The Final Act (2 page)

“I can’t get my stuff until after work today, so it’ll be late.” He stepped around a melting ice cream cone on the pavement.

“That’s okay. I’m really sorry. I know I said you could crash at my place as long as you needed, but you know I can’t turn down a renter.”

“I understand. Thanks for letting me stay as long as you did.”

“Where will you go? Is there someone you can…?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll ask Jeff. Gotta go. I’ll see you later.” Michael hung up, feeling like he’d been sucker-punched.

“I’m going to be officially fucking homeless,” he said under his breath. He already had the muttering down. A shopping cart couldn’t be far behind.

He punched Jeff’s number into the phone. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

“Writing.” Jeff sounded distracted. He hated being interrupted when he was working. “The new show.”

“I’ll keep it short then. I know your place is small, but can I crash for a night or two?” Small was putting it politely. Jeff claimed the minimalist space of his one room made it easier to work. With the neighbors’ shouts coming directly through the wall, Michael didn’t see how that was possible, but maybe their arguments inspired scenes in Jeff’s play.

In the long silence that followed, Michael was able to walk most of the length of a block. Annoyance flickered in him. He wouldn’t be in such deep financial shit if he hadn’t given Jeff money to help produce his flop last summer. Michael’s jaw tightened as he bit back the reminder that his friend owed him.

“I guess,” Jeff finally replied, “but I don’t know how all your stuff is going to fit in here.”

“I’ll find somewhere to store my things. I just need a place to sleep.”

There was another long pause. “Of course I don’t mind, but why don’t you call your parents? I mean, it seems like things are getting pretty desperate and—”

“You know what? Never mind. I’m sure Sylvia will let me stay one more night and I’ll find something else after that. Forget it.” Michael flipped the phone shut and gripped it tight. Damn self-involved Jeff saw only how things impacted him. But he was like family—you could be mad at him for a time, but ultimately you couldn’t get rid of him.

Michael resumed walking. With only minutes to make three more blocks to the restaurant, he broke into a jog.

His phone rang again. Jeff might have a lot of bad qualities, but he never intended to piss anybody off and couldn’t stand for someone to be mad at him. Michael smiled as he answered. “Hey, Jeff.”

“Michael.”

His smile disappeared as he slowed to a walk again. “Mom. Uh, hi.”

“I haven’t heard from you in so long. How are you?” As always, she sounded like she really didn’t have time to listen to the answer.

“Great.”

“That’s good. We worry about you. Your father’s birthday is coming up and we’re having a party. I want you to come out to the beach house next weekend.”

“He wants me there?”

“Of course! It’s his sixtieth birthday, Michael. All our relatives and friends will be there and they’ll expect to see you. You need to put your issues aside.”

Michael wondered how he was supposed to swing a trip to the Hamptons when he couldn’t even buy his next meal. He knew his requested presence was only for show. Trust Mom to put on a good face for people.

“If you need money—”

“No. I’m good. But I’m really busy right now. I don’t know if I can take the time.”

“Your father is sorry, Michael. Really.”

“I haven’t heard it from him.” And he doubted he ever would. “If
you
want to get together with me, that’s fine; come into the city and I’ll meet you someplace. But you can’t fix things between Dad and me.”

“Letting things fester is so unhealthy for both of you. One of you has to make the first move.” Her impatience showed in her crisp tone.

I’d rather cut my arm off and feed it to a shark.
“Mother, he told me I was a fucking disappointment and to get out of his sight. I’d say the ball’s in his court now.”

“What will everyone think if you’re not there?” Her voice rose in frustration. “Won’t you please do this for me?”

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it. I have to go now.”

He hung up, then ran the last block to the restaurant, entering through the kitchen door that opened onto the alley.

The head of kitchen staff was waiting for him. “You’re late.”

“Sorry.” Michael walked past him toward the dishwashing machine. He tied on an apron and began to load the tray.

“I told you if you were late again—”

“Only ten minutes.”

“—you’d be out of here.”

Michael ignored him and scraped plates into the garbage.

His boss ran on for a few more minutes before returning to the food prep area to harass the prep cooks.

