Fix It for Us (13 page)

Read Fix It for Us Online

Authors: Emme Burton

BOOK: Fix It for Us
2.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

             
“Oh, Lizard baby…”  His voice is so deep it reverberates.  “That was so amazing, unexpected and amazing.”  Davis pulls me up off my knees and as he pushes backward onto the bed, pulls me on top of him.  I feel a little shy.  I hide my face in his chest and lick my lips.  Mmmm…Davis.  Then I kiss his chest and look up at him.

             
“So, it was okay, then?”

             
“Lizard, it was… I am speechless.”

             
I’m pleased I could make him feel that way and I smile hugely and wink.  I usually never wink.  But I am doing
a lot
of things I never thought I would do before, now that I have some newfound confidence.  It feels great to tease him.

 

 

 

Chapter 5-MAY

 

 

 

 

A year ago, life moved excruciatingly slowly.  I was sad, scared and thought I’d never get

through feeling that way.  Neil had crushed me and thrown me away to Randall.  And Randall … I still fear the day when I really remember what happened.   It seems forever ago.  The hard parts of life drag.

             
Then there are sections, segments of life when things are good – golden.  It’s these times you’d like to remember perfectly, frame by frame, forever.  And coincidentally, these are the same moments that whoosh by the fastest.  I’ve worked hard to try and keep a mental film of all the times with Davis since the beginning, but true to form – the better the event, and the more hopeful I am about retaining the memory, the faster it flys by.

             
Time has moved at warp speed since the closing of Once Upon A Mattress.  Davis attended every single performance, even when we extended the run, adding a second show on the last Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday.  He admitted to me that he would leave his seat right after the part where “the mouse devours the hawk,” and Prince Dauntless tells off his mother, the Queen.  I had a guess about why, but I must have given him a strange look because he told me it was because he knew Rob (the actor playing Dauntless), was about to kiss me.  Davis said he sat through it once and barely kept it together.  I had no idea.  Honestly, I thought he didn’t like that part because the prince confronted his mother (and maybe that was a little “too close” to real life for his liking). 

I felt a bit bad because I giggled when he confessed his jealousy, “Mavis, it’s only a play.  Rob is gay.  You know that, right?  I mean, I actually think he has a thing for PJ.”

Davis huffed a little and then told me, “I didn’t say it was rational.  I just said I couldn’t stand watching somebody else kiss you.  Fake or not.”  Davis – he’s a heartbreaker.

I’m trying to remember all of those exchanges, but it’s difficult to keep up with how fast change is occurring. 

Immediately after the close of the show, I mean immediately, like the next day, the Midwest Theatre Auditions and Interviews occurred at a large convention hotel in town.  Theatre companies from around the region come to one central location to cast and staff their companies for summer theatre.  Davis and I got very, very lucky.  At least I feel that way.  We both scored jobs in town at The Forest Park Theatre.  I got a job as a production assistant and Davis as an electrician.  I think he would have preferred a lighting design position, but at this theatre, design jobs go to people with established names in the business.  It’s a large outdoor theatre.  They run seven shows over the course of the summer, seven days a week with little turnover time between shows.  They generally bring in one or two B-list celebrities or rising Broadway actors for the main roles of each show and cast the remainder of the cast regionally.  I didn’t even audition at Midwest.  I just interviewed for production jobs.   I’m still trying to figure out what I want to do when I grow up and I’m not sure it’s acting.

My classes are winding down
and I am beginning the parade of “lasts” of my college career.

The closing nig
ht party for Mattress was my last closing night party at Weldon.  Happy and bittersweet, all at once.  I went to my last Springfest as a college student.  I know I’ll be around all next year, since Davis will still be going to Weldon, but I don’t think it will be the same.  I had my last voice lesson with Dee.  We prepared for my final – my voice jury, in front of three of the music professors.  Yikes!  I have finals in acting and dance, but I’m not too worried about those.

