Curtain Call (8 page)

 

 

A few days before Valentine's Day, as I put the finishing touches on our script, I was interrupted by a frantic knocking at my door.

“Hayley, can you get that?”

Silence. Then more banging.

“Hayley? Come on. Please? I've got to finish this.”

I listened. Had she gone out or something without telling me? With a sigh, I saved my document and shut my laptop. The knocking began again with more intensity as I hurried out of my bedroom.

“I'm coming,” I called.

I opened the door to Harlow and Britney. “Can you watch her?” Harlow asked, the corners of her mouth creased in stress or frustration.

“Um…sure?” I said. “What's up?”

Harlow brushed past me, and set Britney on the sofa along with a hot pink diaper bag. She unzipped the little girl's coat, and said, “The school board walked out of negotiations so the union called a meeting. We might strike. Heck, we'll probably strike. Mom was supposed to watch Britty for me this afternoon, and when she wasn't home in time, I sort of hoped you or Hayley would be home.”

“You could have called,” I said, sitting down on the sofa next to Britney. My niece immediately climbed onto my lap and laid her head on my shoulder. Warmth surged through me as I wrapped my arms around her. “Any instructions?”

Harlow shook her head. “She already had a nap. If I'm not back by five, can you give her some dinner?”

“Sure, like what?”

Harlow blew out a frustrated breath. “I don't know, Hannah, she eats anything. Use your imagination.” She bent over to give Britney a kiss. I could smell her cloyingly heavy perfume. Something lilac-y. She sort of smelled like Josh's grandmother. “Be good for Auntie Hannah, Brit-brit. Mama will be back as soon as I can.”

Britney did a little wave, opening and closing her fist enthusiastically while sing-songing, “Bye-bye.”

When the door shut behind Harlow, Britney stared at it for a moment, like she expected Harlow to pop back in and surprise her. I assumed they played that game a lot. When Harlow didn't reappear, Britney's lip started to quiver and she turned big, watery eyes toward me. This was not an auspicious start to our little babysitting adventure.

“Poor, Britty,” I said in a soft, cooing voice. “You've never been to Auntie Hannah's house, have you? How about I show you around?”

I scooped her up, and we walked slowly through the apartment gazing at pictures and knickknacks. We found a package of frozen cookies and each munched on one as we went into Hayley's room. I set Britney on the bed as I rummaged through Hayley's closet. On the floor, behind myriad piles of shoes, I found a feather boa and a tiara Hayley had gotten on her last birthday.

Placing the tiara precariously on Britney's head, and wrapping the boa around her shoulders, I bowed and said, “Welcome to Auntie Hayley's room, Princess Britney. Do you know what I like to do in here?” Britney shook her head all the while looking up at me with big eyes full of wonder. “Well, let me tell you.” I grabbed the little girl's hands and climbed onto Hayley's bed. We caught our balance and I said, “I love to jump on her bed.”

I held Britney's hands as we bounced up and down. The springs creaked and groaned under my weight. Even though I knew I should be jumping on my own bed, I didn't want to mess it up. And Hayley never made her bed. The covers snaked around our feet as we jumped. Suddenly a shrill screech broke the air, and Britney and I fell as the bed thumped to the floor.

Immediately Britney started to cry. I checked to make sure she wasn't hurt before we climbed off the bed. The end of Hayley's bed sagged. My weight and jumping must have caused the frame to break.
Oops
. If Britney settled down, I could dig out the toolbox and try to fix it. I reasoned that it wouldn't be so hard. I'd seen Dad put them together.

But Britney didn't want to stop crying. The tears poured out of her eyes, soaking my shoulder, as her nose started to run. With a sigh, I headed for the bathroom where I wiped away the snot with a wad of toilet paper. This was not how I had envisioned my afternoon. Thank goodness I didn't have any classes.

Britney's sniffles subsided when we settled down on the sofa. I flipped the TV on and found a kid-friendly show with a singing cat that seemed to be in love with a duck. We vegged out to that for a good half an hour. As the credits rolled, I felt my stomach rumble. Even though it was only four-thirty, I was famished.

“Hey, Britty, want to go get something to eat?” I asked, a plan fast forming in my head.

