Never Enough

by Alexandra Caluen

  “Okay.” Victor and Loretta both looked disappointed.

  “Don’t feel bad. This isn’t easy. Let’s focus on getting the elevation here where there’s a safe place to fall.” Sort of safe, Andy thought, cringing at the potential for disaster. They really wanted to do it, though, so he carried on.

  Forty minutes of splashing, shrieking, and laughing later, they all hauled out onto the dock. They were resting there when they heard Jonathan.

  “Nobody told me there was a pool party.”

  “Jonathan, Andy is trying to teach us the lift. I am so, so bad.” Loretta’s voice was husky from shrieking.

  “She is not bad.” Andy was flat on his back on the dock. He’d done his share of lifting, getting Loretta to really commit to the jump, challenging her

  with his extra two inches of height. “This shit is difficult.”

  “Yes it is.” Victor was sitting cross-legged, rolling his neck.

  “I’m sorry I’m so heavy,” said Loretta, who weighed about a hundred and twenty pounds.

  “You are not heavy. That’s not why we’re crashing.”

  “Did you really think you’d get it in one night?” Andy sat up. “And with a very not-the-best coach? We can work on it some more tomorrow.”

  Jonathan said, “Same time?” Everybody else looked at him. “Well, I could spot you. Then Andy could watch and see where the problems are.”

  “If you could help spot them, we could do this in the gym with the crash mats.” Those were in place for fight rehearsals. Andy would have suggested it already if he hadn’t thought it was a really bad idea to risk Loretta and Victor both falling. “And with their shoes on.”

  The following night, things improved fast. In the well-lit gym, with crash mats and a tall strong spotter on each side, Loretta and Victor both had more confidence. They actually got up to the lift four times. “That is amazingly good!” Andy said, when he finally made them stop for the night. “Next time you’ll be able to hold it.”

  “Are you sure,” Loretta said, wincing. “Ay, my hips. It’s a good thing I’m not in a swimsuit for the rest of this thing.”

  “Sorry about the bruises, honey.” Victor had a few himself.

  “What the hell is going on in here?” They all looked around, as guilty as teenagers caught with a bong. It was the location producer.

  “Um, we’re practicing?” Victor said. “For the dance scene?”

  “Ms. Bautista, are you injured?”

  “No! I’m fine. I’m tired, that’s all. We’re done here, sí?”

  “Sí amiga, go take a hot bath and get some rest.” Victor kissed her cheek.

  The producer let her go, studying the three men with narrowed, suspicious eyes. “Mr. Morris, I don’t believe you and Mr. Martin are in the dance scene.”

  “Nope.” Jonathan didn’t give her anything else.

  “Andy was giving us some professional pointers,” Victor said, reminding the producer of his husband’s bona fides. “And Jonathan didn’t feel like staying in his room alone. Right, Jonathan?”

  “Right.” He said the one thing the producer would probably appreciate.

  “Hey, it’s better than all of us being in the bar.”

  She gave him a sideways look and flapped her hand. “Fine. Whatever you’re up to, at least everyone’s still walking. But get out of here now.” They all made cooperative noises and headed out.

  They didn’t say a word until they got up to their floor of the hotel. “Oh my God you guys, I haven’t felt so busted since my mom caught me with a six-pack.” Jonathan was laughing as quietly as he could. Andy and Victor were cracking up too, stifling it. “You think you can get it tomorrow? If she catches us again, you’re toast.”

  “We’ll get it tomorrow,” Victor said.

  Andy said, “You’d better.”

  Victor had a break the next day. A morning scene with Jonathan went perfectly and wrapped early, leaving him with hours before he had another scene to do with Loretta. It wasn’t enough time to go back to the hotel and molest Andy, so he only sent a text saying how much he’d like to. Then he composed a text to Dana and their other three best girlfriends: Hi girls. I know Andy’s been in touch. He’s been apologizing as much as I have but I know I’ve still got some penance. With you too because I worried you. I’m sorry. I’ve been in touch with our counselor to let her know what happened and will follow up when we’re in town. Thanks again for being there for us.

  OXO

  He wasn’t really expecting a reply. Vicky and Sharon were probably at work; Dana and Rory might be doing any one of a dozen things. But he got a text back from Vicky: I’m skiving off work today for a rehearsal. Dana told us you guys straightened it out. Sorry we smacked you so hard Don’t worry, I felt like I deserved it

  Eh maybe not. Dana had us a little worked up. You know when she calls Andy big brother she really means it

  Yeah I know

  But I was there when you saved his life. I mean not that exact second obviously but I saw him covered with your blood, and Stan there trying to plug that godawful hole in you, so I know how much he means to you.

  Whatever was going on this summer, I know you’ll solve it. Sharon too

  Victor had to take a minute. He hadn’t expected this level of absolution.

  Thanks for that chica. We are blessed to have friends like you. Oh FML

  here’s that damn producer again, back to work for me OXO

  Stay out of trouble. Don’t drop Loretta

  OMG you’re not supposed to know about that LOL

  I don’t know nothing, get off the phone OXO. Victor put away his phone, feeling like a great weight had been lifted off his heart.

