Page 70 of Lucky 22

It’s a lie. All the male actors make changes and suggestionsall the time, and none of them gets called into the office for it.

I go to comment, but Aaron holds up a hand to stop me, hishuff of annoyance a clear sign that he’s done listening.

“Bottom line is,” Aaron says firmly, “you’re holding upproduction. We still have several episodes to go to wrap up the season, andwe’re done with your distractions. You’re fired.”

For a moment, I only stare at them, unsure whether I should laugh,be angry, relieved, or try to convince them to change their minds. The decisionis made for me when they turn and start talking to each other as if I’m nolonger in the room.

And with that, I leave.

Everyone on the set, from the other actors to craftservices, heard me getting called to the office, and I swear everyone’s stillstanding around waiting to know the outcome. But I walk with purpose back to mydressing room, pack up my belongings, and head out to my car. Naturally, by thetime I get there, someone’s waiting to take my security badge, so I can’t getback onto the lot tomorrow.

I hand it over with a smile.

As I get into my rental car, I realize I’m still shaking. Igrip the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles turn white, and I can’t see athing in front of me because tears are waiting to fall.

So, I let them.

Only…I’m not sure why I’m crying. I’m not sad about gettingfired. It’s genuinely for the best. But I know I’m disappointed that it came tothis. That I was essentially forced—no, bullied—out of a job.

Oh, how I hate bullies.

I want to yell, scream, and cry at the unfairness of it all.I don’t understand why people are the way they are or why they do the thingsthey do. All I wanted was to do the best job and make the show better. Make itsomething I could be proud of. And where did it get me? Nowhere.

Swallowing hard, I shake my head before wiping away mytears. This is not the way I want anyone to see me or how I want them toremember me. So, I give myself a few minutes to calm down. When I finally pullaway from the lot, I realize I’m not just leaving a sound stage, I’m leavingthe dream of this show being my big break.

Now, it’s over.

I want to call Christian, but I know he’s at the stadiumright now. I’ll have to wait until our call later tonight to tell him what wentdown today. He’s deep in baseball mode, and I hate the thought of burdening himwith this. He’s spent so much of his life hyper-focused on his game and career,I’m not sure how he’ll handle having to worry about someone else.

Even if that someone is me.

I want to call my mom, but I know I’ll turn into ablubbering mess and shouldn’t be driving when that happens. She’ll try to tellme how it’s all for the best, and that something amazing will come along, butright now, I know I won’t believe her.

Even though she’s usually right.

And I want to call Jen and let her know that I’ll be comingback sooner rather than later. I need to decide whether to go to LA or St.Louis first. I have to let my agent know what happened and have her startlooking for roles and auditions.

Suddenly, my to-do list is a mile long, and I’m overwhelmedall over again.

But I push it all aside as I drive to the hotel. I turn onthe radio and find something upbeat to sing along to. The universe must know mypain because my favorite song, “The Middle” by Jimmy EatWorld, comes on, and I take my first calm breath since things went sidewaysearlier.

There’s a slight shift in my mood, and as I start singing, Ibelieve in the words.

I sing like no one could hear me, because no one could,letting the words push the ache out of my chest. It is a reminder I cling toevery time things fall apart: that it takes time, that being stuck doesn’t meanbeing finished, and that somehow, things will straighten themselves out.

I’m not fully there yet, but I know this role, this TV showisn’t the end for me. Leaving Workin’for Laughs is just a temporary speed bump. I’m going to bounce back fromthis, and even without hearing it directly from my mom, I know in my heart thatsomething else will come along.

So, I sing loudly as I maneuver through the Atlanta traffic,thankful for everything I have instead of focusing on the loss.

Because, as the song says, everything’ll be all right.

I end up going to St. Louis first because I feel likeI need the time with Christian more than anything else. My agent is lining somethings up for me, so I know my career is being handled, and having time with myhusband is what matters most.

I want us to have time to live like a married couple. Andreally, the timing is perfect because Easter is next weekend, and I want us tostart making our own traditions.

Although I’m not quite sure how that will go since theArchers have a game on Easter Sunday. Still, I’m hoping we can go to brunchbefore Christian has to leave for the stadium. It’ll be fine. We’ll betogether, and that’s all I want.

Well, that and a normal life where we’re together more thanwe’re apart.