Production class.  That’s the class I am most exc
ited about since ending Mattress.  We’ve moved from talking about theatre and film production to television.  Weldon University is focused on fine arts, so television may seem a bit pedestrian to some.  I have actually, through the course of the class, come to appreciate television more.  The immediacy, the fast production schedules.  It seems exciting and challenging.  A speaker came in from one of the local affiliates, a producer of local programming, Gail Patton.  She talked for quite a while to the class, explaining the different levels of producers.  She said that most people start out as production assistants, doing their time, paying their dues until an on-air or assistant producer job comes up.  It intrigued me.  I had little production experience, but enjoyed the bigger picture.  After the class, I introduced myself to Ms. Patton.  She gave me her card and told me to give her a call if I wanted to speak further or pursue television in the future.  I thanked her and then literally, put the card and the idea “in my back pocket.”

***

We graduate tomorrow.  I catch myself doing the reverse of what I did nine months ago.  I am sweating.  Lugging boxes and sweating.  It hasn’t changed.  I still hate sweating.  This time down the stairs from my dorm room to Davis’ Escalade.  Again, no help from the Disco elevator.  Just in time for move-out days, it banged to a halt, maybe for the last time ever.  Little Jan is fretting over fixing or replacing it.  If it goes, it will be missed.  A bit of Weldon history and tradition gone.  Lots of important memories happened in that elevator.  Probably for more than just me.  I am one of the last people out of Lawrence Hall.  Anyone that is staying for the summer has moved to Merton.  I’ve already checked that my floor is clear.  A few more things and I can turn in my key to Little Jan.

I’
m moving in with Davis.  Not just talking about it.  Really doing it.  Almost all of my stuff is in his car.  We spent last night in the dorms – my last night as an RA and student.  I haven’t told my parents yet about moving in with Davis.  I have e-mailed them about graduation but avoided phone calls, claiming to be too busy.  It’s not a complete lie.  I have been busy.  I have my last box in hand, mostly filled with dirty clothes and my sheets and blankets from last night to be washed, as I approach Davis’ car and him. 

“Why haven’t you been answering me?” Davis scolds.

I frown, “What are you talking about, you never called.”

“I did, I have been.  I have been down here packing the car and I called up to you like four times.  You never answered your cell.”

I put the box down by the car and pat the pockets of my jeans.  Key, check … andddd – no cell phone.  “I must have left it upstairs, but I never heard it ring.  Did you try the landline?”

Davis si
ghs and replies, “Yes, it was already cut off.  You better go back in and look for it.”

I agree.  “
I’ll go look.  Good thing I didn’t turn my key in yet.”

I drag myself one more time up the stairs
and unlock the door.  I see my cell phone bouncing slightly and buzzing silently on the floor behind one of the legs of my bed.  My former bed.  I pick it up and see, yes, there are four calls from Davis, a couple from my parents and one from Jules.  It’s strange the ringer was off.  I thought I had turned it back on this morning.  I shrug, probably knocked it to mute while packing.  I look around my empty room one more time and as I walk out into the hallway, up and down the hall.  It’s hard to believe I won’t be back to this place I’ve lived in most of the time for four years.  Wonderful things have happened here.  Mostly wonderful things.  And a few really terrible ones.  I sigh to myself, the good really has outweighed the bad overall.

After a final stop at Little Jan’s to return the key and a really unexpected hug and “keep in touch” (I never thought she’d say that, I figured she thought I was a pain in
the ass,)  I return outside to Davis.  I hold the phone up as I approach and say, “Found it!”

He shakes his head at me
and gives me his smirk smile, “I swear, I am going to staple that cell phone to your forehead.”

I shoot him a look
, bug my eyes and tell him, “Funny.”

Once we are seated in the car, Davis turns to me, leans over slowly toward me, trapping me in his green eyes and says, “Let’s go home.”  His smirk increases
and his eyes are full of the devil.

I kiss him soundly and repeat the last word he said. 

Home.

***

Home.  Davis’ condo.  Strike that – our condo.  I’m going to contribute to the running of the household.  I don’t really know how.  Davis won’t tell me the rent or house payment or however he pays for living here.  I am beginning to suspect it’s completely paid for.  Who has a paid-off home at age 25?  No one I know.  At least not until now.  I’ll do my part and give him money for utilities or buy the groceries or something.  I have
never
had anyone take care of me, except for my parents, and I’m way beyond that now. 

