by Haley Travis
“Great, thanks. I’m going to be nervous, and it will really help if you’re all there. I’ll send the details to our group chat.”
“Okay.” She pauses. “You could have sent the news via text. But you called me. What do you need to ask?”
This circle of friends has become so close that we are starting to read each other’s minds. It’s eerie.
“Okay, I do have a question.” Taking a breath, I force myself to spit it out. “Falling in love is wonderful and all that, but… how do you know it’s the real deal? I mean, when the sparkly new feelings settle down and life becomes life again, how do you know for sure that he’s the one, and you’re not just…”
“Terrified to be alone again?” Claire says softly.
I turn so that my back falls against the brick wall of the building. The truth hits me even harder. I really am terrified of being alone forever, even though I’ve always pretty much assumed it would be my fate.
“Yeah.”
She sighs heavily. “I guess it just drips into your mind slowly. A few drops every day, percolating in like coffee brewing. Every little interaction that reminds you that you’re better off with him than without him. Every time he puts you first, and remembers every detail.”
Claire laughs. “Or when he messes up and apologizes immediately, profusely, and in very cute ways.”
“I guess I’m kind of hoping that everything is perfect and never comes to that. “
“We all hope for that, but something is bound to happen at some point,” Claire says. I could practically hear her smiling.
“Thanks for the pep talk. I should get back to work.”
“Me too,” she says brightly. “See you Wednesday!”
Walking back into the office, Kevin, my manager, is hovering over my desk. “Smoke break?” he asks with a smirk.
“Yes, sorry. What can I help you with?”
His strange smile doesn’t look comfortable. Mind you, he never quite looks comfortable. His dated gray suits seem to wear him instead of the other way around, and he always seems to be picking at something – his tie, the edge of his pocket, his fingernails.
“Month end is on Wednesday, and we need all of the Feldman and Luther reports up-to-date before then.”
“Are you serious? Usually they are happy to get them a couple of days into the month.”
He shrugs his narrow shoulders. “Changing their system, I guess. You don’t mind working late Wednesday, if it comes to that, right?”
I shake my head. “Kevin, I’m sorry, but Wednesday is the first night in months that I really can’t stay late.”
His face falls. “Crap. You’re the absolute best at this.”
Kevin is right that I’m the only one with the patience to do the reports thoroughly. And months ago, I would have simply canceled anything else in my life and taken care of it.
But not now. There’s no way in hell I’m going to miss my very first arts event that I was involved with.
“Let’s make a deal,” I say, trying to sound smooth and collected. “If this work is being dumped on me, how about I pass a bit of my regular work along to make room for it? Perhaps Marla can take care of the Robson quarterly report, and Samantha can do the Durain files. That way, I can work late tonight and Tuesday, and make sure that everything gets to them by noon on Wednesday.”
Kevin blinks in surprise, then grins. “Good thinking. I’ll go speak to them immediately, and if you could send them the links, we’ll all get cracking. Great.”
As he leaves, I slump into my chair, genuinely surprised with myself.
How the heck did I just do that?
Maybe it came from watching Felix slotting differently timed pieces of music into different spots to create a balance, as if they were puzzle pieces. Or maybe I’ve finally grown a back bone. Or maybe, just maybe, when I have a mission, I can do anything.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
~ Felix ~
It’s annoying when I wake up twenty minutes before my alarm. I always feel like I’ve been somehow ripped off and cheated out of a bit of extra sleep that I usually desperately need.
But the smell of coffee and scrambled eggs has me pulling on shorts and a t-shirt and stumbling to the kitchen even before I know which way is up.
Oliver looks up from the cast iron frying pan, then reaches for the egg carton. “Two? Three?”
“Three. Thanks.”
Helping myself to a giant mug of fresh coffee, I sit at the picnic table and stare into space, blinking stupidly for a few minutes. A plate of scrambled eggs, peppers, and onions slides in front of me. “Thanks, man.”
“Putting in too many hours again?” Oliver asks, as he sits across from me with a plate that is nearly identical except a slightly smaller portion.
“Yeah. A bunch of projects all came in at once. And I have to keep tomorrow night free.” I take a sip of coffee before remembering. “You’re coming tomorrow, right?”
“Of course.” His fingers drum on the wooden table. “I’m writing a chapter with a bunch of wanderers in the local tavern, so the timing is perfect. I can create micro character sketches from all the people I see at your event.”
I chuckle while shoveling a forkful of eggs into my face. “Hey, whatever works for you, man.”
“So,” he begins cautiously, “Dan mentioned that you have a lady friend. How’s that going?”
