I’m sorry. It must seem so silly to you.”
He pulled her into his arms. “No, not at all. I can’t imagine anything tougher than sitting there with all those people who are about to publicly approve or condemn over three years of your hard labor. Why wouldn’t you be unstrung?”
“Oh, Zachary.” She leaned against his sturdy chest. “It’s so wonderful to have you here with me. I honestly think I could keep my chin up through a flop with you beside me, holding me up.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I honestly don’t think you’ll have to. Besides, no one has to hold you up, love. You’re a very strong, self-sufficient woman.”
She closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth of his embrace, storing up the comfort and the strength that traveled from him to her. Was she really the way he described her? And how did he feel about that? Most men wanted to be essential to their women. It was a subject that probably needed exploring, but she certainly wasn’t up to it now. Further comment was cut off, in any case, by the appearance of Matt.
“Hi, you two. Zach, glad you made it.” Matt’s words leapt forth at machine-gun speed when he was revved. “Have you seen Amy?”
Ashley shook her head. “She may be in Kelly’s dressing room. They took a real liking to each other.”
Zach looked puzzled. “That’s right. Where was Amy during the show?”
“Eighth row center, sitting with some friends.” Matt gave a sheepish grin. “She refuses to sit with me anymore ’cause she says she ends up alone. Which is true.” His feet were shuffling, ready to move. “Gotta go find her, see if she can paste me back together.”
Zachary shook his head. “I don’t believe you two. Everyone in the audience must have sore hands from clapping, and you’re acting like they booed the whole first act.”
“Zachary, old buddy, you said it yourself. Don’t count the money till the money’s in the bank. Same thing holds true here. Never say ‘hit’ until the reviews are in. It’s murder.” With a wave of his hand, he was off.
Zachary glanced around, then said, “I thought your parents were coming tonight.”
She frowned, disappointment showing on her face. “They were, but this darn storm interfered. They’re not the most enthusiastic flyers, even in good weather. The predictions for heavy snow stopped them cold.”
“That’s a shame. It must have been a real letdown.”
She nodded. “Yes. But I have to admit, if I had to choose between their making it, or you, I’d have chosen you.” She gave him a big hug. “My folks will see the show later, and it won’t make that much difference. But I needed you here tonight.”
Ashley insisted on waiting until the audience was seated and the house lights out before sneaking back to their seats. Zachary was getting just enough used to the paranoia that he simply followed her lead, holding her hand tightly to lend support.
When the curtain came down at the end of the second act, the audience rose as though strung together, clapping, cheering, calling “Bravo!” Zachary, caught up in the general enthusiasm, didn’t feel Ashley tugging at his sleeve until she gave it a yank and hissed, “Come on, Zach, let’s get out of here!”
If her mood was strange during intermission, it had moved beyond that to unfathomable. She was remote, withdrawn and gave every appearance of being in a trance. When they were once again cloistered backstage, Zachary took her by the shoulders and asked, “Are you all right?”
“Fine. Just fine.” Her eyes, glazed and unfocused, moved about restlessly. “We should find Craig and Matt, see what they’re going to do.”
“I thought everyone was going to Sardi’s.”
“Matt will, for sure. Craig? I don’t know. Maybe we could find someplace quiet. Get a drink and something to eat.”
“Ashley . . .” he bent closer and waved his hand back and forth in front of her eyes. “Are you in there?”
“What?” She stared at him as though not entirely sure who he was. “In where?”
Zachary took her by the hand. “Come on, Sleeping Beauty. Let’s go find your pals and go to Sardi’s. You’re certainly not going to hide out somewhere and let this experience slide by.”
“But . . . what if the critics hated it?”
“We’ll burn them in effigy and you can feign unconsciousness from smoke inhalation and I’ll carry you out. You’ll get the sympathy of the American public, which should keep the show running an extra year or two.”
“You’re not taking this seriously!”
“You’re right. That’s because you’re taking it far too seriously. You’ll have to read the reviews eventually, no matter where you are. And what if, by any mammoth stretch of the imagination, they happen to be good? How would you feel then about being somewhere quiet, cut off from the fun? Come along, Ashley. I’ve never been involved in a Sardi’s first-night panic. Surely you wouldn’t deprive me of that!”
It was the first smile he’d seen all evening. And the last he was to see for several hours.
The mood at Sardi’s was comprised of the special form of hysteria that comes of nerves stretched taut, high expectation and corrosive apprehension. Voices were pitched high, laughter was sharp-edged and staccato, drinks were downed with frantic rapidity. Zachary had never seen anything like it. The waiting in Boston had been a subdued, held-breath variety that hadn’t prepared him for this raucous anxiety. Ashley continued to act as though someone had set her down, hypnotized her and walked away, forgetting her entirely.
He finally quit trying to pull her out of the mood once Craig assured him she’d return to the living once the papers arrived. “Don’t worry about her, Zach, she’s withdrawn into the ‘holding room.’ It happens to a lot of actors.”
