Stranded (2 page)

“Me too,” she said, and they clinked glasses. “I’m to start filming the
Housewives of Massapequa
in a few weeks.” Joyce chuckled and then burped a little. “I never thought I’d do one of those shows, but I’m looking forward to it.” She held up her hand. “I promise not to take the whole thing too seriously.” Kendall sat back down and closed his eyes for a second as he let the bubbling wine slide down his throat. “I’m going to miss dancing with you eight shows a week.” She sipped from her glass. “Do you realize you’re the first partner I’ve had who’s never stepped on my foot or given me bruises on my ankles?”

“You’re kidding,” Kendall said and downed the contents of his glass before pouring another. He topped hers off as well.

“Nope,” she said with a grin. “You remember I was in
Mamma Mia
before this. I came home after each performance with a new bruise. My dance partner always figured my feet were part of the stage.” She took another drink, and Kendall listened. There was still noise coming from outside, but the sounds were diminishing. Joyce finished her glass and then stood up. Kendall did the same and hugged her tight. “I’m going to miss you.”

Kendall nodded. “Please call me and let me know how the show is going.”

“And you be sure to let me know where you land,” Joyce said, heading for the door. “I just know there’s something great waiting just around the corner for you.” They hugged again, and then she left.

“I certainly hope so,” Kendall said to the empty room as a sort of prayer before gathering his things for the last time. He packed up everything he’d kept there for the run of the show. It took two bags but eventually he had it all, and once he was sure he’d left nothing behind, Kendall opened his door and stepped out in the hallway. He walked down to where he knew he’d be able to find the director. The producers were with him.

“Kendall,” the producer who seemed to do all the talking said as he approached. He hadn’t wanted to disturb them by interrupting their conversation. “We’re all sorry about the way things worked out, and both Jerry and I hope to work with you again in the future. You brought life and fun and more depth to Stone than we thought possible.”

“Thank you,” Kendall said, shaking hands with Roger and Jerry before offering his hand to Gregory, the director. He accepted the envelope that would contain a statement of his final payment for the show; the check would go to his agent, Sal. After saying good-bye one more time, Kendall turned and left the theater. As soon as the stage door closed behind him, he turned and looked at it, having the strangest feeling that things were about to change in a big way.

He’d been working in Broadway theater for almost fifteen years, and he was a star. He’d risen from the chorus to small parts to understudy, and then finally to the lead of his first show, which had run for five years. After that, the theater world had been his oyster and he’d been able to pick his roles, just like he’d decided to do the role of Stone. But in this economy there weren’t a lot of roles available, and for the first time, he wasn’t able to move almost immediately from one role to another. Granted, it wasn’t the money he was worried about. He’d lived fairly frugally, knowing that in theater there were ups and downs. He just hadn’t expected the downs to come like this—a smash hit that ended before anyone expected it would.

Kendall took a final look at the nondescript door and then walked toward the sidewalk. The after-theater crowd was still out and about, heading to bars and restaurants before going home. Kendall had done the eating and partying after shows a few times, but his waist and pocketbook had paid the price, so he hadn’t done that in a while. He’d learned his lesson quickly. Thankfully, out of costume, he was rarely recognized, so Kendall headed for the subway station and descended underground.

He caught a train and found a seat. The doors slid closed and the train began to move. Instantly, the weariness from being onstage and active for hours caught up with him. But he didn’t dare close his eyes, not on the subway. He’d made that mistake once, and it had cost him the bag he’d been carrying. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone, and at his stop, he jumped off and walked down the platform to the exit. He climbed the stairs and exited the station before walking down the familiar sidewalk to the west side midtown brownstone he called home. Kendall let himself into the building and climbed the stairs to his second-floor apartment.

“You’re home,” Johnny said as Kendall closed the door. They kissed in greeting, and Kendall dropped his bags on the floor. “How was it?”

“Everything was fine until the second act. Then it seemed to hit everyone that this was the last night. We did a good show, but I think some of the energy was just different. It’s hard to explain, but things were off. Not that the audience knew, but we did.” Kendall knew he should take care of his stuff, but he was tired and didn’t have the energy. Johnny, however, glared at the bags more than once until he picked them up and carried them into the bedroom. “They can wait for now,” Kendall said, hoping Johnny would come sit beside him and commiserate a few minutes.