I can feel my face transform into a smile, but I have no idea whether I look happy or demonic.
“Damn,” Oliver laughs. “It’s serious already.”
“She’s…” How on earth do I describe such a beautiful and magical and sweet woman like Tanis? How do I encapsulate the way she makes me feel when she laughs? The way her bright eyes are always studying everything around her?
“Honestly, there aren’t words,” I admit. “And I don’t have time to write you a song about her.”
Oliver grins, lighting up his slightly pale face, which reminds me that we really need to get him outside more.
He suddenly sets down his mug at a strange angle, nearly splashing his coffee. “A woman so beautiful that she can only be described in song,” he says while staring at the ceiling. “That’s the perfect way to describe the queen!”
He starts to get up, and I know he’s about to dash to his laptop.
“Take the food with you,” I command, knowing that he’s already zoning out. “Finish eating that whole plate while it’s hot.”
He nods, while muttering, “It’s a phenomenon that happens with every third queen. Yes. An ancestral cycle. Yes!”
Oliver disappears into his room with his breakfast. I finish eating, then clean up the kitchen, taking another coffee to my studio.
Quickly skimming through emails and my day planner, I jot down what needs to be worked on and completed today, and what needs to be done in the next two days. Seeing everything laid out in a tidy row makes it easier to stay on top of everything.
Mostly, it ensures that I never let anything slip through the cracks.
I don’t mind the stress of working long hours, and working alone. I don’t mind running on three hours of sleep once in a while. But the thought of dropping the ball and disappointing a client is something that makes my blood run cold just to think about.
The only way to be professional is to be professional about everything. Every detail. Greeting people by name, asking about their other projects, and delivering everything early, perfect, and with a lovely personalized note thanking the client for the opportunity.
These are the reasons that my clients call me again and again, even though I’m a one-man show. They know I can straighten out any problem, and pay attention to every last detail.
I have to hope that my attention to the little things will also help with Tanis.
Everything seems to be going wonderfully so far, but I’m never going to take her for granted. I will never be one of those guys who forgets to take her on special dates, or doesn’t comment when she gets her hair done.
Even though my day is packed, I’ll gladly skip a bit of sleep tonight to make time for a quick lunch with her.
After checking that it’s past nine o’clock so that I know she’ll be at work, I send a text.
Me: Hey – super busy day, but can I pop by to bring you a sandwich for lunch?
I turn on my mixing computer and a couple of audio interfaces so they can warm up while I wait for her to answer.
Tanis: Sorry. I’d love to, but I have a massive amount of work to get done so I don’t have to work late tomorrow night.
Me: I totally understand. How massive are we talking?
Tanis: Picture a giant dragon perched on top of a house. The dragon is the workload.
Felix: And you’re the house?
Tanis: No, I’m the squished cola can on the sidewalk in front of the house.
Felix: Ha ha haa
Felix: I’m sorry you’re dealing with that, but at least now I have a very clear visual. Anything I can do to help?
Tanis: I’m good, thanks. Just have to get ’er done.
Felix: All right. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow night.
Tanis: Talk to you then.
I make a mental note to send her a picture of kittens or something later this afternoon, then open my email and start running my eye down my address book.
The next thing I know, I’m blinking at the notepad in front of me. At least ten minutes have passed. The paper in front of me is titled, “Possible video art contacts for Tanis” followed by a list of eight names and companies.
Grinning to myself, I drain my coffee. Tonight, I’m going to get more sleep. But I kind of love that even my subconscious mind wants to do absolutely everything in my power to help my beautiful girl advance her career and become a professional video artist.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
~ Tanis ~
I’m extremely relieved that my friends are so punctual. Claire and Becca are already in the lobby of the small movie theatre when I arrive, and I barely have a chance to hug them both hello before Diana and Elizabeth show up.
“You must be so excited,” Becca chirps, smoothing down her dark pink dress and fluffing her long, blonde hair. “There’ll probably be a lot of guys here, right?”
“Settle down,” Elizabeth laughs. “We have to meet her new boyfriend first before we can go shopping for ourselves.”
I look around at the old-fashioned, art deco decor. It’s unbelievable that I’ve never been to this theatre before. It’s a slightly crumbling classic, perfectly sized at a three hundred person capacity.
Gauging numbers has never been a strong suit with me, but it feels like there are a lot more than a hundred people here.
The concession counter is unmanned, but there are complimentary bottles of water and soda set out, along with displays of brochures for the new television show.
Bite Sized Laughs is a weird title, but it does sort of encapsulate the vibe of the show. At least, what I’m expecting. Felix had also said something about them chopping it into shorts for easy distribution through social media.
