Act One, Part One ~~~~
The companionable trio sat in the parlor car of the Wanderer after a fine dinner, catching up on recent history. Jim and Artie - mostly Artie - regaled Lily with tales of their latest cases, carefully avoiding anything that might be upsetting to the cherished lady, and Lily reciprocated with anecdotes of the theater, all the gaffes and foibles that kept the life of an actress on the road interesting, with occasional excursions into the downright bizarre.
Gradually the stories wound down and Artie and Lily began to spend more time simply gazing at each other and smiling. Jim pulled out his watch, glanced at it, and said, "Well, I'll go see that the horses are settled for the night. Good evening, Lily, Artie." Jim went through the door to the corridor and disappeared.
Artie stood and refreshed his and Lily's sherries, then came back and made himself comfortable on the sofa by that lovely woman's side. Smiling, he said, "I've missed you."
"I've missed you too, Artemus," she smiled in return. They spent the next minute or so just looking at each other, smiling at each other.
At length Artie cleared his throat and asked, "So. You're enjoying life on the road acting?"
She took a sip of her sherry, hesitated, then nodded. "Mm-hmm."
He frowned at the hesitation. "Something wrong, Lil?"
"Well…" she said, but then fell silent.
"I, uh… " Artie said into the silence, "I'll admit Jim and I never did come to see you on the stage again after, uh… well, after New Orleans. It wasn't for lack of interest though; it was a matter of scheduling. If you were appearing on the East Coast, we'd be stuck out West, and if you were in San Francisco, we'd find ourselves recalled to Washington." He took her hand. "But I never dreamed that you were appearing in this town here and now. Actually, I'm a bit surprised at that. Usually if the great Lily Fortune is headlining a play, the advertising screams out the fact."
She slid her hand out of his and toyed with her sherry glass, head bowed. "I, uh… I'm not the lead actress this time."
"You're not?" His eyebrows arched in surprise. "What play are you in now?"
"Oh, it's yet another revival of The Rivals."
"And you're not Lydia Languish this time?"
She shook her head No.
"Who then? Julia?"
She laughed. "I wish!"
He stared at her. "Surely not Lucy the maid?"
She shook her head again, a hard look coming up in her eyes. "No, not her either."
"Well… well, that leaves… Oh! Oh, Lily! Not Mrs Malaprop!"
She nodded, her face downcast. "Mrs Malaprop."
"But, but, Lil! You're much too young for that role!"
She sighed. "Not according to the producers." She toyed with the sherry glass some more, then set it aside and said heatedly, "Do you know, they lured me here with the promise that I would play Lydia, but once I arrived, suddenly it's, 'Oh, Miss Fortune, what a stroke of good luck we've had! Miss Angela DuBois came available just yesterday and we've signed her to play Lydia. But never fear, dear lady, you have such a reputation at comedy, we just know that you'll shine as Mrs Malaprop!' " Lily shuddered, and for a moment it looked as if she might cry as well.
"Well," said Artie, slipped an arm around her shoulders, "come to think of it, I'm sure you would shine as Malaprop. Because you, my dear, would shine playing a potted plant by the proscenium arch or a footstool by the backdrop."
She laughed. "Oh, Artie, you silver-tongued smoothie, you always do know the right thing to say!"
"And do?" he said. He set aside his own glass of sherry, slid still closer to her on the sofa, then kissed her tenderly.
"Oh, Artemus," she whispered when the kiss ended. "Yes, yes, you do know the right thing to do."
"And besides," he said, taking up the glasses and passing her own to her once more, "it's only this one play. You'll be back to the ingénue roles again before you know it."
She shook her head. "I wish I could believe that, Artemus."
He glanced at her, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
She sighed. "Oh, I don't expect you to understand. You're a man, and it's a man's world. When an actor gets older, people begin to describe him as 'distinguished' and there's a whole body of work awaiting him. King Claudius, Richard the Third, the, uh, Scottish play, not to mention Falstaff and Prospero - and of course Lear."
Artie grinned. "Which I played at the ripe old age of twenty-one, you may recall."
She laughed. "Ah, yes, the master of the make-up box! And you know that there are plenty of actors who have done the reverse: older men playing young roles such as Hamlet and Romeo, and getting away with it." Her face grew sober. "It's not like that for actresses, Artie. Nearly all the plum roles for women are young, and it's expected that young women will fill those roles. Yes, one can go from playing Ophelia to playing Queen Gertrude. The Scotsman's lady can be older to a certain extent. But after that, there's the endless round of Malaprop and the three witches. Artie, I'm not ready to be a crone!"