“I’ll just go ahead and do it,” Johnny said.

Kendall heard him moving around. He should have known Johnny wouldn’t settle until everything was just where he wanted it. The television was on, and Kendall began watching a program about the Ice Age or some crap like that, and soon his eyes closed. He felt Johnny sit down at one point, but he was too tired to move and made no effort to curl next to Johnny. The gesture probably wouldn’t be welcomed anyway.

“Kendall, are you going to fall asleep?”

“Probably,” Kendall muttered.

“Then go to bed,” Johnny said, and Kendall cracked his eyes open. He did notice that Johnny didn’t say “come to bed,” or even offer to take him to bed, the way he used to. Kendall definitely noticed that, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it. He stood up and shuffled into the bathroom. He made sure to clean up well, and brushed his teeth before leaving the bathroom. In the bedroom, he stripped down and got under the covers.

After a few minutes of listening to the muffled sound of the television, Kendall got up and opened the bedroom door. “Johnny, are you coming to bed?” He wanted to be held, to have someone be with him on a night like this. Something he’d worked on for months was over and he didn’t want it to be. He was at loose ends and hurting a bit.

“Not for a while,” Johnny said. Then the light and sound from the television ended as Johnny turned it off. Kendall sighed and returned to bed; the last sounds he heard before falling asleep came from the keyboard as Johnny typed at his computer.

Kendall woke a few hours later. Johnny was snoring softly next to him, and Kendall was a bit cold, so he snuggled up to his partner of almost a decade and closed his eyes again. The warmth, comfort, and contentment from Johnny’s skin against his was just what he needed, but as he was about to fall asleep, Johnny began tossing and turning and then used his weight to roll Kendall back to his side of the bed. Johnny’s warmth then disappeared as he went back to his side of the bed. “I’m cold,” Kendall groused softly.

“Then get a blanket,” Johnny told him, and within seconds the soft snoring began again. Kendall sighed, pushed back the covers, and got out of bed. He went to the small closet, got an extra blanket, and spread it on his half the bed, careful not to put it over Johnny or he’d be too warm. Kendall then got back into bed and closed his eyes. Johnny hadn’t stirred, and Kendall, warm now, drifted back to sleep.

W
HEN
Kendall woke, it took him a few minutes to remember what day it was and that he didn’t need to go into the theater. Sunday—Johnny should be home, and there was no place they should have to go. He heard movement in the living area and slipped out of the bed, then pulled on a pair of old sweatpants and a threadbare T-shirt that was the very definition of comfort. He quietly opened the bedroom door. Johnny sat on the sofa, typing at his computer, an endearing expression of relaxed concentration on his face. Kendall didn’t make a sound and just stood where he was, watching with a smile on his face.

“Are you trying to make me nervous?” Johnny asked, barely looking up.

“I was just watching you,” Kendall said, and he walked to the sofa and sat next to Johnny, then rested his head on his shoulder. “Actually, I was thinking, it’s Sunday and we don’t have anyplace to go. I don’t have to go to the theater, and you don’t have to work, so maybe we can go to the park or just get some coffee somewhere.”

Johnny paused from his work. “I have a lot I need to get done.” Johnny slipped off the glasses he used for close work and set them on the coffee table. “I have a deadline. I promised Lynn that she’d have this manuscript by the end of the week, and she’s counting on me.”

“I know,” Kendall said as Johnny leaned forward once again, picked up his glasses, and went back to work. Slowly Kendall rubbed Johnny’s back. “I just want to spend some time together. I’m always busy, you work a lot, and I thought one day for just the two of us would be nice.”

Johnny sighed as though Kendall had asked him to walk over hot coals with his bare feet, and rather than push it further, Kendall stopped rubbing and shifted to the far end of the sofa. There was no use in asking again, he knew that, so he left the room and went to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, shaved, and then showered before returning to the bedroom to dress. When he was finished, he returned to the living room. Johnny hadn’t moved and was once again immersed in his work. Rather than try to make breakfast and have to listen to more dramatic sighs and the occasional complaint about the noise, Kendall grabbed a jacket and left the apartment, heading for his favorite coffee shop.