  The following Tuesday, Andy left all his other projects and went to the club location with the crew. He had to see if Victor and Loretta pulled it off.

  All he took with him was his camera. The location producer gave him another suspicious look when he ambled in. “You’re not in this scene.” There were already close to fifty extras milling around, in colorful summer-resort evening wear.

  Andy was in jeans and a tee shirt. “No I’m not. Do you mind if I hang out and watch?”

  “You have to be outside the main doors, behind camera three.”

  “That’s fine. I won’t get in the way.” He’d been on set so much with this production, he could almost read the director’s mind. “Pictures okay?”

  “Don’t post anything.”

  “I won’t.” With that, he strolled off to the craft services area to see about some coffee. Behind his casual face, he was nervous. If this went bad, it was probably his fault. If Loretta got hurt – or if Victor got hurt – it was definitely his fault. If they crashed in a non-damaging way that they could use for comedy in the scene, which he knew they were prepared to do, he could live with it. Any other kind of crash, not so much.

  Fortunately, they didn’t crash. Nobody was expecting the lift, that was for sure. There was a genuine gasp from the crowd of extras when they made it, and genuine cheers at the end of the dance when they took their in-character bows. They got offstage while Andy was busy texting Dana: OMG

  Victor and Loretta totally nailed the lift and even if the rest of the movie sucks this is AWESOME. He looked up and the location producer was standing there, arms crossed, tapping her foot. “What?”

  “Did you have something to do with that?”

  “With what? Did something happen?” She gave him a hateful look and

  stalked off. Dana this producer knows I was in on it. She wants to cut off my head and use it for a punch bowl

  A reply pinged in: Eww gross Andy are you laughing your ass off right now?

  Yes but on the inside for plausible deniability oh shit they’re setting up for another take

  Fingers crossed. Did you get video?

  You know I did. TTYL OXO

  OXO

  They did the dance scene twice more, after a lengthy conference with the director and producer, who was on her
phone the entire time. Probably with a lawyer. Whatever everyone said, the outcome was that the dance was performed with the lift. Andy suspected the third take was punishment, or maybe they were hoping for a good outtake for the special features. The second and third times through, all the production assistants had eyes on the extras, because more than one oh-so-casually had a phone out and nobody wanted this to leak. Andy took some stills. Somehow Victor and Loretta managed not to crash, though it was a near-run thing on that third take.

  After that it was time for the lunch break. Andy deliberately stayed away from Victor because he knew if they got caught talking about the dance, which they would have, they were all in big trouble. They exchanged some nonsensical texts. Andy found Loretta and avoided her laughing eyes while sincerely congratulating her for her sensational performance. He called the hotel and arranged for flowers to be sent to her room, and for some therapy gear to be sent to his and Victor’s. Then they had a backstage dialogue scene to do, which also went for three takes. Andy found a place to lurk back there, halfway listening to the dialogue and halfway concentrating on watching them move. They both looked fatigued, but not damaged. He finally relaxed.

  “Fucking hell, my back,” said Victor, much later.

  “Actually hurt, or just tired?”

  Victor winced his way out of his jeans and shirt, trying to tell the difference. “I don’t know. Probably tired. I can’t believe we did that with less than a week to train.” He checked himself out in the mirror as if he thought he should look different. The tank top and briefs didn’t tell him anything new. The body underneath said ‘I hate you.’

  “I can’t either. Lie down, I got you something.” Andy waited for Victor to arrange himself face-down on the bed, then laid the already-warm electric heating pad on his husband’s back. He listened to the whimper of pleasure and got to work massaging Victor’s legs. “You were fantastic. Truly, truly great.”

  “Did you get video?”

  “Yes I did, and some bitchin’ stills. You want Molly?”

  “So much.”

  “Hop on up, Molly. There you go, good girl.” The dog lay down next to Victor. He draped an arm over her back. “I can’t believe those fuckers made you do it three times.”

  “I can’t either. What’s for dinner?”

  “A very antioxidant super greens salad with filet Oscar and as much red wine as you want.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” He leaned over to kiss one of those bare legs. “Let me know if the heat is too much.”

  “Mmm.” Victor fell asleep almost instantly. Andy turned the heating pad off after fifteen minutes and sat beside him, checking email and catching up with people, until Victor stirred again.

  Andy heard the sounds of imminent dinner in the hall. “Good timing, catnip.”

  Chapter 9

  August 2019

  The night the shoot wrapped went very late. Not because filming ran long, but because there was an epic wrap party. The scenes in the Catskills were all in the first third of the movie – they’d essentially been filming the thing backward – and the tone had gotten progressively lighter and sillier.

  Jonathan’s character had met the woman who played his love interest in the Poconos and Niagara, whom he’d had to rescue in Michigan as part of the big dramatic climax. Loretta and Victor’s characters had established the relationship they’d started in the previous movie, complete with love scenes, misunderstandings, and a low-voiced but operatic Spanish-language argument out on the dock. Two of the bad guys had been dealt with, three more had gotten away to create mayhem later in the story. All five of those actors were still on location the last day, though all of the extras had been released. Somebody put on some music, and nobody shut them down. Andy and Victor sneaked out at about two in the morning.

