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Right?
But Enzo meets my gaze and his expression says, “Did you not understand what I meant from my Post-it note?”
He’s got to be kidding. I cannot stand in front of these people and act.
He props up on the easel a sketch of the first scene, and his eyes shoot to me, silently telling me to stand. I slide my chair out from the table, my legs wobbly and shaking, and make my way over to him. He’s totally joking. This is some initiation thing that he and Billy cooked up. No way can he be serious.
But Enzo continues. “The first scene is a couple arguing about family coming to visit. The wife tells her husband how his mother hates her…”
I see the lines I’m supposed to say, but I’m a deer in headlights, staring at Enzo.
All right, it’s time for him to laugh and say he’s just joking. But all he’s doing is widening his eyes, telling me to start.
I clear my throat and place my hands on my non-existent belly. “Here I am ready to pop, and your mom is going to run her finger along every shelf, judging the fact that I don’t dust every day.” My voice shakes, but I get the line out.
Enzo smiles then schools his features. “She loves you.”
“She hates me, and you know it.”
Enzo rolls his eyes just like the husband is supposed to. “What about your dad? He’s always being passive-aggressive with comments like ‘it’s a forest out there’ because I only mow the lawn once a week.”
“He’s joking. That’s what he does.” I rub my belly since the actress is supposed to be resting from cleaning.
Enzo puts up the next card.
God help me, how many are there again?
“Your parents are here. Your dad double parked—again.”
“You know he hates coming to the city,” I say.
“So instead of him finding a parking spot himself, I’m supposed to go out there and drive around for an hour?”
I place my hand on his shoulder as though we’re staring out a window together. My fingertips explode with tingles. The scent of his cologne hits my nostrils, and I suppress a full body shiver. “They’ll be gone in a few hours.”
I glance at the script. I’m supposed to kiss his cheek. Surely, he doesn’t expect me to do that. But Enzo waits, his eyes imploring me. I rise to my tiptoes, my hand on his shoulder, and press my lips to his cheek as quick as can be, then I fall back down to my heels, pretending I didn’t want to leave my lips there longer.
He pretends to walk out the door.
I pick up the next card since I’m closer.
Everyone is seated around a table, so he arranges four chairs at the front of the room, and we sit.
Enzo lowers his voice. “When are you going to move to the suburbs? The city is nowhere to raise a baby.”
Then he moves over as though he’s the husband, and I swallow a laugh.
“We like the city, Sam,” he says in a different voice.
I glance at the card and see it’s my turn to be two different people. “I’m more concerned about the cleanliness of the house with the baby coming. Illness can kill a newborn.”
I slide over and bend at the waist, pretending to use a fork as if I’m eating. “Honey, want to help me in the kitchen?” I stand, rolling my eyes at Enzo, and he flips the next card.
When is this going to be over?
Enzo slides out a chair and I sit in it, dread coating my stomach because of this next scene I’m going to have to act out.
“Push, honey,” he says, and I pretend to be my sister from three weeks ago. “One more.”
