The stage manager comes up behind me, his mic and headset obscuring his face, as he gives me my five second cue. But I’m already holding in my breath, waiting to walk on stage and give him a piece of my mind.
Technically, Silvia’s mind.
Geesh, acting can really screw with your head. I’m not sure at what point I’m Joey and when I’m Silvia these days.
“Three, two, one…” Roger says quietly and I gather my resolve and stride out in front of the audience.
My body and adrenaline take me over to my invisible cue mark on stage. There’s a short white-picket fence prop in the middle of the staged yards, indicating the property line between Chester and Silvia’s homes.
My flower basket is thrown over my forearm and swings as I step up and look down to where Theo –Chester– is kneeling with his back to me.
I pick up the discarded prop weeds, gripping them in my hand tight before throwing them at him.
“If you think I’m going to continue to put up with this crap, you have another thing coming. You need to learn a lesson on manners, Chester. Or at the very least, neighborly love.”
Theo’s head whips behind him and he pins me with his gaze. And then that cocky grin he uses – the one that gets me tingling down in my toes - pops up on his lips.
We’ve practiced this so many times, yet I’m exceptionally nervous right now. Perhaps it’s because we’re doing it in front of an audience, I don’t know. Or maybe because I have all these real emotions swirling around in my heart about him.
Theo’s literally turned my life inside out and upside down.
He stands slowly, brushing off his hands to get the “dirt” off, and stalks toward me. My tummy does somersaults as he stares into my eyes, never losing their connection.
When his toes hit the edge of the picket fence, our faces are inches from each other. His breath fans out across my face and he smells like cinnamon and cloves.
I’m waiting for the line that sets Silvia into a tailspin.
And I wait.
Why isn’t he saying his line?
I try to use mental telepathy to ask, my eyes squinting in question, but he just smiles.
And then he whispers so only I can hear it, “I love you, Joey.”
There’s a hitch in my breath and Theo just winks. What the hell did he just say? Am I hearing things? I look around left and right, and then over his shoulder to the side stage, confusion over what’s going on.
He follows it up with his line. “You, Miss Fancy-pants, wouldn’t know the first thing about neighborly love even if it bit you in the ass.”
I’m supposed to be outraged. Angry. Sexually frustrated.
Yeah, well, that part’s true after a week of no sex with Theo.
But I’m still stunned by what he just said. He cocks his head and eyebrow, waiting for my response. Or Silvia’s response. I don’t know which one right now.
Ack. My head is spinning.
Without my bidding, my hand comes up and slaps him across his stubbled jaw.
His expression is shock because that was unrehearsed.
Oops.
Serves him right for throwing me off my game in the middle of a production.
He just said he loves me and expects me to stay on script?
“How dare you, you insolent bastard! I’ve been more than neighborly since you moved in, thank you very much,” I place my hands on my hips in a haughty stance.