  “That,” Victor said when they were back in their room, “was fun. If they never do another one that’ll be great for all of us to look back on.”

  “You don’t think they will?” Andy was doing the bare minimum of tidying-up. They weren’t checking out the next day. The security guy had walked Molly and she was on the couch, half-snoozing. “You know this thing is going to make money.” The first two certainly had. Andy kind of hoped they would do another one. This one was the first that would have Victor’s name above the title with Jonathan’s. And about a million times as many people would see this as had seen ‘The Ghost of Carlos Gardel.’

  “Yeah, it’ll make money. You never know.” The co-stars hadn’t tried putting together a new treatment this time, or maybe it was more accurate to say ‘yet.’ Jonathan already had a contract for something that started the following March, Victor had his thing starting in July. “It couldn’t start filming until eighteen months from now, earliest.”

  “It’ll take them that long to develop a script.” They were washed up now.

  The rum was long gone. Andy went to the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the balcony, listening to the sounds of the Eastern forest. “It’s nice out here.”

  “Yeah, it is.” Victor stood by the bed for a moment, looking at his husband’s naked back and those long bare legs. He should have been too tired to be thinking what he was thinking. But they didn’t have to get up early, or at all. “I’m so glad you could be here.”

  “Me too.” He was also glad when Victor came up behind him, put his arms around Andy, and kissed the back of his neck. Andy wrapped his arms over Victor’s. “I’m still trying to get my head around you not working for eleven months.”

  “Me too. I’ve never not worked for that long.”

  “Me neither.” Andy turned his head for a kiss. “We’re still going to be busy as hell.” Victor laughed under his breath. They did have a lot of stuff in the works. “We’re taking Loretta home with us, right?”

  “Yeah, I don’t like the sound of that ex of hers. I wonder if Jonathan would like to hang out a little. Maybe we should try to do another treatment.”

  “You totally should. You know he’s going to be in town. He said Jenny was working on a series now, they’re going to want some time together till he’s off on location again.” Andy turned to face Victor, going for a long hug.

  Soon there would be kisses, but right now he wanted the hug.

  “How are you doing, baby.” It was quiet.

  A sigh. “I get the emails from Mom and it’s always this jolt. This, not exactly a surprise, just oh yeah, Pop’s not there anymore. She’ll never be telling me what he said or what he did. Once in a while there’s a hint. Like, I went this place your father used to go, I saw his friend so-and-so, we had a good talk. I don’t know how she does it.”

  “It was that way for me, for a while. Tía Susana would write to me and there was nothing about Mama and I’d be like why, and then I’d remember.”

  They were quiet for a minute. “I hope we make it for fifty-four years.”

  “I would literally be one hundred years old.”

  “So?” Victor leaned back a little to smile at Andy. “It’s a nice round number.” Andy was gazing at him with something like sadness. Victor’s smile faded. “I know. We’ll never have enough time. Infinity wouldn’t be enough time. I’m sorry I ever wasted a second of it.”

  “You didn’t. We didn’t. Kiss me.”

  Andy probably would have sent the email to Reggie anyway, but maybe

  not right then. He’d pulled the image that first day, after Reggie said that thing about a painting. He was sitting on the couch in the room, laptop open, Molly snoozing beside him, watching Victor sleep. Thinking of the time when Victor had surprised him with a framed 20x16 photograph of the two of them, a photo that a friend had taken during their first trip together. It hung in their bedroom now, and it always would. But there were other walls, and he didn’t really think either of them would ever get tired of being reminded of the tour.

  He opened the image again. It was a still from their performance of

  ‘Mein Herr,’ in Berlin. O
ne of the showiest poses, when Andy had his upstage leg on Victor’s shoulder. His upstage arm was extended up and back; Victor’s upstage hand was braced on Andy’s ribs. Victor’s weight had been split, with his downstage leg back, standing far enough away that Andy’s downstage leg was at the same angle. Their downstage arms were linked to stabilize the position. The overall shape was of the letter ‘X.’ You had me, Andy thought, remembering how many times they worked that through to fix the balance points. He wrote:

  Hi Reggie I’ve been thinking about the whole ‘paint me’ thing and have a counteroffer. Specifically, ‘paint us.’ I want to give V a present.

  If you can work from a photo I’m attaching one. Name your price.

  Cheers – Andy

  He attached the photo and sent it off. It was already afternoon in London.

  He set the laptop on the side table and stretched out (to the extent he could) on the couch, rearranging Molly along his side. The next thing he heard was

  “You’re going to regret sleeping there.”

  Andy pried himself out of the pretzelated position he’d settled into, laboriously sat up, twisted his back and rolled his neck. “You are so right.

  Fortunately we don’t have to travel today. Maybe they can find us another massage person.”

  “Why were you on the couch?” Victor poured them both coffee.

  Apparently room service had delivered while Andy slept.

  “Woke up, had some thoughts, wanted to deal with them. Didn’t want to wake you up by crawling back in bed.”

  “I wouldn’t have minded.” He never did. “In fact, for the record, I like it when you wake me up. Because that means I get to go to sleep with you