The place is trashed, primarily due to m
y boxes of stuff.  We have slowly been bringing boxes over, but have unpacked nothing.  It’s all been just dropped into the entry hall, spilling into the family room.  One look at it exhausts me.  I know I need to tackle the pile and begin unpacking, but really I just want to sit on the couch like a lump and eat whatever we can order in.  Davis’ cell phone rings, he turns to me and mouths, “Be right back,” holds up a finger and moves to the kitchen.  I walk over to the pile of boxes.  I am just about to open one on the top, when my cell phone rings.  I pull it out of my pocket and see it is my dad’s number.  I have been avoiding him while packing.  Time to face the music and tell my parents I am moving in with Davis.  I hit the
ANSWER
button.

“Hi Daddy
… Oh, you guys just got in?  Good. Good. Where are you staying?  Oh… wow, nice-The Chase Park Plaza.”  I am stalling with every word.  “Yes, yes, I’m all packed.  Ready for tomorrow.  No, no I am good.  Davis is helping.  As a matter of fact …”  I am just about to let the cat out of the bag and tell my dad about my new living arrangements, when Davis comes up behind me and snatches my cell phone out of my hand and takes over the conversation with my dad.  He holds the phone up to one of his ears and wraps his other firm, muscular arm around my waist and squeezes me up against his chest. 

“Hello, sir
… Yes, right, Cal.  Hello, Cal.  I’m just helping Biz and was wondering could you and Diane meet us? Over at the condo… in say, an hour and a half for dinner?  Yes, it will be nice to see you, too, Sir – I mean Cal.”  Davis ends the call and whispers in my ear, “Caught that call just in time.”

I’m puzzled, “What do you mean? We have to tell them eventually… you know, that we are going to live together … even before we are married.  I know that sounds prudis
h, people live together all the time, but my parents are a little … traditional.”

“Just in time, because you know that phone call I got as we came in …?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“It was Dr. Longworth, with an offer to design this summer.”  Strangely, Davis
looks happy and just a little worried.

I can’t believe he is not more enthusiastic.  This is what he wanted, designing, not hanging lights all summer at a hot, outdoor theatre.  I question him, “That’s great.  Right?  You’re going to get to do what you love, not just some theatre job to pay the bills.”  Davis is still not
smiling; in fact he looks pained, frowning almost.  I sense something is off.

Davis pulls me firmly against him
, holding my head to his chest.  He runs his hands repeatedly through my hair.  His breathing deepens, as if he’s trying to soothe himself.  I haven’t had the glimmer of a panic attack in months, haven’t used my mantra, have felt solid, but now I am teetering.  What could be so bad, in the midst of this good news?  I begin to shake.

Into the top of my head, accompanied with soft kisses
, Davis finally speaks, “Lizard… Lizard, baby… I was offered the design job, and that’s great, but there is a big disadvantage to it… ”  He continues to explain, all the while holding me tighter and tighter as I shake in his arms.

Davis is going to Chicago for the summer.  Outside of Ch
icago, actually.  To work at Chicagoland All-Summer Shakespeare Festival.  He has connections up there that he’s been in touch with all year. Dr. Longworth, a Weldon professor we have both worked with frequently, is directing one of the shows and has convinced the artistic director that Davis should do the lighting design.  All the shows aren’t decided yet – Romeo and Juliet, A Midsummer Night’s Dream and one more, probably another tragedy.

I can hear Davis’ excitement about the job growing in his voice as he continues to explain the offer. 
The Shakespeare festival does three shows in rotating rep and even though Davis is a designer and still has to do some of the labor, he will get lots of creative control.  I can’t tell him not to go.  That would be so selfish of me, but being six hours away from each other feels too far.  We just found each other.

“Well, that sort of solves the problem of telling my parents
about living together” I hoarsely get out through unshed tears.

“I can turn it down, Lizard.  I won’t go if you don’t want to
me to.  I’m torn about it, too,” he says softly.

I don’t like the idea, if I am being completely honest, but I can’t let him pass up this opportunity because of
my insecurities.  I decide to “put on my big girl panties” and face it down.  Before I look at him, I check my emotions, will myself not to shake or cry and then pull my face away from his chest to look up at him.  All I see in his face are questions.

Other books

The Factory by Brian Freemantle
The Coldest Winter Ever by Sister Souljah
The Spy with 29 Names by Jason Webster
The Fantasy by Ella Frank
Tara Duncan and the Forbidden Book by HRH Princess Sophie Audouin-Mamikonian