Unforgettable by Linda Barrett (story reading .TXT) 📖

see ever giving it up, so we’ll have that income to depend on.”

She felt his pause. “What about kids, Jen? We’ve never even discussed having a family.”

“Kids?” she asked, totally flabbergasted. “I am so not ready! I barely have enough time to help with my own sisters and brothers! Ask me again later on—like w-a-y later on. In the meantime, you can keep giving birth to new plays.”

His laughter warmed her heart. “That I will, Henny Penny. I certainly will.”

“I’m so glad you had the gumption to come back to Boston…to come home.”

He cupped her face, raised her chin. “How could I not? My heart was here.”

Now she knew that it was true. “I think mine had gone into hiding.”

“Nah…more like hibernation.”

She eyed him, blinked coquettishly and vamped. “Just waiting for my prince to come along and awaken me?”

“Exactly!” He swung her around. “A romantic fairy tale where at least we get a happy ending.”

An idea sprouted. “Doug! Why not write a love story? If you happen to get a good idea, it would show another side of you. And if it were comedic…with a great cast? I’ll bet Broadway audiences would go for it.”

His jaw dropped a little and he nodded, regarding her seriously. “I’ve considered a love story. I’ll let you know.”

“Good. I’m glad I can contribute something to you, even if it’s only a little idea.”

##

After hugs and exclamations of welcome for Liz and Matt. Jen sat down for lunch with her former office buddies. Evan and Alexis completed the group.

“You two look great,” said Jen. “Tell us everything about Kentucky.”

Liz glanced at her fiancé, her cheeks pinking up. “Well…life is good. I’m working again, and you’ll all be invited to a wedding at Christmas time!”

Congratulations echoed around the table.

“So you’ll be back,” said Jen. She reached for her friends’ hands and squeezed them both. “So glad.”

“But that’s where it ends for a while,” said Matt. “Actually, Kentucky’s been great. Different—it takes some getting used to after Boston, but it’s all good.”

“Any new place would take getting used to,” said Alexis.

“That’s what I tell myself,” said Liz. “At least I’m working now. But making friends is taking time, and with no family around, Sunday can be a pretty long day.”

“We’re still newcomers, but we’re looking forward to planting some roots.”

If Jen’s stomach wasn’t already knotted in anticipation of Doug’s play’s opening the next night, it would have formed a big knot then. Planting roots halfway across the country? No family nearby? She pasted a smile on her face.

“You are wonderful people—friendly and smart. I’m sure you’ll be very happy sooner rather than later. But don’t think new friends can replace us!” She leaned forward, and in a stage-whisper added, “You never forget you first love…s.”

With that remark and ensuing laughter, conversation became general, as though the couple had never left town.

“Sorry Doug couldn’t join us for lunch,” said Matt. “He must be busy with last-minute details.”

“And as on-edge as the proverbial cat on a hot tin roof,” said Jen. “We just watched the movie on television last week, and it was powerful.” She gazed around the table. “So I’m staying far away from Doug, at least, until tonight.”

Head nods, remarks of understanding followed, until Liz said, “We are really happy about you and Doug, and we’re dying to see your ring. C’mon, are you wearing it or is it getting fitted or something?”

Slowly, Jen held out her left hand, showing her emerald. “Turns out I love the guy. I’m even getting used to the idea of spending time in New York. It-It’s not that far after all.”

“Whoa-a-a-a!” said Matt. “We...never said it was. “But you? Wow.”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “A leap of faith with the right partner…my mom’s advice.”

She caught the inquiring glances that passed among her friends. “Oh, stop that. My folks are still here.” She patted her chest. “I want what they had.”

“Then you’ll get it,” said Alexis. “I’m guessing you figured out that Doug needs Broadway.”

“He can write anywhere, but…yes. And that reminds me— two producers will be in the audience tomorrow night. They’re the ones who get the backers for a play. So, will you applaud until your hands sting, please?” She took a breath. “I don’t know how Doug does what he does. I don’t know how he puts up with the stress. But I did learn that playwriting is a business. And that part, I understand.”

“Ouch,” said Alexis. “My hands are stinging in advance.”

Jen gave her a thumbs-up. “And we’ve got to get back to work. Oh, I almost forgot.” She reached into her handbag. “Voila. Your tickets. I’ll see you all again tomorrow night.”

##

If Doug’s nerves were not shot before the performance, they were beyond frazzled after intermission, when he noticed a dozen empty seats that had been occupied earlier. So not everyone returned for the second half. Not a good sign. He’d mingled with the crowd in the lobby a little earlier, trying to overhear comments. General chitchat was almost all he got, but reaction to the play seemed good. He laughed at a woman’s warning, “…it’s breaking my heart, but it better have a good ending.”

Not to worry, Ma’am.

