If Ever(78)

“I’ve always wanted to travel abroad. I can’t believe I really get to now.”

Suddenly her face falls. I bet she’s thinking about the cost. “Chelsea, don’t worry about the cost of the flight. I’ve got this.”

“It’s not that. I can pay for it, but I don’t have a passport.”

“Oh.” That is a problem. I calculate the number of days until I leave. It’s a little over a week. “I bet we could get you one of those quickie rushed passports.”

“Really? What would I need?”

“A passport photo, which is easy enough; some forms, which we’ll look into as soon as we get back to my flat. We’ll look into what else it takes.” My mind is working a million miles a minute. I can’t believe I get to bring her home. Mum will be so happy.

Once back we huddle around her laptop scanning the U.S. Passport requirements. There are forms to fill out, she’ll need a photo ID and a birth certificate. “Look here. We can expedite it for a substantial rush fee and get it within a week.”

Chelsea bites at her lip. “I don’t have a birth certificate either. I did once, but it got lost with all my moving around.”

“Well, let’s see if we can rush that too.” Where to begin? “What state were you born in?” We scan through the websites to find the information. The red tape is ridiculous, but it appears we could get the paperwork she needs. The question is the timing.

She places her hand on my arm as I’m about to try another site. “It’s okay, Tom. There’s not enough time.”

“There might be,” I say, not ready to throw in the towel.

“Thank you for trying, but we could go through all of this and if even one thing doesn’t go perfectly, I’d be wasting a very expensive airline ticket.”

I lean back in my chair. She’s right. “I’m sorry I didn’t think of inviting you sooner.”

“But you did invite me, and it’s the sweetest thing that’s ever happened to me. Thank you.”

Later she gathers her laptop and calls goodbye as she slips out the door saying she’s going to a coffee shop to work on her resume. I could kick myself for dropping the ball.





26





The next day I still feel like a loser for not being able to bring her home with me, but she kisses me on her way out the door for a job interview at an investment firm. I’m glad she’s got something to focus on that will bring her back to the city.

I kick my trainers aside, but still can’t find the shoes I’m looking for. Why does this happen every time I have an audition? "Ryan, have you seen my Topsiders?"

"Can't help you, man," Ryan says.

"And where the hell did I put that folder of papers? Dammit."

I rifle through the newspapers and magazines on the coffee table. Ryan's lying on the couch watching Say Yes to the Dress. He pulls the folder off the floor next to the coffee table and hands it to me.

"Thanks. You're a lifesaver."

"Hey, Tom, got a sec." He mutes the telly and sits up.

"Sure, man." I spot my shoes in the corner and slip them on.

He scrubs his hand over his face. "I've decided to head back to Kansas City."

I startle and turn to face him. "What?"

"Yeah. I just heard I didn’t get that ensemble part. It was my last hope, and my uncle’s offered me a job at his fencing company."

"Damn, I'm sorry, mate." Ryan wanted this so bad and he's worked his ass off, but it just hasn't happened for him.

"I'll keep trying for regional theatre, but I've come to terms I'm not going to make it in New York."

I sigh. This sucks hard. "When are you leaving?"

Ryan hangs his head. "Tomorrow. I can catch a ride with a friend headed home for the holidays."

"That's fast." I hate to see him go. I've had to say goodbye to too many friends who left the business.

"Yeah. Might as well just rip the bandage off. Right?" He forces a smile. "Listen, I can't thank you enough for all your help. And I'll pay you back the rent money as soon as I'm back on my feet."

"Forget it."

"No. I'm good for it," he says.

"You'd have done the same for me."





That night at the show there's a new guy in the ensemble, Connor. The poor sod is making his Broadway debut, so of course, he's over eager and throwing off the timing. He keeps missing cues and hitting the wrong marks. At intermission I speak to Wes.

"Can you please do something about Connor? He's so high strung he almost fell into the pit during the last scene, not to mention when we rehearsed the fight scene earlier, he called me Mr. Oliver."

Wes laughs. "Poor kid threw up before curtain. I'll tell him to dial it back."

"Thanks."

Paige joins me. "Trouble with the new kid?"

"Yeah. Newbie nerves." We head for the stairs to our dressing rooms.

"Do you remember your first big show?"

"Barely, I was a snot-nosed know it all. You?"

"I was so nervous I didn't eat for two days before. I nearly fainted on stage from low blood sugar." She laughs.