Britney looked at me with interest. “Me eat?” she asked.

I nodded. “But you have to get your coat on and be good for Auntie Hannah,” I said. “We'll go get milkshakes and French fries.”

With a tip of her head, Britney studied me. As I hustled her into her coat, I couldn't help but think how stinkin' cute she looked. She had thin pigtail braids sticking out from under her hat, and the smattering of freckles on her nose was just visible over the edge of her scarf. Her mischievous blue eyes twinkled up at me. The weather had been cold lately, but the few blocks it would take to walk to Crossroads wouldn't give us frostbite or hypothermia. Besides, Hayley and I hadn't been grocery shopping in over a week, and our refrigerator was woefully empty.

I sent Harlow a quick text letting her know where we were going. I wrapped an extra scarf around Britney, donned my own coat, and slung the diaper bag over my shoulder. Holding a twenty-five pound squirming toddler dressed in full winter gear proved much harder than I had anticipated. By the end of my block I was sweating, and by the middle of the next block I preferred to fall face first into a snowdrift before carrying her any further.

“Hannah! Wait up.”

My heart fluttered oddly in my chest as Josh jogged up to us. “Hey,” I said lamely, trying to shift Britney's weight more comfortably on my hip. “What're you doing here?”

Josh reached out and took Britney from me. She looked up at him and squealed her excitement. “Someone's happy to see me,” Josh said to her, affection lighting his eyes. When he looked back at me, his eyes still held affection, but also a deep sadness. “I was just heading over to Crossroads, and I saw you guys walking.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling oddly disappointed. I wondered if I wanted him to be coming to see me. “That's where we're going.”

“I'll carry Brit for you,” he said as we began walking again.

“Thanks. Harlow had some emergency teacher union meeting, and Mom couldn't babysit or whatever. So Harlow dropped her with me unexpectedly. And we were getting hungry. I have no food, so we are going over to Crossroads to eat,” I said. Immediately I wanted to smack myself for babbling. This was Josh. Why did I feel so…nervous, unsettled?

Josh slanted a grin at me, the corners of his mouth twisting up. “We could all have dinner together. How does that sound, Britty-girl?”

Britney clapped her mittened hands together. “Seems like she's down with that plan,” I said.

“What about you?” Josh said in a tone that suggested he was being purposefully light.

His smile had softened, and he was looking over at me with an intensity that made me shiver in delight. “I…of course I want to have dinner with you,” I said, my voice faltering.

We walked in silence that felt both thick and comfortable. I had so many things on the tip of my tongue that I wanted to share with Josh, like my script and how the process was coming along, but suddenly I wasn't sure what the rules were in our situation.

Josh saved me. “So how's your senior project going?”

“Hmmm? Oh, really good,” I said. “Max and I came up with a fantastic storyline, and I have the first draft almost finished. We have to get it approved in like two weeks. Grandma's going to have a guest spot.”

Josh laughed. “No way! Doing what? Wait, do I want to know?”

“A toned down version of her Sugar Bomb show,” I said with a giggle. “I know it sounds crazy, but we think it'll be just risqué enough without getting us in trouble.”

“So, um, who's starring in this production?” Josh asked.

I shrugged and adjusted the diaper bag on my shoulder. “No idea,” I replied. “We're going to hold open auditions sometime in March. Max wants to see if we can find some undiscovered talent.”

“Open auditions, huh?” Josh said, almost to himself.

Britney pointed to a dog across the street and said, “Doggy moo.”

I laughed. “Doggies don't moo, Britney.”

“Maybe that one does,” Josh said. “Maybe Britney knows something we don't.”

“Sure, the government conspiracy to disguise cows as dogs to infiltrate suburbia with toxic methane gas,” I said.

Josh did his best shifty eyes, and said, “You never know.”

By the time we got to Crossroads, Britney's nose was red, and I couldn't feel my thighs through my ice-cold jeans. The restaurant was already busy, but we found a seat in the back by the awesome racetrack display mounted on the ceiling. Every fifteen minutes or so, five cars raced around the model track. Needless to say the area was a magnet for kids. Britney would be in good company.