Michael slammed the tray of dirty dishes into the machine and pushed the button. He faced the next stack of plates. On the top one was an almost untouched chicken breast in wine sauce. After glancing around the kitchen, he grabbed a fork and wolfed down the meat. Although barely lukewarm, it was delicious.

He felt a hundred percent better with the edge off his hunger. He loaded a tray of glasses then leaned against the counter, arms folded, waiting for the machine to run its cycle.

The audition really had gone well today. That Elise girl was a pretty good actress and had a beautiful voice. Not to mention she was a hot Latina, with a pair of amazing big, brown eyes, tan skin and shiny black hair. It was really easy working with her, and kissing her had been a pleasure. What the hell was her last name again? Marquez?

The buzzer went off. Michael opened the back end of the dishwasher and pulled out the steaming plates. It was stupid to think about the audition and spin daydreams about the future. They’d never come true before. If he didn’t put any hopes into it, maybe this time something good would finally happen.

For the moment he needed to figure out where he was going to sleep tonight.

Gretchen carried the last load of her stuff up to the apartment. She was sweating from climbing up and down the stairs a dozen times. Living on the fourth floor of a building with a broken elevator was going to be a daily aerobic workout, which was exactly what she needed to keep in shape. Sitting at a desk in her uncle’s car dealership every day, she’d begun to pack on a few pounds.

Everything was falling into place perfectly. She’d moved to New York and immediately found a place to live and a job in a department store with hours flexible enough to work around auditions.

Her very first audition had gone amazingly well. She just knew she was going to make the road company of
Transitions
, felt it in her bones. In fact, she might not need this apartment or the sales job if she was going on a national tour. All because she’d taken a chance and left Ohio.

Gretchen stumbled through the doorway into the apartment and plunked down the heavy box overflowing with odds and end.

Sylvia stood in the middle of the apartment, staring at Gretchen’s pile of boxes.

“Don’t worry. I’ll have them put away in a second. Trust me. I’m easy to live with. You won’t even know I’m here.”

“Did you say you went to the
Transitions
auditions?” Sylvia asked as she walked around the boxes and headed into the kitchenette. “I have a friend who tried out for a role. His name’s Michael Lucas. As a matter of fact, he was staying here until yesterday. Did you happen to meet him at auditions?”

“I don’t know. There were so many people.”

Sylvia came back into the room with a bottle of water in hand. “Medium height, sandy hair, blue eyes that could stop you in your tracks, and his voice is amazing.”

“I don’t think I read with him. I’d remember someone like that. You were living with him?”

“Not
living
living. He’s just a friend.”

“But you’d like him to be something more?” Gretchen guessed.

“No. I’m gay.”

“Oh!”

Sylvia’s face grew still. “That isn’t going to be a problem for you, is it?”

“No. Not at all. I’m sorry. I’ve just never known a gay person before, at least not that I was aware of.” Gretchen laughed. “I wasn’t kidding when I told you I came from a little hick town.”

Sylvia smiled. “Welcome to the big city, roomie.” She set her water bottle on the coffee table and picked up a box.

“I’ll help you carry your stuff into your room. This quilt is beautiful, by the way.” A wedding ring quilt wrapped in plastic was at the top of the box Sylvia carried.

“My great-grandmother sewed that as part of my grandmother’s wedding trousseau. Grandma left it to me when she died. It
is
beautiful. I forget to really appreciate it.”

“Wedding trousseau? You must come from a really traditional family.”

“Yeah. Big, too. Lots of aunts, uncles and cousins.” Gretchen rolled her suitcase into the bedroom.

“What did they think of you moving to New York?”

“Not happy. They think I’m too young to know what I’m doing.”

“How old are you?” Sylvia set the box with the quilt on the floor.

“Twenty-one and never been out of Chesterton. I earned an Associate’s degree in business at community college and worked at my uncle’s car dealership after that. Since he never had kids of his own, he wanted me to take over someday. Then one night I had…I guess you’d call it an epiphany.”

She plopped on the bed and Sylvia sat beside her.

“I went with a friend to see a production of
Wicked
in Cleveland, and in the middle of the show it happened. I realized the happiest I’d ever been was when I was onstage in high school plays. I watched the show and thought,
why not me
? Why shouldn’t I do something that really makes me happy? The next morning I started planning my escape. A month later—here I am.”