Once there, Kendall got in line and waited his turn. He’d ordered his usual chai latte and was sitting at one of the tables, trying to relax, when he heard someone say, “Where’s Johnny?”

He smiled up at Gina and motioned for her to sit down. She lived in the neighborhood, and he’d run into her numerous times over the years, so they’d become friends. “He’s on a deadline, so he’s home working, and I decided to step out for a while to give him some peace.”

Gina squinted at him slightly and then sipped from her cup. “Things aren’t going so well?” she asked, and Kendall nodded in resignation.

“Can’t hide anything from you,” Kendall said.

“Nope. But I figured it was either that or your show closing.” Gina yawned once and then drank some more of her coffee. She worked just down the street at a deli and was most likely on her break. She was Kendall’s age, but had had a much tougher time of it. Young when she’d gotten pregnant, Gina had a fourteen-year-old daughter, Chelsea. Gina worked at the deli on weekends to help make ends meet. It hadn’t been easy for her. Kendall had heard all the stories over the years, just like Gina had heard all the trials and tribulations he’d gone through when he’d been starting his career. “Johnny’s rarely around when you are, and….” She paused. “I remember when the two of you were inseparable and you finished each other’s sentences.”

“We’re going through a tough patch right now. But we’ll be fine. Once he’s through with his manuscript, he can relax, and I’ll have some time until I get another job, so we’ll be able to reconnect,” Kendall said, acting more positive than he felt. The truth was that he wasn’t sure how he felt about his relationship with Johnny. It wasn’t as though there was anything wrong or that they were fighting. They just seemed to be growing apart. Kendall knew some of that had to do with their schedules, which he hoped would even out soon. “I’ve been thinking about seeing if he wanted to take a cruise or something in a few months. Give us a chance to get away.”

“I think you have more than a chance,” Gina said, and then she sipped from her cup. “Johnny’s a nice man, and think about it, both of you have spent how many years building your careers?” She set down her cup, and Kendall paused with his cup near his lips, wondering what her point was. “How many years have you done eight shows a week, mostly in the evenings, with one day off a week?”

“A long time. I did my first show at eighteen,” Kendall said, remembering the small part he’d had. He hadn’t had many lines, but the part required a lot of stage time, and Kendall had had a ball hamming it up in the back of the scenes.

“Exactly, and you met Johnny ten years or so ago. Your entire relationship you’ve had this weird schedule, and now you don’t. But he’s built his life around your weird schedule. He worked full time and wrote in the evenings. Now his books have taken off and he’s come into his own.”

“I know. I see them in the windows of all the bookstores,” Kendall agreed.

“But have you read one of them?” Gina asked. “Other than his first ones, have you read them?” Kendall swallowed and finally shook his head. He hadn’t had the time to read them all. “Then maybe you should start there. You can’t expect him to be all lovey-dovey with you if you aren’t involved in his life.”

“God,” Kendall said. “I didn’t know I was being a real dick.” He gulped his cooling coffee and swallowed hard.

“You haven’t been, just busy. Just like Johnny probably wasn’t at the closing performance last night. You’re both busy, or were busy. But you aren’t now. So if you want things to change, that probably needs to come from you,” Gina said, checking her watch. “I need to get back.” She stood up, and Kendall did as well. They hugged, and then she hurried toward the door. Kendall watched her go and then sat back down and finished his coffee.

On the way back to the apartment, he stopped at Zabar’s and bought some cheese, fresh fruit, and other goodies he knew Johnny liked before walking the four or five blocks back to the brownstone.

Inside, he found Johnny seated in the exact same place, still bent over his computer. He was typing to beat the band, and Kendall knew to make as little noise as possible. If things were flowing, then he didn’t want to interrupt. He put away the groceries and then went into the bedroom, where he scanned their bookshelf for one of Johnny’s books. He plucked out one he hadn’t read, opened the window to let in fresh air, and settled on the bed to read.