“But Ashley’s a writer, not an actress.”
“So? Just means she has more of herself at risk. The reviews should be in pretty soon now.”
“You seem calm. How do you do it? You have a lot at stake, too.”
“I’ve been in this game a long time, Zach. You develop a pattern. The last days before the opening I’m a wreck, but at this point? Hey, the first showing is history, nothing can be changed. The critics have probably finished their summations. It’s go or no go. Out of my hands.”
Zach was developing a growing admiration for many of these people. Their dedication, persistence, and plain hard work was unexcelled in any other profession he’d observed and, indeed, unequalled in most. He watched Craig move through the group, chatting, encouraging, joking, buoying up spirits. He wasn’t at all sure he’d be that composed under the circumstances. His eyes went back to Ashley. Poor honey. The suspense must be agonizing. He’d acknowledged,
earlier on, the ambiguity of his feelings and accepted them as normal, in fact, inevitable. He hoped for raves for Ashley’s sake, as well as for all the rest of them. From a strictly low-down, selfish standpoint, he couldn’t help facing the fact that a hit would move Ashley more firmly into this world of show business, which meant, inexorably, farther from his “normal” world.
Suddenly a young man came rushing into the room, his hair and coat covered with snow, of which he seemed entirely oblivious. “The New York Times is out!”
Zachary had to stand back to avoid being trampled in the stampede. He found himself holding his breath, his eyes fastened on Ashley, who still sat frozen in her chair. At that moment, all secondary considerations disappeared, and he was left with a single hope: that the review would be lavishly laudatory, that his love’s face would lose that expression of stunned anxiety and be transformed to pure, undiluted joy.
The young man riffled the pages until he obviously found the theater section. He and several others, straining to see, read silently for a few seconds, clearly too fearful to communicate. Zachary considered himself a rather contained man emotionally, but what happened next brought tears to his eyes. The young man’s face lighted up, his eyes round. His smile was mirrored by those around him. He climbed up on a wooden chair, raising his voice to a semi-yell. “For those who have feared the demise of the American musical comedy, who had come to expect nothing better than tired reruns or plotless, tuneless production extravaganzas, take heart. Robbins and Grainger, aided by the magic touch of Craig Clarke, have given us a great glittering gift of a show, full of singable songs, laughable lines, and even, here and there, tear-jerking poignancy.”
A great cheer went up from everyone in the room. Zachary moved to Ashley’s side. Her whole face had become a blazing beacon of joy. As the reading of the review continued, extolling the outstanding performance of Lyle’s Uncle Hermie, the solid portrayal of the rock star by Sammy and the brightest new performer of the decade, namely Kelly . . . she slowly stood up and snuggled into Zachary’s embrace.
When the reading ended, the young man threw his arms above his head, waving the paper. “I’ve got a steady job!” Laughter, the kind full of uncontrollable glee, rolled around the room. The other reviews followed suit, with nary a naysayer among the critics. Jubilation reigned supreme, and Zachary, thoroughly entangled in Ashley’s unbridled happiness, rejoiced with the rest.
As the party began to really crank up, Zachary pulled Ashley off to one side. “Ashley, I’m afraid I’ve got to go. It’s crucial that I get on the red-eye special to L.A. so I can make my meeting in the morning.”
Her mouth fell open in astonished distress. “But Zach, you can’t leave now! I couldn’t bear it!”
“Honey, I told you, four or five days ago, that it was the only way I could get here for opening night. This is a very big merger and it’s vital for me to be there. As it was, I had to bow out of an important discussion to catch the plane east.”
“Oh, damn, I’d forgotten! How could I have forgotten something like that?”
He smiled. “You’ve had some pretty important things on your mind.”
“Couldn’t you take an early morning plane?”
“It’ll be early morning by the time I get there. I’ll barely make it in time as it is. I’m praying the plane will leave on schedule.”
A glimmer of hope came into her eyes. “Maybe you should call. With this storm, the airport may be shut down.”
“I already called. The snow has stopped, and the plane is there now. They expect to leave on time.”
“But Zachary . . .” It was a wail of protest.
His expression sobered, just a little. “Ashley, don’t make this any harder than it already is. I’d love to stay with you, I’m sure you know that. But I can’t. My job is important, too.”
She caught the next protest just in time. She was being unfair. He had told her of the commitment. It wasn’t his fault she’d forgotten, it was hers. She gulped, then went into his arms. “I’m sorry, darling, it’s just that I hate the idea of your leaving me. You’ve been wonderful to make such an effort to get here. I hope you know how much it meant to me to have you here.”
He tipped her chin up and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I do know. And it’s meant a great deal to me to share this triumph with you. Congratulations, Ashley. You’ve accomplished something extraordinary.” He gave her one more kiss and a lingering hug, then was gone.
As Ashley watched him go out the door, a major portion of her balloon of delight deflated, leaving her with the morning-after fatigue that follows too raucous a night.
