V. Don't Make Me Over
Don't make me over
Now that I'd do anything for you
Don't make me over
Now that you know how I adore you
Don't pick on the things I say, the things I do
Just love me with all my faults
That way that I love you, I'm beggin' you
Don't make me over
Now that I can't make it without you
Don't make me over
I wouldn't change one thing about you
Just take me inside your arms and hold me tight
And always be by my side, if I am wrong or right
I'm beggin' you
Don't make me over
Don't make me over
Now that you've got me at your command
Accept me for what I am
Accept me for the things that I do
Accept me for what I am
Accept me for the things that I do
Now that I can't make it without you
I wouldn't change one thing about you
Accept me for what I am
Oh, accept me for the things that I do
A few interns turn their heads, some flushing scarlet, others grinning widely. Monitors show revolving pictures of children in underdeveloped countries, facts flying by underneath, but all eyes focus on him. Craig still wasn't used to the attention, even though he'd been famous for about eight years now.
"It's Craig Manning," he hears one intern whisper as he walked to the WJTV front desk.
"Hi ladies," says Craig.
"Hi Craig," says the two girls behind the desk at the same time in breathy voices.
"Um, I'm here to see Emma Nelson," says Craig.
"And see her you will," shouts a voice to his right.
Craig smiles at Emma, clad in a lime green summer dress, her hair hanging to her back.
"Come on. Say hi to a little person, rock star," says Emma.
Craig gives her a bear hug, and releases her. "It's good to see you, Em."
Emma leads him down the hall. "Let me get you away from the interns before they assault you."
Craig walks beside her, hanging out tightly to his guitar case. The last time he saw Emma was at Angie's graduation party, before Angie headed to McGill. Sean had attended the party with her, and he didn't mention it to Ellie, who had to work that day. It was probably for the better, seeing as it was pretty clear that Emma was wearing an engagement ring, though he made it a point not to ask. He thought he overheard her and Liberty, fresh out of law school, discussing pre-nups and why they were and weren't needed.
"So how's Miss Manny?" asked Craig as they reached the outside of a dressing room.
"She's good. She's on movie number nine and working on marriage number three. To tell you the truth, I don't want to buy any more bridesmaid dresses so I hope this is the last one," sighs Emma.
"Well, you can tell her I've seen her films, and I may've teared up during a couple of those romantic comedies. May have," says Craig.
"I'll make sure to tell her," laughs Emma. "Oh, wait a minute."
Craig sees a young man walking around with a clipboard and a headseat, murmuring to himself. It takes a few seconds for him to realize that it's Derek.
"Derek, if you're making personal calls again...," chastises Emma, taking off his headseat.
She places it to her ear and nods approvingly. Derek crosses his arms.
"I only did that once. Gosh!" groans Derek. "Hey, Craig."
"Hey," says Craig.
"So Craig, we checked all the equipment and your band got here about an hour ago. You're on after Jude. And your stylist dropped off your clothes. Very interesting ensemble."
"Interesting how?" prompted Craig.
Emma avoided his stare. "Uh, Derek can take care of any needs you have. Thanks, Craig!"
"Emma, what..." starts Craig, but she was gone before he could finish.
Derek ushers Craig into the room, and his outfit stands out immediately. It's a white suit with a white tie, and even the jacket buttons are white. Craig's head starts to pound. The dressing room has a few monitors over the table, and Craig can see Emma barking orders from the stage where he'd be playing.
"Sweet!" says Danny, touching the suit. "Is this Gucci?"
"More like Garish," moans Craig, sinking into a chair at the dressing table.
"Hmmm, well, there's food over there, magazines on the table, and oh, coffee. I can pour you some."
Craig gets up and takes the mug from Derek, starts to pour. "Not into star treatment, but thanks."
"Well, you can pour me some then," replies Derek.
Craig tips the pot, glancing at the monitor. His face freezes when a curtain of reddish-brown hair graces the screen, then her head turns and his chest begins to throb. Her eyes, still that easter-egg blue, playful, soulful. Her small, nicely curved nose. Her smile that lit up everything around her. Ashley talks animatedly with Emma and another person who looked somewhat familiar, though he couldn't figure out who.
"Craig...Craig!" yelled Derek. "It's full!"
"Huh? Oh!" exclaimed Craig, watching coffee spill out of the cup and onto the carpet.
