J
Breathe—just breathe . . . Nope, holding my breath works better.
Okay, okay . . . I can do this. It's not so bad now. Breathe again, slowly. In and out, in and out. I hope this doesn't take too long. I don't know how much longer I have until it's officially too late.
My, those curtains are ornate. That sure is a lot of fabric hanging down from the ceiling. I wonder if all those lights make it hot up there?
I can't believe Johnny Depp is sitting right behind me. This place is packed with everyone who is anyone in this business. I wonder where Bill and Ellen are sitting? I'm glad they're here in the building somewhere. Save them another trip.
Oh damn, here comes another one. Hold on. Oh wow that freakin' hurts! Breathe through it, just breathe. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand.
Why now? You couldn't wait one more day . . . even a few more hours? Impatient little bugger—just like your Dada.
Breathe through your mouth, Jennie. No one will notice if you don't make it look obvious.
Should I tell her?
I probably should.
If I say something now, she's going to freak. She's already freaking out. No, don't say anything—not yet.
I can make it. But will I be able to make it to the car?
Count. Need to count. Why didn't I wear a watch? Oh yeah, I have on this one-hundred-thousand-dollar diamond cuff bracelet on loan from Harry Winston. Count the value of diamonds I'm wearing . . . bracelet—one hundred thousand, necklace with drop pendant two one hundred thousand, heavy earrings pulling on my earlobes three one hundred thousand . . . just breathe.
Okay, they are getting closer together. Those last two were less than three minutes apart. Tell her.
"Lisa?" I squeaked. "Honey, um, how much longer, do you think?" I adjusted my sitting position.
She looked at her watch that I got her for Christmas. "Maybe ten more minutes. Why? Are you nervous?"
"No," I breathed out, feigning a smile. "Not nervous."
"Jen, you're sweating. Are you okay?" She turned her body to face me.
I breathed out through my clenched teeth. "Bad timing."
Her eyes opened wide. "Timing?"
"Yep—a few days ahead of schedule."
"Are you saying it's time? Like now is right now?"
"I can make it. But after they make the announcement . . . Mmm." Take quick shallow breaths. Oh shit, that hurts. I hope I don't stain this four-thousand-dollar custom gown.
"When did they start?" she asked, trying to remain calm but not succeeding.
"Earlier," I replied.
"While we were out on the red carpet?"
"Before that," I whispered, trying not to moan from the pain. "When she was doing my hair and makeup."
"Jennie! That was almost five hours ago! We need to go now. Do you need to go now? Tell me if it's time to go now." Lisa started to panic. She was already lurching out of her seat.
"Calm down," I breathed between waves, grabbing a hold of her tuxedo jacket sleeve to pull her back into her seat. "We're okay. But I suggest we don't linger."
As soon as I spoke, another blast of excruciating pain shot through my abdomen. I held my breath and scrunched my eyes together. They were coming on faster and harder.
"Jennie, if we need to go, we go. I'm not going to get this anyway. It's not worth putting you two at risk."
"You don't know that." I hated that she was being so pessimistic. She was brilliant.
"We can go if you need to go," she said, already sounding defeated. "It's all right."
"No," I stated adamantly, gritting my teeth. "We're not going anywhere until we hear your name called and they open that envelope. This is your moment. A once-in-a-lifetime moment. I can stick it out."
I breathed through my pursed lips. "But I think it's safe to say that the little tiger and I are not going to make it to any after-parties tonight," I said, trying to add some levity to the situation.
"Honey," she started to argue.
"Stop. There is no way in hell we are going to miss this," I whispered. "We have time." I had to lie—she was freaking out enough for the both of us.
I grabbed her hand. We would go through this together, just like we'd done everything else . . . united as a team.
The enormous curtain dropped over the stage after the lifetime achievement award presentation ended.
"The camera is going to pan to us when they announce the names," she leaned over and whispered in my ear, inconspicuously wiping the bead of sweat trickling down my neck. "Just so you know."
