Chapter Twenty-Seven

Leah climbed the porch stairs. A headache made her neck hurt and the pulse behind her left eye twitch. She intended to lie in the dark until Adam woke her for show time. The very bad day of Leah Fisher, Lesbian Daughter, Infamous Actress was...

She heard singing coming from the living room as she opened the door. A woman singing.

...Just beginning. She walked in on Sophia standing by the piano, singing "Think of Me," while Adam played. Her voice was beautifully operatic, soprano, and controlled.

In that moment, seeing Sophia in her spot, singing with her friend, Leah hated her. She blinked. Her eyes blurred with rage. She asked, "What the hell?"

Sophia turned and smiled at her and the happy radiance virtually burned. Leah rubbed her arms, chafing under Sophia's pleasure at seeing her. "What's going on?" She asked.

"I'm trying her out on a few things," Adam said. He half-turned in her direction, but his expression was open. He hadn't noticed her jealousy.

But Sophia had. Her face fell. She said nothing, didn't move from the spot.

"For what show?" Leah asked.

"No show. Just, you know, seeing what she has. I'd like to help her."

Leah fled upstairs.

The piano music resumed.

Adam came up an hour later, after Leah had stopped crying. She still felt indulgently childish, and was ready to fight, ready to yell at him for taking what was hers, and to yell at Sophia for the same thing.

"She's good," Adam said, leaning in the doorway.

Leah thought of Sophia on stage, of the few lines she'd heard of song in the afternoon, and was soothed by the beauty in her mind. "Of course she's good."

"So are you," he said. He came and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Am I better?"

"You're completely different. You'll never compete for the same roles."

It wasn't a direct answer, but she understood it as truth, and it made her feel less terrified.

"She'll be by tonight." Adam said. "Unless you tell me to tell her differently."

"What, are we in grade school?"

Adam tilted his head.

She scowled. She knew she was acting five. He didn't have to remind her. "I'd rather see her in my dressing room."

"Wearing nothing but a little red bow?"

She smiled.

He patted her leg."How was lunch with your parents?"

"This is the very bad day of Leah Fisher," she said, covering her face with her hands.

"Hey, come on. It's not that bad. Did you read the review they gave me of Poe?"

"That's true." She frowned and uncovered one eye. "I'm sorry, Adam."

Adam nodded.

"Your day totally sucks worse than mine."

"Nah. You still have to go on tonight. I can eat Cheetos."

"You wouldn't."

"From the front row. Where you can hear them. Crunch, crunch," he said.

"Adam."

"Where you can smell them."

She sighed." I'm sorry."

"I know."

Now she felt worse than before. She was ashamed of herself and couldn't look at Adam any more. She stared at the ceiling and tried not to cry, because that would give her another headache. "Am I going to lose her?"

He leaned over and kissed her forehead, and said, "Not to me."

She closed her eyes.

He got off the bed, and said, "See you at six."

The show must go on.

Anger made Leah a better singer. She didn't care if her voice cracked. But it didn't. She belted her loud notes and her quiet notes held an intensity that vibrated through her. Ward performed exactly as he had the first night, unresponsive to her extra petulance, as tender as before when she finally let him hold her.

When she rejected him at the fifteen minute mark in act one, she wept, because it was a horrible thing to abandon someone. When she coughed up blood, she wanted to apologize for the anguished look in his eyes. He dabbed at her cheek. She reminded herself it wasn't real. Just acting. In real life they couldn't stand each other. Right? Ward began to sing.

The applause was deafening. Ward squeezed her hand. They bowed together, and then each alone. No music, no fanfare. She went backstage to her dressing room. Adam had instructed her to get back out to the lobby as quickly as she could, to meet potential backers who could take the show Off Broadway.

The door partially open, her name taped to the paint angled, and she pushed it the rest of the way open to find Sophia sitting on the arm of the couch.

"I couldn't find a bow," Sophia said.

"You don't need a bow."

Sophia tilted her head.

Leah closed the door, and went and put her hands on Sophia's shoulders. "I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?"

Sophia's voice had a lightness almost felt sarcastic, but she wore a half-smile. Hopeful. Her hand covered Leah's. Maybe Leah was being tested; evaluated on a scale of tenderness to idiocy.

