The Final Act

by Dee, Bonnie

  Maybe he was only capable of portraying the emotion, never feeling it.

  “So, you’re really leaving us?” Denny leaned in so Elena could hear him over the clamor in the club. “God, it won’t be the same without you.”

  Elena smiled. “Nichole is good. You won’t even miss me.”

  “Don’t say that! You’re like family. Of course we’ll miss you.” Gretchen hugged her. “You nervous?”

  “Oh yeah. Petrified. Me in a movie with bankable movie stars? I’m terrified.”

  “This is your year,” Denny said. “Big things are happening for you.”

  The bon voyage get-together was in her honor, but Elena was already tired of talking about herself and her future, so she abruptly changed the subject. “How’s Tom doing?”

  Denny shrugged. “We’re still waiting for the results of the tests after his second course of radiation. To tell the truth, I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be with the show myself. If the cancer’s still there, I’m going home, whether he wants me to or not. He needs me to be with him even if he won’t admit it.”

  Elena gripped his hand. “Let me know as soon as you find out. I’ll be praying for him, Denny.”

  She glanced up and her gaze met Michael’s. He was seated at the other end of the table, as far from her as he could get. They hadn’t spoken except when necessary for the past two weeks. It was awkward as hell acting like new lovers onstage, kissing and cuddling and exchanging words of love, when in reality they couldn’t be more estranged.

  The air between them crackled with an electric charge. The din of the room seemed to fade until there was only the pair of them locking gazes over the length of the table. Elena tore her attention away, but not before Gretchen caught the scorching look.

  “Have you talked to him?”

  She shook her head. “He made it clear he wasn’t interested in a long distance relationship. There didn’t seem to be much to say after that.”

  Gretchen nodded, but Denny spoke up. “That’s it? You didn’t try to work anything out? That’s nuts!”

  “He’s probably right, anyway,” Elena continued. “I’m going. He’s staying. We have different career goals. Why bother?”

  “Because you care! Because he cares. That’s why you should bother. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I think you two really have something.”

  “You are a hopeless romantic,” Elena agreed. “There’s nothing serious between us. We had some great chemistry and a good time. Now it’s over.”

  Gretchen made a protesting sound.

  Elena glared at her. “You’re supposed to support me, sister.”

  “I am. I do. But this isn’t like Jake cheating on me, is it? I mean, you and Michael had a falling out over a little geography. Can’t you find a way to work around it?”

  “Not if one of us doesn’t care enough to bother,” Elena snapped.

  After that, Denny politely changed the subject to another topic, different gossip, other peoples’ problems. Elena sipped her drink and laughed loudly at one of Chris’s interminable jokes. She kept her eyes to herself, refusing to even glance toward the far end of the table. She’d had her last performance with Michael earlier that evening, last touch, last kiss, last embrace, and this dinner would be the last time she saw him before catching the plane to Toronto. But that was fine. It was time to close the curtain on their relationship. That act was over.

  Scene Fourteen: Second Chances

  “Buy you a beer?” Michael slid onto the bar stool beside Jake and held up a hand to get the bartender’s attention.

  Jake didn’t reply, reminding Michael why he never talked to the guy. It was too hard to pull words out of him. They stared up at the TV where a poker tournament was on. The high bidder had just been dealt a two of clubs and jack of diamonds that matched nothing on the table. He was going to have to fold or bluff.

  The bartender brought a pair of bottles. Michael took a swig of the cold ale and set the bottle down. He gazed at the television another moment before plunging in. “Hey, man. I know we don’t know each other. We’ve never talked. Your life is none of my business.”

  Jake’s raised eyebrow answered eloquently.

  Michael paused, searching for words that wouldn’t sound condescending as he gave unasked for advice. “I think we’re a lot alike, you and me.”

  “Yeah? How’s that?”

  “Don’t talk about feelings. Don’t like to commit. All that shit.”

  Jake stared at the bottle in front of him.