Sylvia’s eyes opened wide. “You’re kidding me? You moved here on a whim?”

“Not a whim. I was inspired.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re getting into? Some of my friends have been trying for years to break into show business and gotten nowhere.”

Gretchen nodded. “Believe me, I know the statistics and I’ve heard all the arguments. Every relative I’ve got tried to convince me not to go, but I have to at least try it. I’m giving myself a year. If I haven’t gotten work by then, even some way-off-Broadway show or a commercial, I’ll call it quits.”

“Just like that? Flip a switch and go back home? Honey, theater’s a drug that gets into your system. Sometimes you get sucked in and can’t stop. My last girlfriend was an audition junky.” Sylvia laughed sharply. “Ironically, it was when she hit it big that it ruined us as a couple. She lives in L.A. now.”

“I’m sorry.”

Sylvia rose. “Well, if love’s worthwhile, it should be able to survive a test or two, right?” She headed into the living room to get another box.

Gretchen stood and walked to the small, grimy window facing the brick wall across the alley. It was going to take some getting used to, being boxed up like this. Everything about the noise and bustle of the city would take some acclimation, but she knew she could do it. She was full of energy and ambition and she
would
succeed.

Her phone rang. She located her purse in the maze of boxes. “Hello?”

“Gretchen Hamilton?”

“Yes.”

“This is Carrie McGuire, Phil Pender’s production assistant. Phil liked your work and wants to see you again. Can you make it to an audition tomorrow night?”

Gretchen’s throat was so tight she could hardly answer. “Yes. Of course. Thank you!” She hung up and let out a scream that brought Sylvia running from the other room.

“Is it a mouse? Don’t worry. They’ll stay out of your way. Just try to ignore them.”

“I got it! The call! They want me to read again for the ingénue role. I can’t believe it!” She whirled around the room, pumping her fist in the air. “Yes!”

Sylvia shook her head. “My God, I can’t believe it. You are one lucky bitch.”

Too excited to contain herself, Gretchen threw her arms around her new roommate and hugged her. Here she was in New York less than a week and close to being cast in the first touring company of one of the biggest shows currently running on Broadway. Who said dreams didn’t come true?

Denny gripped Tom’s hips, slippery with sweat, and thrust deeper into his ass. The muscular walls of his lover’s tight channel clenched around his straining cock, urging him toward release. Grunting rhythmically, Denny drove in and out faster.

Tom thrust back toward him while pumping his own cock in his fist. Suddenly he froze and cried out.

The sound set Denny off. His balls contracted as his cock pulsed. Ecstasy surged through him. “Christ, Tom!”

When the last wave of pleasure had shuddered through him, Tom slid from his hands and knees to his belly, sprawling across the bed.

Denny collapsed on his lover’s hot body, covering him like a blanket. He blew aside strands of Tom’s dark hair and nuzzled the back of his neck.

“God, you feel so good. I’m going to miss you so much.”

Tom’s deep voice was muffled by the pillow. “Me, too. I’m happy for you. It’s the break you’ve been waiting for, but it’s going to be a long time apart.”

Denny imagined the months ahead, living without Tom’s quirky sense of humor and his warm body in bed at night. “I’ll call all the time and we can talk online.”

“It’ll be like old times.” Tom grinned. “Like how we met.”

Denny kissed his shoulder. “
Tomcat
. How clever was that?”

“No worse than
Ace-in-the-hole
. Who picks a screen name that’s, like, twenty characters long and so dumb?”

Laughing, Denny rolled off of Tom and onto his own side of the bed. Funny how that happened over time, one side of a bed belonging to a person. He stared at the ceiling and his smile disappeared as he realized he would gaze at a hundred anonymous hotel ceilings before he slept with his boyfriend again.

Tom rested a hand on Denny’s chest, threading his fingers through chest hair and tugging lightly. “Hey, don’t worry. We’ll make it through this. A little over a year isn’t so long. Definitely do-able.”

Denny turned his head on the pillow and took a mental snapshot of Tom’s face: the crook in his nose, his dark, stubbled jaw, the thick eyebrows over sparkling black eyes. He touched the curve of Tom’s cheek. “I love you.”