Engaging Men (36 page)

“So how was the big weekend with Kirk’s family?” she asked.

“Fine,” I said quickly. I don’t know why I lied. Especially to my best friend. Maybe I just wanted to prove to Grace—or to myself—that monogamy could work. “The christening was nice. Cute kid.” Loud kid, I thought, remembering Kimberly’s semifrequent outbursts. “We talked about…things. It was very…stimulating.” To say the least.

“Well, that’s good,” she said, as if she were surprised. “You’ve

gotten over a big hurdle then. Because you never really know someone until you meet their parents.“

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said, horrified at the idea of Kirk somehow morphing into his parents after we were married.

“Sheesh, someone’s a bit touchy. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine!” I said.

But I wasn’t fine, I realized when I woke up the next morning and headed off to the studio. I could barely make it through the routine, my body and mind were so weighted down with unhappiness. An unhappiness that grew into abject fear when Rena called me and Colin into her office afterward and told us that the interested network was Fox and that she was meeting with two of the executives next week to discuss a contract. Colin was ecstatic. So was Kirk when I called him on my way home. Even more so because he himself had just had a call from Norwood—they had reviewed his designs and wanted him to fly in to their head office in Chicago to discuss terms. “This is it, Ange. If we come to an agreement on the terms, I’ll have landed my biggest client yet. They have offices from coast to coast. My software will be all over the country!”

I congratulated him. How could I not? His dreams were about to come true, while mine…mine were about to disappear into the wide blue yonder. As blue as my thick blue tights.

I headed to Lee and Laurie that afternoon with a feeling of doom. Not even the new fall catalogs that had just come in could cheer me up. At least I wouldn’t have to talk with the Committee about my impending contract. I certainly couldn’t let anyone at my day job know that I soon might not be among their ranks. Because if I got this contract with Rise and Shine, I could probably give up Lee and Laurie.That should have made me happy, but it didn’t.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to worry about blurting out my news about Rise and Shine. Because the only thing the Committee cared about was my impending wedding.

“How’d the big weekend at Kirk’s parents go?” Michelle said the moment I stepped into our cubicle area. Doreen and Roberta swung around, eager to hear all the details.

And so I told them that the Stevens family had found me as charming as I had found them. Not a lie, right?

But if it wasn’t a lie, I realized, my life was one. Especially when I found myself shrugging off Kirk’s invitation to his apartment after work. He didn’t mind. He was leaving for Chicago in two days and had lots to do to prepare. So he hung up and, I imagined, immediately went back to his laptop and his happy little life without giving me a second thought.

I guess it was a comfort to realize that at least some things hadn’t changed.

When I entered my dark apartment that night, my feeling of desolation was complete. Especially after I stumbled into the hall, fumbling for the light switch, only to discover that the bulb was out, and without my tall roommate around, I didn’t have a hope of changing it. So I headed into the living room, negotiating around the bag of recyclables and the hordes of newspapers I kept there, hoping to reach one of those six lamps before I fell over something and killed myself, when I saw a shadowy figure standing by the window. I immediately stopped, fear snaking through me as I watched the intruder lean close to the window, as if he were about to steal…Bernadette?

“Ahhh!” I yelled, knowing I should have run instead. Suddenly a light clicked on, and I saw, much to my relief, that it was Justin fondling that damned azalea.

“What is wrong with you?” he said, breathing hard. Apparently I’d scared him, too.

“Me? What the hell are you doing here in the dark?”

“I dunno. It was kinda…soothing.”

Soothing? What was he, crazy? I thought, feeling my heart starting to return to a normal beat. “Why are you home? I thought you weren’t coming back until next week.”

He shrugged, turning his gaze to the window once more. “I came home early.”

“You went all the way to Florida for…two days?”

“I didn’t want to be there anymore.”

“Justin, what happened?” I asked, stepping closer and trying to peer into his face, which he had averted.

“Lauren and I…we kinda broke up.”

“What do you mean? You either broke up or you didn’t—”

“She was there with another guy,” he blurted out. “Bob or Rob or something like that. I showed up at her place, you know, thinking I’d surprise her and all.” He laughed without humor. “Man, was I surprised.”

“Oh, Justin.” I reached for his hand.