Half-a-dozen of his students surrounded him, effusive with compliments. At least they were a distraction. He comforted himself with the knowledge that Alan Silverman had returned. The producer nodded on the way back to his seat. “We’ll talk later.”

Would it be a good talk or bad? The anticipation was like waiting for a test result that would affect the rest of his life. Jen rushed by, bestowed a kiss, and whispered, “I love the story.”

Very unbiased. It meant nothing. He’d told her to stay with their family and friends until afterwards, when they’d either celebrate or pick up the pieces.

What a way to make a living. Throwing himself out there for brutal criticism. Or applause.

He stood in the back of the theater, watching the second half with a critical eye. They’d all worked hard—the actors, director, producer—but he sensed something different from a Broadway production. Something lacking. He took a deep breath and kept watching, while his expectations fell.

To his surprise, the audience’s reaction sustained a curtain call for the cast. A hometown thing? Support for regional theater? And then Jen was at his side, bestowing kisses.

“It was great, Doug. In my humble opinion, your story made the actors look good.”

“I’m not sure...some people didn’t return for the second act.”

“Maybe they got sick or something. Smile! We all enjoyed it.” She nodded at their crowd of family and friends making their way up the aisle. But his eyes were only on Silverman.

“C’mon, my man,” said the producer, “let’s go for a drink.”

“Right after I visit backstage,” said Doug. “They’ll be waiting and wondering. We’ve been working together for months.”

“They did a fine job,” said Silverman. “But make no promises to them.” He paused a moment. “Traditionally, we cast in New York and take the play to a city or two in order to hone it, get the kinks out. Kiddo, you did it ass-backwards.”

“I had my reasons,” said Doug quietly.

Silverman’s gaze passed from Doug to Jen and back. “Don’t blame you a bit. So how about I’ll wait for you here.”

“And I’ll take the gang to our usual watering spot,” said Jen. “I don’t want to be in the way.”

Her quick smile, furrowed brow, and the question in her voice… Oh, she so wanted to stay. With a fond smile, Doug said, “And since when did good manners ever stop you?”

Her eyes popped open wider than dinner plates.

“Like a visit to the doctor, eh?” he said, reaching for her hand. “Hang out, and we’ll catch up with the others later.”

“Not us,” said Mike. “I’m taking Lisa and Emily home. Babies don’t appreciate their moms having late nights.”

Emily approached and hugged Doug. “I bet you got lost in writing that,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

“As they say, Emily, it’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.” He squeezed her hand. “You’re not alone, kiddo.”

“Good.”

He shook Mike’s hand. “I feel lucky you had a bye week and could catch the show.”

“Sometimes things work out. Good job. Touchdown.” Waving, he and Lisa left the theater.

Liz and Matt came closer. “Unfortunately, we have a flight to catch in the morning,” said Liz. “But we’re so glad we came. We loved the play. I laughed and cried. Good luck with it and with…everything.”

“See you at the wedding,” said Jen, waving as they walked out the door.

“How about Alexis and I take your folks to Maguires and meet you there when you’re ready?” asked Evan.

“I’ll go, too,” added Eve.

“Whew, that was fast,” said Doug. “Give me a few minutes with the cast and we’ll head out.”

Ten minutes later, the three started toward the producer’s downtown hotel. “Walking at night is almost as good as a drink in a dark bar,” said Silverman. “Privacy on the street. So tell me what you saw tonight, Doug.”

Strange question. “I’m not sure, to tell the truth. The audience seemed to like it, but…something…” He gestured impatiently. “It sort of didn’t match what I was hearing in my head.”

“Excellent answer,” agreed Silverman. “I’m happy to say that your material was better than the interpretation. And that’s what was off.”

“But the actors worked so hard!” said Jennifer, stopping in mid-stride. “They knew every line.”

“I’m sure they worked hard.”

Doug tugged her hand. “What he’s saying, Jen, is that the actors were not Broadway caliber. And the director didn’t know how to pull more out of them.”

Silverman broke in. “For example, substitute Glenn Close as the older woman. Think what she could bring to that part.”

Doug understood immediately, but his mind was on one track. “So it’s not the script! I couldn’t put my finger on…And when some people didn’t return for the second act…” He closed his eyes, his mind sorting out the numerous rehearsals. “Sorry for the rambling.”

“So what you’re saying is that we have a friendlier audience here who enjoyed it without Glenn Close,” said Jen.

“And who paid a quarter of the price,” said the producer.

Doug sensed Jen standing taller, on alert. “So, what exactly are you saying, Mr. Silverman?”

“I’m saying that I’ll be making a lot of phone calls, and the first one will be to my brother. I’ll also need a copy of the script.”

Doug caught Jen’s glance. In the light of the streetlamp, her eyes shone, the corners of her mouth rose, and he felt her exuberance in the air around them.

“Told you so,” she bragged. “I knew all the time.”

“Right,” he said. “Enjoy the moment, but remember that a writer’s life is a rollercoaster ride.”