She wanted to prove to Sophia she was not an ass, and absolve herself of the shame she'd felt later in her bedroom. She said, "I should have stayed to hear you sing. Adam said you were beautiful."

Sophia's smile got brighter.

Leah cupped her neck. Sophia leaned into her touch. "I think my whole family uses insulting humor to cope with life."

"Yeah?"

"Even my father. Just by being above it all, he's condemning the rest of us. Just a little snide," Leah said.

"And you're daddy's girl?"

"Always. My parents like to set my sister and I against each other, to have their fights for them."

"Today?" Sophia asked, her eyes drifting shut as Leah's thumb traced her jaw.

"My sister said me being gay was the universe punishing me with bad karma. Or something."

"But..." Sophia swallowed as Leah's fingers brushed the curve of her ear. "You get to date me."

"That was pretty much my father's opinion."

Sophia took Leah's wrist and brought it to her lips to kiss.

Leah asked, "Your place or mine?"

Sophia tilted her head back and regarded Leah. "What, no party?"

"Nope. I just have to meet some backers, and then go back to my ordinary, non-partying life."

"Thank God."

Leah pulled back and went to the makeup chair to wash her face. "Where are you from?"

"Florida?"

Leah could tell by Sophia's expression, reflected in the mirror, that Sophia had no idea why she was laughing so hard.

"Where will you go?" Leah asked.

Sophia shifted. Her cheek pressed against Leah's belly, below her breasts, and Leah could only see the corner of one eye. "Miami, first, for a week. After I have an audition on Thursday in Jacksonville. They might want me to join the tour of Reckless."

"Are you reckless?" Leah asked.

"That's going to get old fast."

Leah stroked Sophia's hair. "Then what?"

"Where are you going?" Sophia asked, instead of answering.

"New York."

"Do you miss it?"

"Every moment," Leah said, surprising herself. "I wanted to get away. I guess this is why."

Sophia turned her head and kissed Leah's skin.

"I can't believe after all that rehearsal time, the show's over in a week," Leah said.

"Everything is fleeting," Sophia said.

"Tell that to the Venus di Milo."

"And what is she, when her jewelry has been stolen and her paint faded away?"

"Fucking beautiful," Leah said.

Sophia laughed, and then dragged herself up Leah's body to kiss her.

Every time they made love that night, Leah wondered if it would be the last time.

Sophia went to Jacksonville. Leah moped. She spent her days in the house, lying in bed, playing the piano, and eating ice cream late into the night with Adam after the performances. She was wan and emotionless in daylight, and at eight o'clock each night she exploded on stage, working through her grief, taking it out on Ward.

He had his own demons to deal with; He was no longer sleeping at the house, and Adam didn't mention him during their late-night chats. One night, Leah turned her back on him on stage, and he left marks on her arm when he pulled her back. Two nights later, she slapped his face, unscripted, improvised, and Adam gasped loudest of anyone in the audience.

Ward bit her ear. They tussled. They sang. She lost her voice on Friday, and spent the whole performance whispering her words into her microphone when she didn't have to sing. Ward softened his voice to match, and though neither of them cried, singing to each other, pale and tired of it all and wishing they were somewhere else, Leah felt whole at the end, with Ward's hand in hers as they took their bows.

Adam burst into her dressing room, and said, "Leave the makeup on."

"And the wig?" she asked.

"Please?"

"Adam."

"It's Girl Scouts. They won't know who you are without the makeup."

"Adam."

He narrowed his eyes.

She sighed. It was probably true. She went and signed autographs and cringed only inwardly when the dumber girls called her Virginia and the smarter girls complained about Ward's bleach-blond hair. She'd heard "Quoth the raven" too much in that week and never wanted to hear it again.

"I'm not doing this Off-Broadway," she told Adam as he passed her a glass of champagne. People filed out of the lobby, some lingering to look at the production shots or read the bad review Adam had placed behind a glass panel.

"What? Why not?" Adam asked.

"Because I dream at night of the word 'Nevermore,' ringing in my ears."

Adam smiled.

"It's annoying. What do you dream of?"

He looked wistful.