"I know. The camera has panned to us before. I can see when the red light goes on. I'll be wearing this same smile, I promise." My smile was permanently glued in place. "But it will be bigger."
"Are you sure you want to wait?"
"Yes, just shut up already." I grinned at her. "I wouldn't miss this moment for anything in the world. Well, you know what I mean."
Her shiny leather shoe slid across the floor and tapped gently into my low heels.
The music started.
"Please welcome two-time Best Lead Actor Academy Award winners Daniel Day-Lewis, Tom Hanks, Sean Penn, Jack Nicholson, and Dustin Hoffman."
Lisa squeezed my hand and I could see she was holding her breath, too. She took my elbow in her hand and helped me stand up to applaud the actors walking out onto the stage. The five amazing and talented men each announced one of the five actors who were nominated for this year's Best Lead Actor award.
I smiled so proudly as Lisa's name was announced. Jack then joked that he was willing to share the sex symbol status if he had to. We all laughed when he said that if you didn't know who Lisa Manoban was, just ask any female between the ages of six and ninety-six and they would surely tell you all about her.
Lisa, of course, rubbed her forehead while smiling.
I was so proud of her—it made enduring the pain worth it.
No matter what happened with her career from this moment forward, Lisa was now—officially—an Academy Award nominee.
She squeezed my hand tightly, holding our hands to her lips. We both stared off at the floor while each second seemed to last minutes.
"And the Oscar goes to . . ."
I held my breath while the excitement and contractions rippled through me.
Lisa was holding my hand so tightly my fingers were starting to tingle from lack of circulation.
"Lisa Manoban—Isletin."
I think I screamed.
Everyone stood up to applaud—everyone. Famous directors, famous celebrities, famous musicians—the entire audience rose to applaud for her.
Lisa looked like she'd been punched in the gut. She leaned over and kissed me. I couldn't stop smiling; I was giggling with excitement. She kissed me again, rubbing her hand over my stomach before heading toward the steps to the stage. Tears of happiness slipped from the corner of my eyes.
You could see in her priceless expression that she was shocked to have won. I hoped this overwhelming moment wouldn't render her speechless. She was visibly shaken; at least, visibly to me. Her mouth hung open in disbelief and her hand nervously rubbed her forehead as she climbed the steps.
I stood and clapped for her, enduring each painful contraction bravely as my body readied itself to give birth to our child.
I watched in awe as five of the most iconic actors of our time each shook Lisa's hand and gave her congratulatory pats and hugs. Her heroes, her mentors, the men she had admired and respected and strived to be like all welcomed her into their ranks.
Lisa stood at the podium with her beautiful gold statue clutched in her hands, still completely blown away that her dream had come true. She had finally achieved her greatest desire. Her career as an artist had reached its highest peak.
"Thank you," Lisa said repeatedly into the microphone. Her eyes were locked on mine.
Everyone sat down in anticipation of her acceptance speech.
She had been dragging her feet about preparing until finally last night I made her write down what she would say if this moment were hers.
"Thank you," she said again. "I am so very humbled to be standing here in front of you all." She scratched her forehead. She was so nervous.
Breathe, honey, just breathe.
"I didn't think this goal would ever be obtainable, until someone convinced me otherwise and told me that dreams do come true if you point yourself in their direction." She winked at me.
"That person is my lovely wife, Jennie, to whom I owe everything for this moment. She said two years ago that this script was Oscar-worthy and I'm so glad I listened to her." She breathed out and chuckled nervously, shaking her award as proof.
I blew her a kiss from my hand and rubbed my stomach, pushing a tiny foot back down. Our child was anxious to have his birthday.
She reached for the little piece of paper that she had tucked away in the inside breast pocket of her jacket. Written on it were the names of people she wanted to thank. I was glad she wore the silver tie and white shirt with her black tuxedo. She looked absolutely dashing.
Another powerful contraction hit. I grasped the armrest of my seat and locked my arms to help me ride out the pain. This one was difficult to smile through.