  Michael’s face burned. “This is way out of left field, I know, but the night Gretchen went to the hospital, I saw how much you care about her. Don’t lose her, man. It’s not too late to fix things.”

  Jake’s odd, pale eyes remained focused on the beer label.

  “She’s pissed at you, but she loves you, too, you know.”

  Another silent moment passed before Jake finally spoke. “I broke it off for a reason. It’s better this way.”

  Michael understood all too well. It was how he’d been able to let Elena go when he wanted to beg her to stay. It was how he’d kept his mouth shut those last two weeks before she left, instead of telling her how he really felt.

  “You’re wrong. It’s not better for you or for her,” he said.

  “She was all fucked up because of me. Now she’s back to normal. Gretchen’s better without me.”

  It was hard to argue with that. After her accidental overdose, Gretchen seemed much more like the good-natured girl she’d been when she joined the troupe. But there was something lacking. Her vivacious personality had dimmed.

  “Maybe,” Michael agreed. “But she’s not happy either. She misses you.”

  “She’ll get over it.”

  “Do you want her to get over you? Do you want to let the best thing that’s ever happened to you slip out of your life?”

  Jake stared straight into his eyes. “Are we talking about me or you?”

  Michael was shocked silent for a moment, and then he said, “It was different with me and Elena. I had to let her go because she had a great career opportunity. It was the right thing to do.”

  “You let her go for her sake. Or maybe you were afraid to put yourself out there and tell her how you felt.”

  “Shut up.” Michael swiveled on his bar stool to face the rows of bottles, while wondering how much his fist would hurt if he plowed it into Jake’s face.

  “You didn’t have to end the relationship just because Elena left. There are phones, the Internet. It’s a small world.” Jake’s calm voice was inexorable. “You could call her right now for that matter.”

  “No. Seriously. Shut up.” Michael glared at the TV where the poker player had bluffed and lost. The player stood and walked away from the table.

  “Want another beer?” Jake asked.

  “Sure.”

  Michael drank a second beer, then another, sitting in silence beside Jake and getting slowly wasted as the evening wore on.

  He didn’t think about Elena. He didn’t really miss her that much. Memories just struck him at odd times of the day. Logan would say something outrageous, and Michael would think how she would laugh when he told her about it—but she wasn’t there to tell.

  Or he’d look across the stage during the opening number and just for a second expect to see her instead of Nichole Marks. Kissing Nichole was uncomfortable. Her mouth felt wrong, their embrace awkward. He had to work to imagine heat between them. It had been so easy with Elena.

  Sometimes he’d hear laughter as he passed the women’s dressing room, and it sounded like Elena’s. He imagined if he opened the door, he’d find her inside.

  Meals were different now. He’d gotten used to walking with Elena down to breakfast or brunch in the dining room of whatever hotel they were in. They’d usually have a late lunch before the show and a snack afterward. Michael didn’t feel very hungry these days.

  It was strange not to have her bitching about things that happened during a
performance. Nichole never complained about anything. She was quiet and even-tempered and pretty boring to be around.

  Of course, it was only natural that he’d miss the sex. Their fiery chemistry onstage had translated into fireworks in bed. Michael’s cock hardened just thinking about Elena’s satiny skin, her soft mouth, sharp nails, and vocal lovemaking. It wasn’t like he dwelled on it or anything, but he couldn’t help dreaming about her at night.

  Every night.

  And, yes, there were random times throughout the day when the memory of her smile or voice would distract him from what he was doing or who he was talking to, but it didn’t mean he missed her.

  Sure, maybe sometimes he considered calling just to hear her voice on the phone, but caller ID wouldn’t allow that type of stalker behavior. She would know it was him and might think he wanted to talk to her—which he didn’t.

  She was the one who’d broken up with him, just because he was logically discussing their future. If anyone should call and apologize, it should be her.

  Besides, he really didn’t miss her at all. Not much.

