Epilogue
Chris
“I’m going to take off. See you at the theater.”
I glance at my watch. The Omega Speedmaster David gave me on the one-year anniversary of our second first kiss. My call time’s not for another hour and a half, and I know the orchestra doesn’t have to be there before I am.
“What’s wrong? You nervous?” I can’t think why he would be. He’s subbed Broadway shows before. Okay, so it’s his first time subbing for the show I’m in, but he’s had the score for weeks and he can play his part blindfolded. I should know. I’ve heard him practicing for hours on the Yamaha Clavinova acoustic piano in the spare room of our apartment on the Upper West Side. My anniversary gift to him.
“No. I, uh, just have some stuff to do before showtime.”
He’s shuffling his feet and avoiding eye contact, two sure signs he’s hiding something. Whatever it is, I fight my instinct to grill him. Things are good between us. I trust him. He’ll tell me what’s going on when he’s ready.
Won’t he?
I shoo away the doubt crows and plant a rough, possessive kiss on his lips. “Okay. See you there.”
He gives me a semireassuring smile and leaves, but I can tell he’s still distracted, off in his own world. I spend the next hour or so doing my pre-show ritual—stretches, vocal warmups, listening to Ricky Martin on my headphones to get me pumped up—and obsessing about whatever it is David’s keeping from me. Then I sling my dance bag over my shoulder and catch a number 3 express train downtown to the theater.
It’s only about twenty minutes from my door to the stage door. I say hello to the handful of castmates huddled around the sign-in sheet, scrawl my initials next to my name, and head for my dressing room.
“Hey, Beak.”
I grimace at the nickname. It’s affectionate when David uses it, a loving reference to my Roman nose, curved like an eagle’s beak. But coming from my dance partner and company bestie, Alyssa, it’s somewhat less charming. Even though I know she doesn’t mean anything by it.
Alyssa’s the one who took me under her wing and showed this Broadway virgin the ins and outs of working on the Great White Way. She has more Broadway credits than anyone else in the ensemble. That’s why she’d gotten the honor of donning the Legacy Robe on opening night. The robe gets handed down from musical to musical, theater to theater, each show adding a decorative panel before passing it on. It’s a tradition for the wearer to circle the stage three times, letting cast members touch it for good luck, then to visit all the dressing rooms to “bless” the production.
I reach out and tweak her ponytail. “I told you. Only David can call me that. One more time and I’ll drop you in the middle of our duet in the second act.”
“You wouldn’t.”
She’s right. I wouldn’t. But it’s fun to tease her. Just like she enjoys needling me. “Fine. I won’t drop you. I’ll just stumble a little when I’ve got you in the press lift.”
She lets that jibe pass without a snappy rejoinder, which isn’t like her. Looks like David isn’t the only one who’s not their usual self today.
“Did my eyes deceive me, or did I just see your fine-ass boyfriend in the green room?”
Speak—or think—of the devil. I swear, I’m half convinced Alyssa’s a mind reader. She’s more accurate thanThe Mentalist. Or that guy onPsych.
A surge of hope—and happiness—rises inside me. Maybe I can talk to him before I go get into costume. Quell the irrational anxiety building in my chest.
I start to head for the stairs that lead to the lounge area where the performers hang out when they’re not on stage, but she stops me with a hand on my arm and a shake of her head.
“Not anymore. He went down to the pit about fifteen minutes ago. Said he wanted to get a feel for the keyboard before they opened the house.”
“Yeah. He’s subbing for Chip tonight.”
Even though I’m disappointed I won’t be able to catch David before the show starts, I can’t stop my chin from lifting with pride. He’s worked hard to build a reputation and establish relationships with the Broadway musicians. And it’s paying off. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s offered a permanent position in a pit orchestra before the year’s out. I just hope it’s here, with my show. There’s nothing I’d like better than having him work with me, dancing for him every night.
“Ooh, it’s his first time with us, right?” I nod, and she rubs her hands together. “He must be excited.”
I shrug and look down at the tips of my Stan Smiths. “I guess so.”
“What do you mean, ‘I guess so?’”
“I don’t know. He’s been acting kind of weird all day.”
Alyssa wrinkles her nose, drawing her brows together and creasing her forehead with worry lines. “Like, weird how?”
