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Her eyes stay on the wine. "It was a long drive, but it was nice."
The bartender hands over our drinks and I pay. I consider warning Barbara that we can't bring our drinks into the theater, but somehow I doubt she's going to have a drop left in her glass come curtain.
Barbara downs half her glass in one sip. She offers another smile, weaker than the last one. "I didn't know Alyssa was seeing someone."
"You two are in touch?"
She shakes her head. "No. It's been a while."
I bite my tongue. "How long has it been?"
She shrugs. "She's a very independent girl."
There isn't a hint of sadness or regret in her voice. She can barely bring herself to care that she isn't in touch with her only daughter.
"I'm sure she made efforts," I say.
"A few years after she moved to L.A., but we got into a fight and she made it clear she didn't want to speak to me anymore."
"What happened?"
Barbara finishes her glass. "That's a family matter. Excuse me." She moves to the bar, waits in line, and orders another glass of wine.
It's ten minutes to curtain now, but I'm still certain she'll finish in time.
When Barbara returns, I offer her my most charming smile. She and Alyssa may not have the greatest relationship, but she must want to reconnect.
"Alyssa told me that you work in real estate."
"Yes."
So this is going to be more difficult than I hoped. "I'd love to hear about it."
There's a tiny hint of life on her face. It may just be the second glass of wine, but I'm staying optimistic.
We slip into a conversation about her job. She works as an office manager for a real estate company. Long hours, lots of weekends, but it pays well enough.
The PA system turns on and a voice directs us to take our seats. I lead Barbara inside. We have a spot in the fourth row, but this is not of interest to Barbara. She sits and plays a game on her phone. Conversation over.
I take a deep breath, but my clenched muscles refuse to relax.
The theater starts to fill, and Barbara reluctantly puts away her phone. I rack my brain for something to encourage her. She did agree to come. She must be proud of Alyssa. There must be something there.
"Your daughter really is amazing," I say.
She shrugs.
Fine, she's shrugging now, but she's not going to manage to keep that up. No one could watch Alyssa perform and come away from it apathetic.
The lights go down, and the play begins. Stanley joins his friend Mitch and calls up to the apartment above.
Barbara is already in another world, leaning back in her chair, staring at her fingernails like they are the most fascinating thing she's ever seen.
It doesn't get any better.
The whole damn play, Barbara can't even muster the energy to fake interest. Even when Alyssa is on stage. Even in the last scene, where Alyssa's character is carted off to a mental institution.
Even during the final bow.