  At least he wouldn’t when the show was over. Then he could stop kissing Nichole every night while pretending she was Elena.

  In the pit, Jake watched Gretchen on the monitor. He was a galaxy away from her star, just as he’d been those first months in Chicago when he pined for her and knew she’d never be with him. Now it was as if they’d never been together, a dream vanished on waking to reality.

  He turned his attention from her shining gold hair to play an intricate interlude on his guitar. His fingers moved nimbly up and down the neck. It was a bittersweet song about love and loss. Weren’t they all?

  Jake had repeated it so many times now he could have played it in his sleep. He hated the fucking song. He hated this fucking gig. He’d played with a lot of bands and sometimes worked as a studio musician, but he’d never been forced to play the exact same music over and over every damned day. It was like that myth about the guy pushing a rock up a hill. It felt like the tour would never end.

  Finishing the interlude, he glanced at the monitor again. Gretchen kissed Renée during their characters’ commitment ceremony. He remembered what it was like to kiss Gretchen, how warm and soft her lips were and how her body felt in his arms. What would it be like to stand beside her and promise to love forever and all that shit like she and Renée did every night in the play? He didn’t really believe that kind of love was possible and had certainly never seen that fairytale stuff firsthand. But somewhere deep inside him burned a little pilot light that hoped ever-after love could exist.

  Meeting Gretchen’s parents and close-knit family, he’d experienced a taste of what life could be like. Words like “family” and “forever” meant something to those people. It was a code they lived by and took seriously, kind of like the Mafia without the violence. Jake smiled and turned the page of music in front of him.

  Maybe Michael was right and he could win Gretchen back. Maybe he didn’t have to remain stuck playing the same tune over and over, but could change it up and become the kind of guy who was worthy of a woman like Gretchen.

  Maybe.

  After the show, Jake put his guitar in its case and told Steve he was heading back to the hotel.

  “Come on, man. You never go out with us anymore. You can’t quit living because of some chick. You’ve got to saddle up and ride again.”

  “Tomorrow. I’ve got things to do tonight.”

  “Like what? Sit and sulk or sit and brood? If you come with us, you can get wasted and mope.”

  Jake raised his hand, middle finger extended, and walked away.

  Back at the hotel, he did exactly as Steve predicted, lay on his bed and pondered how he’d ruined the best chance he’d ever had at happiness. Sipping a beer, he stared at the TV.

  The camera moved jerkily as cops chased and took down a shirtless drug dealer. Half the audio was bleeped out and there was a hard-driving soundtrack intended to give the video a gritty street-appeal. It was such bullshit. Growing up, Jake had seen plenty of drug busts, and they weren’t nearly as dramatic as the show made them seem.

  Once, when he was seven or eight, he’d been playing with the kid who lived in the apartment across the hall. Jared? Gerald? They’d built a fort of couch cushions in the corner of the living room and were under the canopy of a blanket when the police knocked on the door of the apartment, then burst in.

  Gerald’s dad, sitting in his La-Z-Boy, smoking and watching TV, stood. The cops cuffed him, read him his rights and marched him out the door. The arrest was over in seconds, quick and easy.

  The boys watched from the shelter of their tent. Gerald’s mom got her purse and told them to play nice while she went to the police station.

  After she left, the apartment was quiet. They sat for a few seconds then Gerald said, “I know where my mom hides the candy.”

  They raided the cupboard and ate a bagful of mini-Snickers bars until Jake felt sick. He never asked his playmate what his daddy had done, and soon after that the kid and his mom moved away.

  As a teen, Jake had once been arrested for dealing. It was humiliating, but not at all exciting. He turned off the television. The memories of his delinquent past only reminded him how different his life was from Gretchen’s, and why he’d sabotaged their relationship. What could he give her? Nothing. He could only take from her.

  Do you want to let her slip out of your life? It had shocked him when Michael sat by him at the bar and encouraged him to try again with Gretchen. Jake knew most of the cast thought he was the worst kind of asshole, and it made him feel kind of good that Michael, at least, thought he wasn’t such a bad guy.