She looked out over the crowd. "I promise to make this quick as my wife just informed me several minutes ago that she's been in labor for the last five hours, and I really don't want her to give birth to our first child down there in the front row."
The audience clapped and laughed.
She continued to fumble with the paper, nervously trying to unfold it. "Tell him to hang on, honey, I'll be done in a minute."
The audience laughed again.
She scratched her eyebrow. "I just let it slip," she muttered, mostly to herself, but everyone heard her.
She shrugged, looking back at the five men still standing on the stage with her.
"Oh well, now the tabloids don't have to speculate any longer and the paparazzi can stop asking. It's a boy!" She looked out at the audience and grinned proudly.
The audience roared and applauded.
"I don't know which moment of my evening tonight will be bigger, receiving this award or the arrival of my son, but I am grateful that they are happening on the same day so I can truly say that today is the best day of my life." She took in a few quick breaths, trying to calm herself down.
"I'd like to thank my mom and dad, who are also here somewhere. Dad, yell so I know where you are."
I heard her father yell "here" from somewhere in the back right corner of the grand theater and couldn't help but smile.
Lisa continued her acceptance speech, thanking the amazing director, the crew, her co-stars, and expressing gratitude for being recognized among the other four nominees.
I was relieved when she finished, and I smiled when several of the superstars who flanked her patted her on the shoulders as she made her way to the side of the stage.
"Mrs. Manoban, are you in need of an ambulance?" a female stagehand asked, helping me as I tried to stand up.
"No," I breathed in between contractions. "Just my wife, her parents, and our limo."
Four hours later, on March 9, at 11:40 P.M., Jeno Liam Manoban made his debut. Seven pounds, ten ounces; twenty inches long—a perfect miniature version of his Dada, brown eyes and everything.
"Oh it's good to be home," Lisa sighed when we walked through the front doors of our six-thousand-square-foot, completely pretentious log home. Our five-day-old son was bundled up in his cozy blue fleece outfit with little puppy dog appliqués on the toes. He was strapped securely in his car seat carrier and slept the whole way from the airport to his home.
I immediately started unbuckling him so I could hold him again.
"Call the crew, let 'em know we're back. I'm sure Fred and Tammy will rush right over to see him," she chuckled, dragging our suitcases into the entryway.
"I will in a bit. After we get settled."
Lisa took her Oscar out of the felt pouch that it was wrapped in. "I'm going to put this in the office."
"No!" I quickly yelled. "Put it on the fireplace mantel where we can appreciate it."
She smirked.
"No one ever goes in your office, honey. Put it up here." I moved a few of our wedding pictures, making a place for her statue.
I sat down on the couch with the baby, showing her the picture of all of us on our wedding day.
I smiled at the big grin Fred wore on his face when the picture was taken. The trip was a second honeymoon for Fred and Tammy, and sometime during that week, Tammy got pregnant. Their daughter, Madison, was six months old now.
We all joked that maybe our son and their daughter might get together one day. You never know which way the wind is going to blow. Anything is possible.
I had spent all that time worrying about what I would do with my life, only to have it all work out on its own. Wife, mother, partner, lover . . . it was all very fulfilling.
Lisa joined me and the baby in the sunroom that overlooked the lake. She propped her feet up on the coffee table and tossed the box she had in her hands onto the floor.
"Let me hold him now," Lisa whispered, slipping her hands around our tiny baby boy. "Come here, little guy. Come to Dada," she crooned.
Seeing my wife so in love with her son filled me completely.
"What's in the box?" I asked, watching the sun set over the tops of the evergreens.
Lisa chuckled. "Scripts. More scripts."
"Well, you know, honey, you only have one Oscar. If you had two, we'd have matching bookends."
She grinned at me. "Nah, I already have one. Maybe you should work for the second one?"
I rolled my eyes. "I don't think so. Besides, I'm not an actress."
"But you could be, if you try. After all, you're the one who keeps saying that anything is possible if you point yourself in the right direction."
So she'd been paying attention.
I slid my leg down the table and kicked her in the foot.
THE END . . . .