Derek looked up at the monitor. "Oh, yes, she's known to have that effect on men. She gets like a marriage proposal in the mail everyday. Too bad she's married. I asked her out a couple of times, but nope, no luck."
"Dude, you asked Ashley out?" says Craig, giving Derek a puzzled look.
"Uh, no. I was talking about Darcy!" replies Derek, pointing to the screen.
"Oh," says Craig, finally seeing that the third person is Darcy, dressed in a shimmery pink dress.
"Best weather girl ever," whispers Derek. "Oh, well. I'm going to get Emma a danish."
"What're you, dude? Like her puppet?" teases Craig.
"Shut up, man," says Derek. "I'm a grip and don't forget it. A grip for the show she's running, but whatever. You know what I mean."
Craig goes back to his chair, but can't get comfortable and stares back up at the monitor. She's gone. The studio audience was packed, carrying signs and waving them around excitedly in anticipation. Derek scoots around, checking the cameras, then helping Emma with her microphone and battery pack.
But she's here, thinks Craig. He'd heard from Emma at the party that Ashley was flitting between stations, but he didn't know which stations. Caitlin even mentioned she'd run into Ashley at a couple journalism conferences a few years back, the second one in which she showed up with a prominent bump. Pregnant. He couldn't even envision her shape being any other way than slender, stately. Craig tried to get tapes of her newscasts, looking up on the computer to see if they were available. They weren't. Emma's voice fills the room, as he casts another disgusted look at the white suit.
"Hello and welcome to the first Educate to Eradicate Illiteracy charity show!" yells Emma to a chorus of cheers. "Today, we're raising money to cure a serious condition in a number of third-world countries. Our aim is to place a book in every hand, to start the education process so that these nations can live up to their full potential and become functioning, independent places. Several of our homegrown artists will appear today, including Jude Harrison..."
"Ahhhhh!" screams a bunch of girls in the front row.
Emma lists a few others who Craig has to admit he didn't know, but then she says a name that he knows.
"And Craig Manning!" yells Emma.
The first three rows stand up and clap. They wear Manning Mania tees. One girl raises a black "Marry Me Manning" sign, the words in red glitter. Craig can feel his face growing hot.
"But first, we have a taped segment with Manny Santos, who granted us an interview and has agreed to provide a ticket to her latest movie premiere to the person with the show's highest donation."
There are a few screams of delight from the audience.
"Roll the tape," says Emma.
Emma and Manny appear in a desert setting. Emma has practical clothes on, a white blouse and tan shorts. But Manny wears a huge, white sun hat and a peach, clingy dress with same-colored heels. She holds a small pug in her hands.
"Say hi, Teacup," says Manny, lifting the puppy's paw and making it wave.
"So Manny, you've decided to give this prize of a free movie premiere ticket for the caller who donates the most money?"
"Yes, I have chosen to do just that," says Manny in a stilted voice, her eyes down as if she's reading a cue card. "I love to help third world countries, especially when it comes to killin'."
"Children," says a voice from off-camera.
"Oh, children," says Manny, wiping sweat from her neck. "I can't see with all this sunlight."
"Put on your glasses," whispered Emma. "You know you should wear them."
"The ones they just gave me? No, they make my ears look fat."
"Can you tell us a little about the picture?" asks Emma, acting like things were going along smoothly, but looking slightly annoyed.
"Yeah, I play a fish out of water," says Manny. "Sorority girl in the Sahara desert."
"You always play a fish out of water," says Emma, rolling her eyes.
"But this time I have blonde highlights. Adds another layer to my character."
"Yeah, okay," says Emma, nudging her to the side. "Well, if you want a chance to see a movie, hang out with Manny, and.."
"Wait. I have to hang out with them?" interrupts Manny.
Emma pushes Manny off-camera.
"Where's my iced tea?" yelled Manny offscreen.
"Well, interesting convo, but her heart's in the right place," says Emma. "Cut it, Derek."
Craig chuckles.
The screen switches back to Emma, a painful grin on her face. "Uh, so yeah...are you guys ready for Jude?"
"Yes!" shouts several people in the audience.
"Everyone, please welcome Jude Harrison!" exclaims Emma.
Jude appears and jogs to the stage, guitar in hand. Several girls in Jude-like blonde wigs pull out cameras, and yell her name.
"What's up, guys? Let's get it rockin'," says Jude, as her band members take their places.