“It’s no big deal,” he said. But when he finally looked at me, I saw that it was a big deal. I had never seen those sunny green eyes of his look so sad.

“Come on, sit down,” I said, tugging him toward the couch. “Tell me everything.”

When we were finally sitting on the sofa, me cross-legged and facing his profile as he stared without seeing at the blank TV screen, he said,“There’s nothing to tell. I mean, it’s not like we said we couldn’t see other people…I just thought—” he blew out a breath “—I just thought she wouldn’t want to. I guess I thought things were more…more serious than they were between us, you know?”

I wondered, briefly, how serious they really could have been, when Lauren had spent eighty percent of their relationship living twelve hundred miles away. But since I didn’t want to undermine whatever sadness Justin was feeling over the loss, I kept silent.

“Stupid me. Thinking I could tell someone I loved her and that would be enough.”

It should have been enough, I realized, my heart feeling suddenly heavy in my chest. Wasn’t love the reason why we did crazy things—like order azaleas we didn’t want or take expensive, scary plane rides—to get closer to that someone we had pledged our hearts to? But then, the thought crept in, why did we have to try so damn hard to get closer?

I sighed. “Justin, you know these long-distance relationships are…are difficult.”

“Yeah,” he said, staring off into space once more. Then he looked up at me as a new thought hit. “Hey, how did your weekend with Kirk’s folks go?”

This time I was the one averting my eyes. “It was…it was fine.”

“What happened? You hated them. They fed you raw steaks

and told you horrible stories about how Kirk used to run in his sister’s dresses when he was a kid?“

“No,” I said, almost laughing at how he’d gotten the meat right at least. “I didn’t hate them…” I didn’t like them either, but I supposed I could live with them…if I had to. Gulp. Thank God they lived five hours away. ‘m not so sure they liked me.“

Justin narrowed his eyes at me. “Of course they liked you. Everybody likes you, Ange. You’re smart, funny. Cute as hell,” he continued, ruffling my hair playfully. “Hey, did anyone ever tell you that you look just like Marisa Tomei?” he said, smiling at me as if this was our own private little joke.

I bit my lip. That was starting to sound like a curse. But it didn’t have to be, I realized now as I looked at Justin, those intelligent eyes that always saw into the heart of things, that beautiful face that could sell long-distance services and just about anything else, those strong hands that could find their way around a guitar with grace or handle a camera with skill. He could be anything he wanted.

“Justin, maybe now that Lauren’s out of the picture, you need to get back into your own life. Choose what you want to do next and start working on it. You’re so happy when you have your camera in hand. Or your guitar. I mean, maybe you should finally do that open-mike show you’ve been talking about for so long,” I continued, though in truth, I felt Justin had more of a fighting chance with the film. Still, I knew that he needed to grab on to something to dig himself out of his gloom. And since music was his most current pursuit, I tried to encourage him in it.

“I know, I know,” he said. Then, smiling, he slapped my knee. “I’m gonna do it, Ange. I feel inspired…”

I smiled back at him, but I was worried. I’d heard that phrase one too many times. What, I wondered, would it take to truly lead Justin back to his dreams?

What led me back to mine was the realization that everything I had said to Justin could apply to me as well. Which was probably why I awoke the next morning filled with a sense of purpose. As if I suddenly understood what it was all about. I needed to find my own bliss. And even that realization filled me with a kind of bliss.

I practically skipped all the way to the studio. Not even the stultifying heat as I headed down the subway stairs could get me down. And the lone guitar player pouring out his heart on the platform for the few measly dollars strewn in his case didn’t depress me as it normally would. He was happy, I realized, watching as he strummed and smiled and sang as if his soul depended on it. These are my people, I thought for the second time in two days. What did I need with the Stevenses and their warped view of the world, or even Viveca, with her warped view of me?

I was on the road to happily-ever-after—except I was in the driver’s seat now.

Once I got to the studio, I bounded through the routine like I was on fire. I roared like a lion, sang like a bird (okay, so we were doing the jungle segment, but, still, I was radiant). Even Rena commented that she saw a new energy in me. “Keep it up and those network executives will be banging on our door tomorrow with that contract,” she said.

Ha, I thought as I headed to the dressing area to change into my street clothes. They’ll be banging on my door all right. But I’ll be the one negotiating the terms. And you can be sure they wouldn’t include a yellow leotard or an insurance rider that covered my beleaguered joints.