She got a ride home with Craig and his wife. Everyone else, including Matt and Amy, were still going strong. She kissed them both goodbye and walked into her building, smiling her thank-you to the doorman’s congratulations. In many ways, New York was like a small town. Rumors and current news circulated with uncanny speed.
Ashley unlocked her door and entered the large, empty apartment. The silence was cacophonous. She felt flattened by loneliness. She’d once read a book by Alan Jay Lerner that had explained how he retreated into himself after a flop, so was quite content to be alone; but how important it was to have someone you love to share a hit, in order to thwart the awful loneliness of success. When she’d read it, she hadn’t understood at all. To her mind, failure would always be harder to deal with, alone or not alone. But now, here in this luxurious container of excruciating silence, she knew what he meant. It all seemed a fading memory, not quite trustworthy: the unimaginable pride of accomplishment, the euphoric release of pent-up anxiety, and the thrill of shared delight all vanished into the abyss of soundlessness.
The lapse into sadness had the extra weight of guilt. How could she be so ungrateful, how could she ask for more, when she’d just been handed a large chunk of the world?
As she stood, staring out over the city that had just given her acclaim, she felt an unbearable, overwhelming, crushing need for Zachary. Had he become her sine qua non, without which there was nothing? And, if so, what did her future hold?
She was still there, in the big, still room, when the sun rose.
Chapter Eleven
Hi, Zach.” Ashley sat on the edge of her bed, cradling the phone with her shoulder while she plumped up the pillows to lean against them. These telephone conversations with Zachary grew more lengthy as their time apart expanded. She’d seen him just once, for a day and a night, in the last two and a half weeks. “What’s it like in San Francisco today? Our weather is frigid; I’m beginning to lose hope that spring will ever come.”
“Actually, it’s fairly brisk here. You know San Francisco — it can be pretty chilly if there’s any wind.”
“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t know San Francisco. I’ve never been there.”
“I think it’s very negligent of you not to have seen San Francisco. It’s a wonderful city. Almost as nice as Boston.”
She laughed. “If it’s as good as all that, I’d better hop on a plane today.”
“I wish you would. I miss you terribly.”
She swung her legs up on the bed and sank back on the pillows. “I miss you, too. I’m learning the meaning of ‘wilting on the vine.’ I think that’s what I’m doing.”
“I’d better get back soon, so I can pluck you before that happens.”
She giggled. “A retort comes instantly to mind, but I’ll let it go.”
“I should hope so. How’s the show going? Still standing room only?”
“Oh, yes. It seems impossible that it’s been running for almost three weeks. The bugs have just about been worked out, so for the first time in I can’t think how long, we’re beginning to relax. Matt and Amy are taking off for a late honeymoon next Monday. They’re going to Aruba to lie in the sand. Doesn’t that sound heavenly?”
“It sure does. You and I should go somewhere, too, as s
oon as I get this wrapped up.”
“That would be wonderful, Zach.”
“Then let’s plan on it. As soon as my schedule is predictable, we’ll book space. Start thinking about where you want to go.”
She was suddenly full of anticipation. Nothing in the world would sound as good to her as the prospect of going somewhere far away with Zachary. Well, maybe one thing: Going far away with Zachary on their honeymoon! “I’ll run out today and get scads of brochures. Oh, Zach, I can’t wait!”
“It’ll give me extra incentive to push ahead on this deal. We can’t have you withering away there in the big city.”
“Actually, lest you think of me as a complete stay-at-home, I should tell you I’m about to take off on a trip too.”
His tone immediately changed. “You are? Where?”
Ashley smiled, pleased by the trace of possessive concern in his voice. “I wish I could name someplace at least minimally exotic. . . . Mom and Dad are finally coming to New York to see the show this Friday; I’m flying back with them on Sunday to spend a few days.”
“That’s a good idea. It’s been quite a while since you’ve been there, hasn’t it?”
“Almost ten months. It’s scary how fast time disappears when you’re preoccupied with work.”
“I know. Downright frightening. . . . Ashley, I have to go. I’ve got to get to another meeting. Take care of yourself.”
Each time they reached this point — the ending of the connection — she felt an awful emptiness begin to gather inside. “Talk to you tomorrow,” she said softly. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.” She hated that tone in his voice, the one that said “I have to say goodbye, I’m in a hurry.”
When she’d hung up the phone, she got up and headed for the bathroom to take a shower. Actually, she didn’t have much time, either. She was meeting Matt and Amy and Craig and his wife for dinner before they went on to the theater. It struck her that this could well be the last time for this ritual. The pattern was changing. The need to attend every performance had ended, Craig was negotiating to direct another play. Sonja had already begun work on new choreography. Claire had left for London to consult on costuming a period comedy and Buzz had two offers to light other shows. It was a sad time, in many ways. Rather like watching your family split up. Families were much on her mind lately. In fact, all close relationships. Mainly, of course, one in particular. She reached into the shower stall to turn on the hot water. She was very glad she had somewhere to go tonight, so she wouldn’t be by herself, closed in with her own thoughts.
Love Lyrics Page 18