30
Erik
Nicole and I found ourselves so busy with our commitments that in the next two weeks, before Thanksgiving, we didn't find the time to share anything but progress reports on Learning Lunacy. I also had much to do with the cast of Phantasma. The new choreographer lacked Madame Quincy's fast inspiration, but she was obedient. It was a Friday night, that she claimed was the start of her week-long Thanksgiving vacation, that Nicole and two familiar young faces came to the show. I identified them from memory of the headshots and her ramblings about this young man and woman as Nora and Lavon. She brought her friends. As I watched from Box Five, I prayed she didn't tell them anything about us. Then I recalled I hadn't touched her in two weeks. I was strangely paranoid that she had forgotten me. Throughout the opening number, my thoughts battled against one another until I realized she wasn't watching the new show. She was looking at me. Her friends weren't, so the battle in my head concluded under the notion that our secret was safe.
When the show ended, the three of them stayed behind and discussed. I hid in a space between the seats and the orchestra pit to hear them. A female voice that didn't sound like Nicole and therefore was Nora was, "Okay, no offense to whoever the hell Mr. Y is, but that was tacky."
"Oh, come on, Nora, do you have no taste?" Nicole half-laughed and half-scolded. "That was magic and you know it!"
"Yeah, Nora, c'mon," a male voice I recognized from some recordings Nicole sent me said. Lavon. "Are you just jell you can't dance like in the opening act?"
"Yes, Lavon, I'm jell," Nora scoffed. "You know this guy, Nikki. Take me down to wherever he is so I can give him a piece of my mind."
Nicole paused. I didn't need to see her face to identify her nervousness. "Would that I could, Nora, but we're really just business partners on the phone. I've only seen him, like, five times."
I stifled a laugh.
"In the same place?" Nora asked.
"Mhmm. But all by chance, really."
"Well, c'mon, then. Let's see if chance is on our side," Nora hissed. I heard her feet aggressively hit the floor, but no others.
"No, Nora, we shouldn't. We're not invited, therefore it's trespassing."
"Nora has a point, Nik," Lavon said. "You kinda act weird when you talk about him. Mr. Y."
"He's…a weird thing to talk about," she said. "Mind you, I'm no weirder than you were when you pushed for us to do Dancing Through Life sophomore year."
"I'm a natural Fiyero. Shut up," he said.
"She's right. You were crazy," Nora said. "Nikki, my dad sent me this text and it's in Russian. What does it say?"
There was a pause and then she said, "Come home. He wants you to come home. 'Cause it's late. We have no time to harass anyone. Lavon, I'll escort you home."
They all got up, I heard from their feet hitting the floor, and the last thing I heard was Nora ask, "By the way, where'd you get that jacket? I love it."
"Oh, um, thrift store," Nicole replied.
Less than an hour later, I heard footsteps come through the passage leading to my lair that Nicole used. And there she was. "Do you come alone?" I asked her.
"Yeah, I knew you'd hear all that," she said. "Yes, I'm alone. You owe me big for stalling her. That text didn't even say come home. It was for her mom. Nora's dad doesn't understand technology." She plopped herself on the pile of cushions beside me and let out a heavy sigh. "Not a free moment in two weeks, but I feel like it's been months."
"I know," I breathed, wrapping an arm around her.
"Things have been really crazy, y'know? But we have everything. Costumes, lines, set, musicians. To everyone's surprise, I'm not falling behind on anything. Today the college counselor talked to me about coming in only a few times a week for college apps starting after winter break." She beamed. "Everything's going fine. Why do I feel like I'm dying?"
"What? What's wrong?" I asked.
She sighed. "I'm hungry all the time and my boobs…like, hurt. Do I…look…physically different to you?"
Only once had I been closely involved with a pregnant woman. Madame Giry, may she rest in peace. She complained of the same things, and she did look different. Perhaps because I had known her since she was a child. Nicole, I couldn't tell. I automatically disregarded the immediate thought and said, "I wouldn't know, my dear. You've always looked this way to me." I kissed her forehead and whispered, "Beautiful."
So did she. She threw her arms around my shoulders and pulled me closer to her until our lips were stuck together and I had no escape, not that I needed one. I was in love.