Page 43
Story: To the Moon and Back
Carly blinked. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Maybe it won’t be the worst way to die,” Lauren said with a wink.
Carly didn’t know how she’d ended up here. One minute she wasliving in the lap of luxury with fans and friends fawning all over her. Thenext, she was in freezing Minneapolis, of all places, in a historic old theaterwith a woman who now held the strings to her mind, heart, and body.
She wasn’t sure she ever wanted it to end.
* * *
“Where will we pick up our tickets? I want to make sure I leaveplenty of time in case there’s any mix-up, and you know how your dad alwaysputters when I’m trying to get somewhere.”
“I know,” Lauren said.
“That man is a putterer, and it’s not going to ruin my chance tosee my baby on her big night. You’ll need to remind me where the bathrooms are,so I can beat everyone there during intermission.”
Lauren smiled. She had her mom on speakerphone in her dressingroom as she prepped for their second-to-last rehearsal. “The tickets are at thebox office, and there will be no mix-up. Dad is definitely a putterer, but Ihave a feeling you’re going to be able to light a fire under him. The restroomsare clearly marked, but I’ll send directions.”
“Good. That will help. How’s the show going, Boop? I just can’tbelieve this has all happened. I put it on Facebook. Did you see? I hadsixty-seven of thoselikethings, and also some hearts, and your uncle Gregory hitshareon what I said,and now other people can see it who are friends with him.”
“Wow.”
“I was real happy you could share it. I really like that Facebook.”
“Social media is a wondrous thing. It’s going well, I think.”
“You think?”
Lauren sighed. “I second-guess everything I’m doing and sometimesfeel like a total fraud working alongside true professionals, but I haven’tbeen fired yet, so I keep showing up.”
Her mother made atskingnoise. “You’re selling yourself short. You always do that, Ms. Type A. You’retalented, kind, gorgeous, and my daughter. I just can’t wait to see you shine.Uncle Frank is going to look down on this from Heaven with a smile.”
“Thanks, Mama,” Lauren said. “Knock my little brother in the headfor me.”
“How about I just ruffle his hair a little next time he stops byfor spaghetti and garlic bread? Did you know he’s up for junior partner at thefirm?”
“I didn’t. I need to call him.”
“When you have a spare minute, you will. Right now, I’m justvibrating that the tiny being that lived in my tummy is going to perform infront of thousands. My Boop. Do you hear me? Vibrating. You can probably tellthrough the fancy phones they have now.”
“Mom!” she said with a laugh, though it was every bit as surrealto her, too. “We can vibrate together. I’ll see you soon, and don’t worry for asecond about the tickets. I’ve taken care of everything.”
They said their good-byes, and Lauren clicked off the call andsighed. She felt a little better after speaking with her mother, but nerveswere creeping in as opening night approached. There was a knock on her dressingroom door, and a moment later, Carly peeked her head around.
“May I enter?”
“You may.”
“You were so on today,” Carly said, sitting on the arm of thecouch.
“Do you really think so?” Lauren’s stomach tightened in thatuncomfortable way it had been all week.
“I know so.” Carly wore jeans, a purple ribbed top with twobuttons undone, and brown heeled boots. The beautiful color was not lost onLauren who spent just as much time thinking about Carly these days as she didthe play. She always looked forward to their quiet times alone. She’d grown soused to her presence. She tried to imagine her life before Carly. It felt solong ago.
“Here’s the thing,” Carly said. “You’re so precise. I can alwayscount on you to be a reliable scene partner, but you always bring the emotionright along with it.” A small pause. “I’m flipping out a little bit.”
Lauren took in the compliment but moved right past it to Carly’sconfession. “What do you have to flip out about? You’re a professional actress.This is what you live for.”
Carly’s eyes were wider than usual, and she chewed on the insideof her lip nervously. Her fists were balled, and Carly wasn’t someone whoballed her fists. Ever. “No. Not at all. No. This isn’t what I do. I don’t havethousands of people watch me work. Film sets are filled with production crew,yeah, but they’re not there to see me perform. They didn’t pay money. This iswildly different.” She slid off the arm of the couch onto a cushion, in defeat.
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