After we got her settled in a booster seat, Josh leaned over to her and whispered something that made the little girl laugh in delight. I watched his ease as he interacted with her, and was struck by the thought that someday he would make a really good dad. The thought felt like a bucket of ice water dumped over my heart. I didn't know if I wanted to probe my feelings further right now. Thinking about Josh and kids in the same sentence made me woozy. We were far too young to entertain thoughts of a family, but were we too young to think about marriage? Did Josh even want to think about marriage with me anymore? Where was all this coming from anyway?

The waitress approached our table, and waited while we ordered. “Oh,” Josh called as she walked away. “A slice of tiramisu cheesecake too.”

Our eyes met across the table, and a flood of memories threatened to overwhelm me. Josh had brought me tiramisu cheesecake even before we had started dating. And that cheesecake had made an appearance at every significant event in our relationship.

My mouth went dry and my voice cracked as I asked, “Are we celebrating something?”

Josh reached across the gray-flecked linoleum table, taking my hand in his. His mouth quirked at the side, not quite a smile but more the ghost of one. “We're here together,” he said. “That's enough for me.”

I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, Britney's water crashed to the table sending liquid spreading in every direction. Britney clapped her hands as Josh and I scrambled to mop up the mess with napkins.

We dumped the soggy mess in a clump in the center of the table. “Ew,” I said. “Hey, Britty look.”

The racetrack whirred to life. Britney sat transfixed. Her eyes flickering back and forth as she followed the progress of the cars. She crunched the drink straw in her little hand. Josh grinned. “This is nice,” he said, leaning back in his seat after we had settled.

“What a sweet little girl.” Josh and I turned to an older woman who had paused beside our table. “How old is she?”

“She's two,” I replied, smiling at Britney who was still staring at the racetrack even though the cars had stopped.

“Well, she looks exactly like both of you,” the lady said. “It's so nice to see young families these days.”

The woman patted Josh on the shoulder and moved on before either of us could say anything. Josh looked mildly alarmed, and said, “Hey…”

I pushed a weak smile to my lips. “Don't worry,” I said. “She didn't know.”

Josh opened his mouth, but Britney started banging a spoon against the table drawing his attention. I watched him as he grabbed a bowl of artificial creamers and started to build a pyramid. Britney knocked them down and chortled with glee as Josh laughed too.

“Again!” Britney's demand brought a grin to Josh's face. I wondered when the last time I had seen such a true smile on his face.

Contentment settled over me, and I allowed myself a brief moment of calm without analyzing the constant deluge of emotions. The past few months had left me feeling worn and weary. This moment melted my heart.

Our food came, and Britney grabbed two fistfuls of French fries. She scarfed them down happily while Josh and I poked at our food. The tiramisu cheesecake sat in the middle of the table, tempting me to ignore all the things that had transpired between us and let things just be, at least for the moment.

I set down my hamburger, and picked up a fork. Josh watched as I grabbed a tiny bite of the cheesecake. My moan of appreciation was all it took for Josh to grab a fork and dig in. Britney paused in her quest to munch all the fries in under five minutes, so I gave her a tiny bite. She regarded me with some suspicion then went back to the fries.

When we finished the cheesecake, Josh set down his fork, and said, “You don't seem so mad at me anymore.”

His words sounded hopeful. And my stomach squeezed. “I was never…I mean,” I said, stumbling over my words. “I know none of this is your fault.”

Josh frowned at me. “It's as much my fault as it is yours,” he said. “I don't see how you could take this all on yourself.”

“I have a martyr complex,” I said, trying to lighten my voice, but my tone felt thick and heavy.

“I don't know how you feel about this,” Josh said, “but we need to talk. Like a good long talk. And I know that won't solve everything, but we need to move forward…” He paused. “If we can.”

My throat constricted. The meaning of his words was crystal clear. No matter how much we loved each other, things might be irreparable, especially if we didn't sit down soon and talk. But…I didn't know what to say. The longer Josh and I stayed on this break, the further I got away from s-e-x, the more I was realizing that Josh was only a tiny part of my problem. The biggest part of my problem stared directly back at me in the mirror every day. I couldn't even begin to deal with myself it seemed.