Elizabeth the First Wife (21 page)

“Yes, of course. Come. Let's get all our stuff. We'll go straight to the theater after lunch, right?” It occurred to me that I could use Maddie at lunch. My stomach had been a little warm and gooey when I spent time alone with FX. Having a chaperone would take
any edge off our conversation.

“Okay, sure. But, I have to tell you something. …” She looked really worried.

Oh no, less than seventy-two hours into our big adventure and something had gone horribly wrong. Had she talked to a reporter? Given the barista FX's cell number? Had Puck's parents called?

“I'm a vegetarian,” she confessed.

Relief.

“Thank God. I thought the
National Enquirer
was going to be outside. Since when are you a vegetarian?” I asked, recalling her scarfing down an In-N-Out Burger on the drive up.

“Since yesterday. You know, since my dad gets a lot of support from Big Ag, I have to eat meat at home. But starting yesterday, I'm a vegetarian. I'll tell him when I get home in August. I'm working up to it, but I thought you should know.”

“Thank you. FX, do you have any issues with vegetarians?” I asked with mock seriousness.

“Some of my best friends are vegetarians.”

At the brew pub we tucked into a booth and ordered a round of iced teas and various meals, with and without meat. FX considered a beer but decided against it. There was too much at stake with the first read-through to arrive with the local Caldera IPA on his breath. He had to impress his director and the cast of seasoned actors.

I sensed his nerves by the way he was talking nonstop about being on set with live tigers in his last film. Apparently he'd played a dirty cop at a rendezvous gone wrong at the Bronx Zoo. He held up his hands about a foot apart, “Have you ever stood this close to a tiger?”

He genuinely waited for an answer

Again, Maddie and I shook our heads. What does he think we
do all day? “FX, English teacher, high school senior. No tigers in our daily lives.”

As he went on about choreographing the tiger chase scene, I could see that Maddie was entranced. Once she got over her initial shyness, she returned to the savvy congressman's daughter that she was. Her life in Southern California included fundraisers, ribbon cuttings, and various backstage meet-and-greets with her father's supporters, who were occasionally famous. She had hung with the Schwarzenegger kids and appeared on behalf of her father at rallies. At school, her classmates were the daughters of Academy Award–winning screenwriters and sitcom actors. Emma #3's dad had been in a seminal '80s rock band that had once toured with Squeeze. Maddie could handle a movie star.

It occurred to me that if things had worked out differently, FX would have been her uncle. And I was relieved to see that's exactly the way he was treating her, like she was his high school niece. I could honestly report to Bumble that she had nothing to worry about when it came to Maddie. Except, of course, an iron deficiency from the lack of meat, but I didn't feel that was my department.

Just then, a duo of college girls in Oregon State T-shirts approached the table. They stood about ten feet away at first, as if we weren't going to notice their staring and gawking. FX tensed, then breathed deeply and turned to the young women, “Hi, can I help you?” Something he had obviously said a zillion times.

“We love you!” the girls shrieked, in fine Tri Delt form. “Can we take a picture with you?”

FX graciously posed for photos, signed several autographs, and thanked the girls for their support. He was lovely and charming and clearly over this part of his life. By the time the disturbance was over, half the restaurant seemed headed our way for their own Facebook trophies. FX signaled the waiter, giving him the international hand motion for “Check, please.” We were only about halfway through our meals, but I couldn't blame him.

I thought about shoving down the other half of my BLT but decided to take advantage of the weight-loss opportunity. No wonder celebrities were so skinny—they never got to finish a meal.

“Does that get old?” I asked FX as he paid the bill.

“Part of the job. I hear it gets worse when they stop asking.”

Maddie rolled her eyes as we headed out the door. “That never would have happened in Pasadena.” That's true. We might not boast as many movie stars as Brentwood or Beverly Hills, but Pasadenans were sophisticated enough to let a guy eat his turkey sandwich in peace.

FX smiled as he slipped on his Ray-Bans. “I think I'll be safe with these on. Next time, I'll wear a baseball hat. Let's walk.”

Henry & Katherine FROM HENRY V

HER:
Princess and political pawn. The daughter of the king of France, married off to keep the peace with England. Gentle, feminine, a girly girl. More wily in the ways of men than she lets on. Speaks very little English, or pretends not to understand, to gain a romantic advantage. Totally plays the King of England.

HIM:
Reformed bad boy, now king of England. Focused, disciplined, leader of men. Once he sets his mind to a task, he will stop at nothing to accomplish it. Brilliant orator, inspiring speaker, and one of the great flirters in the entire Shakespearean canon.

MEET CUTE:
In a palace near the battlefield, with their countries at war, surrounded by translators and advisors. And then a treaty is signed.

WHY THEY WORK:
It's bigger than the both of them: He is England and she is France.

BEST LINE MAYBE EVER:
“You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate.”

RELATIONSHIP MOTTO:
“Customs curtsy to great kings. We are the makers of manners, Kate.”

SHAKESPEAREAN COUPLE MOST LIKELY TO:
Appear on the cover of
People
a record number of times.

WHO THEY REMIND YOU OF:
The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, if Will had to conquer France before he could marry Kate, and Kate had to learn a foreign language. Or Beyonce and Jay-Z.

CHEMISTRY FACTOR:
4.5 OUT OF 5

The heart of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival lies in the bustling theater complex that sits a short but steep hike up from East Main Street. Comprising multiple theaters, rehearsal spaces, scenery and costume workshops, and offices, this is where all the action happens during festival season. From the faithfully re-created outdoor Elizabethan stage, to the elegant Angus Bowmer theater, to the intimate new black-box space, the three-block beehive was bursting with creative energy and theater adoration even this early in the season. The courtyard in between the theaters was the hub for ticket selling, pre-play lectures, musical performances, and glorious banners. It was also the spot to line up before a play and to gather to discuss the work after the curtain came down. The beloved, verdant Lithia Park provided a cooling background even on the hottest summer days. It was Ashland's Times Square, Central Park, and Lincoln Center combined, minus the car horns and taxicabs but with the lovely Tudor Guild Gift Shop, staffed by lovely Tudor
Guild volunteers, who were there for all of your Shakespeare-themed cocktail-napkin needs.

I'd been here a half dozen times before as a theatergoer with students and friends, but never like this, on the inside of a production. As we climbed the pitch up Pioneer Street, I felt my pulse racing. This is why I came to Ashland, to feel this sense of excitement and purpose.

I was so happy to be among my people that I almost forgot I wasn't really wanted. FX took my hand and squeezed it. “Here we are!”

Well, at least one person wanted me here.

We ducked into the New Theater, which, according to the press guide that Angie had included in our welcome packet, had recently been renamed the Thomas Theater, thanks to the generosity of a group of donors, none of whom were named Thomas. The new name hadn't caught on yet, but the festival was trying. The rehearsal space for
Midsummer
was inside the complex, and FX knew where we were headed. The security person at the door nodded as we produced IDs, noting that only FX was on the list, but he waved us all through when FX said, “They're with me.” I should take him to LAX with me.

We stood in the wide hallway, pausing before heading into the room where the cast and production team would be waiting. FX looked more nervous than I'd seen him look since we started this grand experiment back in April. He took a deep breath. “Back onstage, Lizzie. Can you believe it?”

“I can,” I said. “You'll be great. You know that, right? This is going to be epic.”

“It will, won't it?” he said, but he didn't look like he believed it.