  Maybe he wasn’t. If he stopped drinking and drugging, begged her forgiveness and made a real commitment to her, maybe he could have the life he’d only dreamed of.

  Jake got up then sat back down, rubbing his hand over his face. His stomach lurched at the thought of facing Gretchen. She’d slam the door in his face.

  He stood again, the faint whiff of hope urging him on. He left his room and walked down the hall to stop in front of Gretchen’s door—so close and yet she might as well be miles away. Seconds turned into minutes. Once he raised his hand to knock, and then dropped it to his side again. After several minutes, he turned, ready to retreat to his room in defeat.

  Suddenly voices from inside grew louder, and the door opened. Cara burst through, almost running into Jake. She let out a little screech.

  “Shit! What are you doing?”

  He stepped back. “I, uh… Is Gretchen here?”

  Cara’s eyes narrowed. “None of your business, stalker.”

  Gretchen appeared at her side and stared at him like he was a bag of garbage someone had left outside her door.

  “I can handle this,” she said.

  Jake swallowed. He didn’t imagine she would handle him gently. “Can I talk to you?”

  “What for, Jake? What is there to talk about?”

  He’d never thought Gretchen’s voice could be so cold and harsh.

  “I want to apologize for what happened.” He wished Cara would leave, but she stood beside Gretchen, burning him with her glare and her arms crossed over her chest like a bodyguard.

  “Why? You told me from the beginning you wanted to keep it casual. I was naïve to expect anything more from you. I should thank you for helping me grow up a little.”

  “I’m sorry.” He glanced at Cara then back at Gretchen. “Can we talk privately?”

  “No. I don’t think that’s necessary.”

  “Please.” It was hard as hell to face her and tell the truth, impossible in front of a witness.

  Gretchen sighed. “Whatever.” She glanced at Cara.

  “I’ll be just down the hall, and I’m coming back in five minutes.”

  Cara knocked Jake’s shoulder with hers as she pushed past him.

  Stepping aside, Gretchen let him into the room. He felt like a condemned man walking to his death
. She closed the door and leaned against it, arms folded. “So?”

  Skewered by her gaze, Jake felt paralyzed, his mouth too numb to speak.

  “Talk or leave. Cara’s not kidding when she says she’ll be back in five.”

  “What happened with that girl wasn’t what you think.” He stared at the frayed gold carpet rather than meet her eyes. “I did that to make it easy for you to hate me and keep away from me.”

  “Well, congratulations then. You got what you wanted.” Her voice was as sharp and brittle as shards of glass.

  “After I met your family, I knew I had to end it. None of them thought I was good enough for you, and they were right.”

  Her arms dropped to her sides and she took an almost threatening step toward him. “You’re paranoid! I never heard anyone in my family say anything rude to you.”

  “They didn’t have to. I knew it. For Christ’s sake, I got you hooked on drugs, and you overdosed.” Jake forged ahead. “Your dad said you were unhappy and he was right.”

  “What?” Gretchen exploded. “What else did my father say to you?”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. The point is I wanted to do something you couldn’t forgive.” He hesitated. “But maybe I was wrong.”

  “Do ya think?” Sarcasm dripped like poison from the words. She stood with her hands on her hips, her anger lighting her up like a righteous golden angel. Jake was humiliated at how hot the sight of her made him. His dick was rock hard from wanting her.

  “Anyway, I want to apologize and to say you were the best thing I’ve ever had in my life. I should have been changing myself instead of trying to drive you away.”

  Gretchen snorted. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Are you asking me to forgive you and give you another chance?”

  His mouth was so dry he could hardly speak. He studied the little brown mole just above her collarbone and wished he could reach out and touch it. “I guess. If you think you could.”

  “Why should I take a chance and risk being hurt like that again?” Her voice was suddenly softer, and he could hear the pain lacing her words.