"Who said you're a crone? Anyone who dares suggest you play one of the witches will have to answer to me, Lil! And anyway," he added gallantly, sweetly, "you will always and ever be my beauteous young Juliet."
Again they kissed.
She smiled up at him, hesitated once again, then said, "Speaking… speaking of roles, Artie…"
"Yes, Lil?"
"I, well…" She ducked her head, then looked up at him. "I… was offered a role some time back, and I turned it down. But now… now I'm beginning to wonder if… well, if that part might still be open."
He tipped his head, looking a bit baffled. "You were offered a role how long ago? Wouldn't it have been filled by now? Just what play are we talking about?"
"It was about three years ago. And as far as I know, the role never was filled. As for the play, its title is Real Life. And the role I'm talking about is Mrs Artemus Gordon."
"Ah!" A slow and beatific smile spread across Artie's face. "So you're saying…"
"I'm saying if you still want to get married, I'd like to change my answer."
With a magnificent grin he threw his arms around her, nearly spilling both their drinks. "Lily! Lily, you've just made me the happiest man on the face of this earth! Wait till Jim hears!" He kissed her enthusiastically, and she kissed him back just as ardently.
"Oh but, Lil," he added, "you know I still have the same job I had before. It's still just as dangerous. You'll still never know if you're kissing me or 'some bomb,' as you put it."
"Oh," she said. "That. That, uh…" She looked away. "That was only part of the problem."
"It was?"
"Oh, Artemus, you remember that night! The opening night of my play, the six curtain calls, the heady wine of theatrical triumph! And on top of all that, the note from Mother saying she had eloped with Mr Peters! You remember."
"Yes," he chuckled. "You wanted to celebrate."
"For good reason! Do you realize that night was the first time in my life that I had been out from under Mother's thumb? I was free! Free to be my own woman: to go where I wanted and do as I pleased. It was an exhilarating feeling. And then…"
"And then?"
Soberly, she looked into his eyes and took his hand. "And then you proposed."
He shook his head. "So?"
She sighed. "Again, Artemus, you're a man living in a man's world. You don't know what it is for us women. Do you know that, if a school teacher gets married, she has to give up her job? No one will hire a married woman as a teacher, because she's expected to stay home and keep the house. I'm not a housekeeper, Artie!"
"You're not a teacher either. Married women act."
"Yes, we actresses have a bit more leeway than most women. But still, to have married you right away would have meant surrendering the freedom I'd only just gained, untasted. I wanted to live my life on my own terms for a while. It's… it's not that I didn't love you or trust you, Artemus. I did and I do. But I wanted some time to myself, to blossom as an actress, to plunge into Life and live it to the full."
"All right," he said slowly. "I suppose I understand."
She touched his cheek affectionately. "But do you know what I found out?"
"No."
"The more time passed, the more I missed you. I… I began to see you everywhere, your dear face. Of course when I took a closer look, you weren't there; it was all my imagination. In fact," she laughed, "when you came around that corner today and I fell into your arms, I thought at first that I was imagining your face on a stranger once more." Tenderly she added, "I'm so glad I was mistaken."
"So am I," he grinned. "Um…"
"Um?"
Suddenly Artie slipped off the sofa to one knee before her. Pulling a small black box out of his pocket, he opened the box to reveal a very tasteful diamond ring. "Lily Fortune," he said. "Uh… You know, stage fright is about to steal my voice from me again. Maybe I'd better get Jim to help me out…"
She laughed and laid a hand on his arm to keep him from carrying out that idea. "No, no. I know exactly what you mean to say, Artemus. Will I marry you?" Her eyes smiled into his. "The answer this time, Artie you darling, is Yes."
Artie lifted the ring from its box and slipped it onto her finger, then let out a sigh of relief. "Oh good, I got the right size." He drew her into his arms once more for a long and satisfying kiss.
Lily held out her hand, admiring the ring on her finger. Then, puzzled, she turned to him and said, "But, Artemus, why did you have that ring on you? You said you had no idea I was even in the same town with you. Why would you be ready to propose when you didn't even know you would see me today?"
Not wanting to embark on what might turn into a very long story of how he had weaseled the truth out of a time traveler to learn that Lily would be dramatically reentering his life, Artie just shrugged modestly and said, "A man can always hope, Lil. A man can always hope."