I bid Colin a cheerful goodbye on my way out. “No breakfast today?” he said.

“Not today, sweetie,” I replied. Today I had things to do. Like pursue my dreams.

I picked up a copy of Backstage on my way home. Then, like I did in the old days when I was pounding the pavement in search of my next great gig, I went to a little Internet cafe I used to frequent back a few blocks from my house on Avenue A. After purchasing the largest cafe latte I could, I settled into one of the worn, overstuffed chairs by the window and began to scan the casting calls.

I’ll admit I grew a bit despondent when I saw ad after ad I could not even reply to, either because it was for a role I was too old for (what was with this glorification of the twenty-year-old, anyway?) or non-union. That was the problem when you joined SAG and AFTRA—you put yourself in a smaller pool of actors that included people like my pal Jennifer Aniston, or even her pal Gwyneth. And I was no Gwyneth. Or Jennifer, for that matter, I thought with a shiver, wondering if I’d tightened that lid right up again with my antics over the weekend.

But wasn’t that why I had joined the unions? Because I thought I was ready to go for those roles that might bring me the successful sitcom or film I dreamed of landing? The ones that actually paid the actors something and, even better, provided health insurance? The ones even Jennifer or Gwyneth might consider.

I continued to scan the lists, sipping my latte for courage. And suddenly my eye caught and held on an ad that seemed as if it had been placed there just for me:

All For Love, award-winning director seeks actress, 25-32 [that’s me!], ethnic okay [I go both ways] for a feature-length film about a woman who sacrifices all for the man she loves [well, I knew a thing or two about that, didn’t I?], to tie shot in Maine in October. [Not Massachusetts, but close enough to fill me with a sense of irony].

Auditions were taking place at the end of the week!

It was a sign. A definite sign. This part had Angela DiFranco, Third-Degree Girlfriend, written all over it. I circled it, and, while I was at it, went through the list of casting directors and agents and picked out a dozen or so that were willing to receive head shots and audition tapes by mail, and circled those, too. After all, I couldn’t put all my hopes on one audition. Just like I couldn’t put all my hopes on one man…

Once I had compiled a considerable list, I headed to the stationery store to pick up my envelopes and resume paper, then went home to get to work. By the time I headed off to Lee and Laurie that afternoon, I had no fewer than ten envelopes to drop into the mail. I’ll admit that I had a touch of fear as I opened the mailbox, worrying over just what fresh rejection this little mailing might result in, but that didn’t stop me. I felt like nothing could stop me now.

I have to say, I was relieved when Kirk left for Chicago, because I somehow didn’t want to share my newfound acting ambition with him. Maybe I was afraid I might jinx myself by saying too much about all the possibilities I saw before me now. Or maybe I was afraid he wouldn’t see them as possibilities, especially when he called me the night before he left to say goodbye and said, “Hey, call me if you hear anything about that contract while I’m gone.”

Uh-huh, I thought. Opening up my book of monologues the moment I got off the phone and settling on a scene that I knew I could do well, I began again, working day and night to make sure I was ready for Friday. In fact, the week flew by so fast, I barely even noticed Kirk was gone. Even Justin shared my enthusiasm, filming me with his digital camera once I felt I’d mastered the monologue, and then sitting down with me to go over it and to see where I could improve. I’ll admit I was still worried about Justin, as he had yet to pick up the reins of his own life. But I realized he might still be in post-Lauren recovery, though he’d barely uttered her name since the night he came home. I guessed that was just how men dealt with things—by not talking about them. I could only hope that maybe my renewed ambition might inspire Justin when he was ready to pursue his own dreams.

I certainly felt inspired. I realized I was finally living again. I knew it from the moment I started practicing monologues ,felt it the first time I stepped in front of the casting director for All For Love. I’ll admit I felt that familiar tremble of fear that had built the whole time I had waited outside the studio for my turn, surrounded by at least sixty other women, each more beautiful than the next. But I swallowed down my fear, breathed deep and spoke my lines, felt the character come alive inside me. The casting agent must have felt it, too, because he even allowed me a cold reading of the script, which he wouldn’t have asked for unless he saw potential. And I was suddenly all potential. I had never felt more alive in all my life.