Craig relaxes a bit. He always enjoyed hearing her music. They'd run across each other on the road a few times, especially when he was first starting out. He told her that she'd given him hope, that a young person could make it out of Toronto and build a solid career.
"If I was drowning in the sea, would you dive right in and save me?" sings Jude.
"Down here, Emma?" asks a familiar voice that makes Craig's heart race.
"Yeah, we're bringing you in around the half-hour mark," replies Emma from outside the room.
Craig covers his face with a magazine, coughs. He hears heels tapping against the carpet, and the metal sound of hangers sliding across the bar of a clothes rack. He peers over the magazine, his green eyes taking in the sight. She was so close, just like old times. She looked the same, except for the professional clothes. Her crimson, silky business suit hit every place just right. Craig lets out a deep breath, hearing Jude's song run through his ears.
"Ewww," says Ashley, fingering the white suit.
Craig smiles, then covers his face again.
Ashley sits at the dressing table, a few chairs away from Craig. She pulls some lipstick from her purse and runs it over her lips. Craig lowers the magazine again, this time letting it sit on his lap. Ashley blinks, apparently now realizing she's not the only one in the room. Craig gives her an awkward wave. Her fingers jump and a bit of lipstock covers her two front teeth.
"Ugh," says Ashley, reaching over Craig to fetch some tissue. "Sorry."
"Nervous?" asks Craig.
"Yeah," replies Ashley, balling the tissue in her fist. "You...you look good."
Craig chuckles. "You...not so good. Here."
He takes the tissue from her, and he's surprised she's letting him, letting him touch her. He wipes off the traces of lipstick, his eyes on her mouth, a mouth he used to know so well, kissed so frequently. Ashley stares down as he wipes, then into his eyes, and she blushes. Craig's pretty sure he's blushing too, if not more. Jude's voice covers the silence:
Your eyes are holding up the sky
Your eyes make me weak, I don't know why
Your eyes make me scared to tell the truth
I thought my heart was bullet-proof
Now I'm dancing on the roof
And everybody knows I'm into you
"There you go," says Craig, tossing the tissue into a nearby trashcan.
Ashley stands, paces across the room. Craig knew how she felt, watching her go by.
"There were rumors that you'd be here, but I didn't know you were confirmed til today...I just...maybe I should go," stammers Ashley, stroking her neck, once in a while glancing at him. "Don't want to upset you before the show."
"Ashley, come on...sit," offers Craig.
Ashley reluctantly sits, and smiles at him.
If my heart was sadder than a song
Would you still listen?
If my tears fell on you, one by one
Would you see them glisten?
"I love this song,"says Ashley softly, twisting in her chair to face Craig.
Craig wondered if Ashley listened to his album, but he knew he couldn't ask that without looking like he was fishing for a compliment. It didn't matter.
"Your songs are amazing too," spoke up Ashley. "Your last album...it was incredible."
Craig shakes his head. "It didn't sell too well.Maybe I shouldn't have experimented with all those types of sounds."
"It was wonderful...I mean, so many artists don't have the guts to be diverse. It shows why...why you lasted this long."
Why couldn't we have lasted long, thinks Craig, but instead of saying it, he nods towards the suit.
"That's my outfit," says Craig. "I want to shoot myself."
"It's...not that bad."
Craig raises an eyebrow.
"Okay, it is," says Ashley, laughing. "Why don't you just wear what you have on? Jeans and a T-shirt seems fine to me."
"Mickey would kill me. He paid for this stylist..."
"It's better than wanting to kill yourself. They make me wear these little business suits and dresses, and I don't like wearing them on-air. I'd slide into a pair of jeans if I could. But your style has always worked for you, so why change it unless you want to? Take it from Degrassi's Madonna."
Craig grins. It felt good to talk to her again, though there was so much to be said. Too many elephants in the room. Truthfully, there was no time, because he'd be on in less than five minutes, but maybe he could arrange something later.
"Ashley, um...," began Craig.
"Have you seen Leslie?" asks Ashley, taking out a small picture housed in her wallet. "I just...basically show her to everyone."
Craig settles back, takes the picture from her. "Whoa...Jimmy should lock those doors now, because she's going to be beating away the guys in about a decade. She's gorgeous."
Jimmy. He hadn't said that name in years, but he thought about him, her, way too often. Leslie was beautiful, he couldn't deny it. But they used to beautiful too, before Jimmy came along.
Ashley beams. "She's a singer," gushes Ashley.
"No way! No...that's awesome," says Craig, smiling at the picture.