She took pity on him and said, "Let's go home."

They walked along the sidewalk together. She wore her garb, promising Loretta she wouldn't ruin the fabric or lose her wig.

"Do you miss Ward?" she asked.

"Not really, but kind of," he said.

"Adam, you're a playwright. Please try," she said.

Adam grinned. "I miss having someone warm and hard to go home with. But...did it have to be him?"

She nodded.

"I'll get over it," Adam said, and sighed. "Eventually. Man, that man was talented. Like a male version of you."

"Please don't tell me that's why you slept with him," Leah said.

"No."

"Or that I'm an ass."

Adam took her elbow and leaned into her and said, "You're kind of an ass."

"Oh, you silver-tongued charmer," she cooed.

"Do you miss Sophia?"

"Um."

Adam frowned, and asked, "Do you have her hiding in your closet?"

"No, no. We just talk every morning."

"Not at night?"

"Well, it's late. She who does not have a play does not stay up until two in the morning to talk to me," Leah said.

"Oh, it'll never work."

"Unless she gets a play."

"Or that," Adam said.

She nodded. A breeze rustled the leaves of the ancient oak trees they passed. She inhaled. She'd miss the night here, the walks, the peace and quiet of one car passing in the distance, and not hundreds. No one ever honked their horns.

"So, how's the phone sex?" Adam asked, breaking the stillness.

"Adam!"

He looked innocently at her.

She exhaled, and said, "It's fantastic."

He wrapped his arm around her as they climbed the porch stairs together. She unlocked the door. He asked, "Who knew you getting laid would make you a moodier actress than ever?"

"Shut up."

"See?"

The last performance was no more unique than the first or the fourth, except the dialogue was getting stale and Ward was getting hoarse and sweated all over her. The crowd had thinned for the last three nights, but for the last performance, all the schools with theater programs came out. Leah looked into their young, aspiring faces, thought of the crew backstage who went to UNC all day and then hammered things and dressed her at night, and tried not to miss her next line.

Then she survived the cast party and went home and fell asleep, and since no one called, and Sophia was on a plane somewhere else, she didn't wake up until nearly eleven. Adam was in his bedroom, packing.

"We're seriously flying out tonight?" she asked.

"Seriously," he said.

"We rehearsed for weeks, did the show...shouldn't we, I don't know, ease out of things? The way we eased in?"

"Maybe, but it's over, Leah."

She sat on the bed and watched him fold his shirts.

"Don't you want to go home?" he asked.

She did. The thought of New York filled her mind and her mouth actually watered. She couldn't wait to be home. "I'm going to pack."

The plane was at the gate and Leah was wondering why there wasn't more security at the tiny RDU airport when Sophia called.

"How's Florida?" Leah asked.

"Remind me why I came back to see my family."

"Oh, please don't do that. I'm about to go see mine."

Sophia chuckled quietly against the receiver.

"We're boarding in a few minutes," Leah said.

"New York, New York," Sophia sang. And then she said, "I got a call from my agent about Reckless. I didn't get the part."

"I'm sorry," Leah said. Her heart sank with the sadness in Sophia's voice. "I know you're good enough."

"Sure. Just not what they're looking for."

"Well, you're what I'm looking for," Leah said, and then blushed with the inanity of her mouth.

"I hope so," Sophia said. Her voice was more serious than flirtatious, and Leah pressed her ear against the phone. Sophia continued, "I think I know where I'm going next. I want to take advantage of the real contacts I've made...to use my friends. It's a gamble, but..."

"But?" Leah's heart beat in her chest so hard that it pushed out almost all sound and oxygen. She scarcely dared to hope.

"But it's New York. It's the theater capital of the world."

"And if you fail, you can always play a corpse on Law and Order."

"I won't fail," Sophia said, "If you'll have me. Help me?"

Leah imagined herself asking something like that of Adam. She wouldn't have had the strength to ask outright. And he loved her. Sophia..."I'll help you," she said.

She didn't wonder, "Help you do what? Step over me?" She only thought of the fun they could have on a dozen different stages, of all the things she wanted to show Sophia in New York.

Leah said, "Yes. Come to New York. Come home."

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 681