Everything was so damned normal. “Hi, guy, how’s it going? Did you hear about Shane's new movie?”
“Hey bro, meet me for lunch Friday?”
“Yo, buddy, you’re on. Step up to the plate, man.”
“Ron? Jamie calling. Have to cancel our dinner date. Sorry.”
“Dad, can I have ten bucks for the field trip? And you need to sign this form.” Routines unaffected. Days sliding by. But, he knew no peace, no relief from the desire and wanting. Fantasies of Em filled his days, his nights, his life. Would that they be real.
Obsessed! With Miracle Madame, no less. He’d need a miracle all right to survive this.
*
“No.” I wasn't about to give Ron that miracle he wanted. No way. Not a chance.
“But—” I held up my hand to stop any words that might spring out of Elspeth's mouth. She clamped her lips together, crossed her arms, and tapped her toe.
My conscience pricked me a bit, but I wasn't about to admit it to Elspeth. Why should I help him? Mentor hadn’t answered my question so I still didn’t know who he was and why I was in his life, so to speak.
*
And then Sandra found him. Ron participated in a question-and-answer session after a performance one night. The questions were the usual banalities from a group of drama students spending a week in New York. When it ended, he was tired and deflated.
“Excuse me, Mr. Conlin?”
“Yes?” He didn’t try to mask his impatience. “Could I buy you a coffee?” She was a big woman, almost as tall as he was, and substantial; although that impression was undoubtedly heightened by the heavy coat and scarf she was wearing.
A long silence stretched between them. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you.” She made a move to leave.
He felt a surge of empathy.
“No, wait,” Ron called. She turned back. “I didn’t mean to be rude. Yes, I would like a coffee.” What the hell, he thought; this was the best offer he had had in months. “Come this way.” Ron indicated the steps at the side of the stage and held his hand out to her. He collected his coat and led her out the stage door to a nearby coffee house.
“I’m Sandra Hartt,” she said as they slid into the booth.
“Are you with the drama group?”
“No, I’m a New Yorker. I go to as many plays as I can afford and I always stay for the question sessions.”
“Do you always ask actors for coffee?” The words came out cynically and it was too late to remold them into something gentler.
“I never have before.” Her bottom lip trembled.
“Why did you ask me?” He was softer now, sensitive to her hurt. Lord knows, he thought, if anyone can understand rejection it should be me.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you’re honest at least.” He laughed lightly.
“Do you get asked out often?” She asked the question with open curiosity and Ron was relieved to see that she seemed a little more at ease.
“No, you’re the first.”
“Well, you’re honest at least.” She grinned and the ice was broken. Sandra asked intelligent questions about the play. She said that she had seen him in other productions and admired his talent. They discovered that they had similar tastes in theatre.
“I’m a librarian and a frustrated playwright,” Sandra said.
“Are you writing anything now?”
“Not at the moment. Everything I’ve submitted has been rejected.”
“You shouldn’t give up.”
“Easy for you to say. Look where you are.”
“I’ve had lean years,” Ron said. “Very lean.
For a while I quit going to auditions.” He played with his coffee cup remembering those times. Sandra did not interrupt. “For three years, actually. I drove a limo, worked as a security guard, and as a telemarketer, and briefly considered going back to school.
“No waiting tables?”
He made a face at her and she laughed. “I just couldn’t stay away. I started going to auditions again and eventually landed a couple of decent roles.”
“And now Broadway. Glad you stuck with it?” Sandra asked.
“Tough as it is, yes. There are still lean times but this is my life. You should keep trying.”
It was almost dawn before they realized it and he made sure to get her phone number before he put her in a taxi and waved goodbye.
Over the next few months they saw each other as often as their jobs permitted. Ron was cautiously optimistic that their friendship might lead to something more. Lord knew this wasn’t another obsession. Maybe there was a chance.
He and Sandra arrived at his apartment early one Sunday evening after his matinee performance to find Tony sitting on the doorstep. “Hey man, how the hell are you?” The two embraced warmly, then stood back to study each other. “Looking good, Ron. Still hitting the gym?”
“Yes, and still hating it.” Tony laughed. Yet again, Ron thanked the gods for their friendship. Tony made reality bearable.
“It’s good for you,” Tony said. “Now, introduce me to your lady.” Ron did and the three went inside. “I need a place to crash. Thought you might be willing to put up with me.”
“Of course. What brings you here? I thought you were in the big time in L.A.”
“Doing okay there, but I have a couple of auditions for musicals here and that’s really what I’d rather be doing. So what’s for dinner?” They ordered Chinese and spent the evening catching up. Sandra excused herself. Ron got his coat to walk her to the subway.
“No, stay and visit. I’ll be fine.”
“Nonsense,” Tony said. “We’ll both walk you.” He wouldn’t take no for an answer. Coming back from the subway Tony asked, “You in love?”
Ron’s response was slow in coming. “I think so, yeah.”
“Between the sheets?”
“No, not yet.”
“What are you waiting for man? She’s a keeper.” Tony slapped him on the back and, typical Tony, was off on six other topics of conversation in as many seconds.
They were compatible and had a good marriage. Ron would have liked to see more of the world, to have had some adventure in his life. Sandra preferred the security of home. Their routines revolved around the children. Ron missed the stage but the money in movies compensated and he enjoyed the California climate. Sandra didn’t seem to mind his long days on the set. If something was missing in their relationship, Ron wasn’t prepared to examine it too closely.
He never did see her plays. He wondered now if she regretted not following those dreams or if she had written more after they married. He didn’t know, had never asked.
There had been nothing out of the ordinary the morning Sandra died. He found her behind the kitchen island. He called her name, thinking only that she must have fallen and banged her head. He shook her, remembered too late that he shouldn’t have moved her, and dialed 9-1-1. But in the end, none of that mattered. She had suffered a massive stroke. She was gone and there was no gaping hole in his life, no heart-stopping grief. God, Sandra deserved better.
After Sandra’s death, her mother had come to help and ended up staying.
Ron often worried out loud that the house and kids were too much for her. Each time, Gram patted his cheek and said, “My dear, the cleaning service does most of the work and the children keep me young.”
Then there was Tony. No women trailing behind this time. He showed up within hours of Sandra’s death and took over, uncharacteristically quiet, helping to soften the shock for Tia and Brad, working efficiently to arrange the funeral, saying little with words but everything with actions. During those first few days, when the kids weren’t glued to Ron, he found them with Tony, hanging on to his hand or curled up asleep beside him on the sofa.
And Jamie. She brought love and gentle reminiscing to the dark hours of funeral arrangements. She was an actress he had worked with and liked enormously. Sandra had liked her too. She had taken the five month pregnant Jamie under her wing when her husband left her.
On the first anniversary of Sandra’s death Gram took the kids to New York to visit his parents. Left alone, Ron brooded and paced. Then Tony showed up with two bottles of scotch. The usual voluble Tony was quiet as he listened to Ron pour his heart out and cry. “I don’t think I ever really loved Sandra. Not enough anyway.” She wasn’t an obsession.
“Listen Ron, I’m no expert, but I do know you. You loved Sandra in your own way and made her happy. Mourn her, but don’t pile on unnecessary guilt.”
Tony poured another drink and another and eventually put Ron to bed.
For the last couple of years Gram and the kids had joined Tony and Jamie in encouraging him to date. Tony was always trying to hook him up with one lady or another. The most recent was an actress named Rita. She had a bit part in a daytime soap. She was serious, too intense at times, but generally easy to be around.
And now, there was Em.