"Yeah...yeah, must be in the genes," says Ashley, shyly.
A red-haired intern with hoop earring ducks her head into the door.
"Excuse me, Mr. Manning, we're ready for you," says the intern, her head disappearing as quickly as it came in.
"Wearing the suit?" asked Ashley, gazing at the rack.
"Nah," says Craig, smiling at her. "I don't want to look like a marshmallow. It was really good...talking to you."
Ashley gives him a hopeful smile, or maybe he saw it as hopeful.
"Craig...I...wow, this is so hard," stammers Ashley.
"Yeah...yeah, it is," replies Craig. "But...um, do you want to come out and watch me play? That's something we're both used to, and we don't have to talk."
"Ummm..."
"You can watch girls throw panties at me...or socks, since this is a family show."
Ashley grins. "Yeah...yeah, I can do that."
Craig takes out his guitar, smiling the entire time, and walks with Ashley to the edge of the stage. There used to be nights when this was the norm, he thinks, and Ashley would kiss him for luck. Not so this time. He shoots her a welcoming look, but he finally sees something in her eyes that he hadn't seen before, a trace of sadness. Was she remembering everything? But no, it looked a bit deep-rooted, a sadness that looked like it kept growing and growing. It reminded him slightly of Joey after his mother died. He brushed it away, waiting for Emma to call him onstage.
"We've reached four thousand dollars so far!" announced Emma to the excited crowd. "Let's keep the momentum going, guys. And now...we have Toronto's own stellar superstar, Mr...Craig...Manning!"
Every row stands and cheers as Craig walks onstage, waving to his adoring fans. One girl faints, while her friend tries to revive her. The interns were in the back, sneaking in to catch this performance when they should've been working.
"What's up, WJTV," shouted Craig into the microphone.
"Aaah," they scream back.
"I want to have your baby, Craig!" yelled a blonde in the third row.
Craig glances at Ashley, who looks slightly peeved.
"Ummm...yeah," says Craig. "I was supposed to play a ballad, but I thought I'd play "I Can't Take My Hands Off Of You.' It was the only hit off the last album, but since you guys loved it..."
"Yesss," yells the interns who greeted him at the desk.
"I'm playing this because...while we have all this sadness in our lives, and while these children and adults have sadness in their lives, we can't forget that reading, music, art...whatever should make us feel good inside. And trust me, you will feel good inside if you provide these things to people who've never had that happiness."
Everyone claps as the drummer counts them down.
"Ohhh, everybody gettin' down," sings Craig.
"Craig!" shouts the same blonde. "I love you!"
"Oh yeah, my feet don't touch the ground," continues Craig. "Oh, I can't keep my hands off of you."
"And there's nothing I won't do," the audience sings back.
"Woo, come on, guys!" yells Craig. "Clap with me. Oh, I can't keep my hands off of you."
Everyone claps to the beat. Craig notices that Ashley is clapping too, her eyes shining. The real goal was to make her happy, make her smile. Who cared that Mickey would lay into him later about not singing a manly ballad? The crowd was grooving, and Ash was too.
The drummer ends it with a solo, and grabs the cymbal to make it stop shaking. The audience applauds, some people jumping around joyfully. Ashley doesn't jump, but Craig thinks he can see joy on her face that wasn't there before.
Emma joins him onstage.
"That was great," she whispers in his ear. "Do you think you can stop by the carnival afterwards and sign some autographs?"
Craig nods, then whispers: "Yeah, sure, if it'll help."
Emma winks at him, then holds up one of his arms. "Craig Manning, everyone!"
Craig gets off the stage, hugging a few girls who rush to him. A security guard rushes Craig to the back as his cellphone rings.
"Hey, Mickey," says Craig, not bothering to check the number.
"Well, that was interesting," says Mickey.
"Mickey, that suit..well, it wasn't me, so..."
"Craig, the audience loved it. That's all I care about. I've got offers for more appearances as we speak."
"I'm staying in Toronto for awhile," says Craig, staring at a small monitor where Ashley was handing Emma a check. "There's stuff I need to take care of."
"Well, take care of it soon," says Mickey, hanging up.
Craig peers at the monitor, traces the curve of Ashley's face, feels the static. He didn't know he was doing it until the guard gave him a confused look. Craig takes his hand away, but it felt natural to do, natural to see her in his mind, while the barriers (a screen, Jimmy, themselves) block his touch.