“There’s my girl.”
I turn around and spin directly into the wall of Felix’s chest as he hugs me close. “I can feel how nervous you are,” he whispers in my ear. “Everything is going to be great. Try to relax, baby.”
Instantly I feel a bit better, inhaling his warmth. Quickly introducing him to Diana, Becca, Claire, and Elizabeth, he seems delighted to meet my friends. I wave hello to Dan, then shake Oliver’s hand as we’re introduced. “How’s the writing going?” I ask.
“Pretty good, thanks,” he says with a shy smile. “Your coffee is just as good as Felix’s. Thanks.”
I almost blush as Becca gives me a pointed look, since that comment clearly says that I’ve been spending a fair bit of time in their home. As I turn back to Felix, I get the distinct impression that Becca and Oliver are already making eyes at each other.
They can’t be more different, but then, who knows how these things work?
“Gretchen is so pleased with the way it turned out,” Felix says, spinning me to the side. “Apparently we used up the last of their grant budget perfectly, so they’re bound to get ten percent more next year.”
“Is everyone happy with the videos?” I ask nervously.
“Everyone who has seen them is delighted. So, yes.”
The prickles of tension zipping around every part of me unlock a new level of nerves that I didn’t even know were possible.
“It’s okay,” Felix says, running his palm up and down my back. “Your only job now is to enjoy the show, then meet the clients afterward. Come on, let’s get a seat up near the front.”
My knees lock into place. “Is that where the clients and performers are going to be sitting?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Um, I don’t know if I can handle overhearing what they say. Do you mind if my friends and I sit somewhere in the middle? A bit more hidden? “
“Anything you want, baby.” His head dips to kiss my temple, then he whispers, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were this nervous.”
“I didn’t know either, until just now.”
“Last minute stage fright, sort of. I get it.” I love that he just takes over, waving to my friends, “Come this way, ladies. Let’s get you seated right in the middle where the sound is perfect.”
Elizabeth shoots me a wink as she grabs my other arm on the way by. “Breathe,” she whispers. “It’s just one show. You’re going to have hundreds.”
“Thanks.”
Felix settles us in the very center of the space, with me directly in the middle of the row. He gives me a wave as he leaves us to go sit with his friends in the second row, directly behind a woman who already has a yellow legal pad and a pen out.
She must be the client, so I resign myself to the fact that I’ll have to meet her afterward, even though the way she seems to be examining every detail of the people around her is a bit much.
First there is a brief introduction by a man and a woman who apparently run this comedy collective. Then the director of programming at MicroCity TV Network thanks the Arts Council, and an impossibly long list of donors and volunteers before finally sitting down.
In the moment of silence before it begins, I realize I’m barely breathing. Diana elbows me. “I know it’s hard, but try to relax.”
“Thanks. I’m trying.”
The blackness of the screen dissolves into dark green waves, then it eventually focuses on my strange arrangement of moving plants that truly do look like a jungle on the big screen.
Felix’s music swells, and the off-kilter sound of a hurdy-gurdy mixed with a techno beat is absolutely deranged. People are already chuckling before the logo pops up, the letters quickly dissolving into my sparkle animations around the plant leaves.
The editors have blended their style and mine perfectly, and I hope I get a chance to thank them later.
The first comedian’s three and a half minutes about car washes in the winter has everyone in absolute stitches. I’ve never heard Elizabeth laugh so hard, and notice that Dan actually spins around to grin at her in the dark.
As the first of my interstitials pops up, I’m both shocked and relieved when everyone laughs out loud. The leaf pattern at the top of my latte turns into waves around my finger as the voiceover states that coffee and tea are the exact same thing. The voice has been tweaked to sound like some sort of helium breathing fairy.
“Where did you guys find that bizarre voice ?” Claire whispers.
“That’s me,” I giggle.
“No way,” Becca laughs.
I’m finally able to unclench and enjoy the rest of the show. Now that I see how differently the comedians have been filmed, it completely makes sense to have something totally different in between them. My videos really are a palate cleanser for the eyes.
When the show ends with an echo of my green leaf video, the credits pop up on the screen and hold in place while everyone b
ursts into applause. I can clearly hear the people two rows ahead saying it’s about time this network aired something truly fresh and original.
We all stand and shuffle out to the aisle so my friends can hug me.
Pulling out my phone, I take a panoramic video of the theatre now that the lights are halfway up, pausing on the screen.
Then I stop, actually reading the text.
Diana leans close. “Where’s your name?”