If Ever(80)

"Here's the address of the dentist that'll see you tonight. Do you have someone to go with you?" He leans against my dressing table.

"I'll take him," Tanya says. "If you don't mind waiting until the show's over, I can change quick."

Janet cracks open the ice pack and shakes it, then hands it to me, hiding a smirk.

"I can take you," says a familiar voice from the doorway.

I swing around and there’s Chelsea out of breath and filled with concern, but looking like a ray of sunshine on this shitstorm of a day.

"Where'd you come from?" I mumble, my mouth half stuffed with the towel.

Wes heads for the door. "Give me a call and let me know what's going on as soon as you know. Don't worry how late it is."

Chelsea blushes. "You know."

Of course, she was in the audience. At this rate she’s going to go broke buying tickets.

Tanya, who is lingering next to me, rolls her eyes. Janet smiles. I pull the towel away and find the bleeding has subsided. The cold must help. "Good thing, cuz I need a new toof." I smile, revealing the gaping hole in my mouth.

"Ouch!" She flinches. "You sure you're okay?" She's at my side patting my shoulder, her brow furrowed.

"I've been better."

"Come on, Tanya. He’s in good hands." Janet practically drags Tanya to the door.

I gaze up at Chelsea. "You get to be my babysitter for the evening."

"More likely your nurse maid," she says.

"Oh? I could get into that." I laugh, which tugs at my swollen lip and starts it bleeding again.

Tanya huffs as Janet pulls the door closed behind them.

"Is it just me, or does that woman hate me?" Chelsea stares at the door.

"She's harmless. Can you give me a hand, please?"

“Sure, but if you ask me, I’d say she’s making a play for you.”

“But I only have eyes for you.” Chelsea helps me off with my shirt. I clean the blood off my face and hands, change into street clothes, and drape my bloodied costume over a chair. I consider calling my agent, but decide to wait until I know more. Chelsea slings my backpack over her shoulder while I put on my coat, scarf, and hat. With a fresh wad of tissues in my hand we make our way to the street while the show goes on without me. An experience I despise.

We take the D Train uptown. I lay my head back and try to keep my tongue away from the sharp edge of my broken tooth, but it naturally finds its way there. My mind flits to my schedule for the next few days. Tomorrow is an important call back, I have the show, and I need to learn sides for the next two auditions. Add to that I need to find Christmas gifts for my entire family and something special for Chelsea.

I'm starting to freak out, but then I look at Chelsea who rushed to my side. I'm a lucky man, and I don't intend to let her get away. And now that I think of it, my trip home couldn't come at a better time and not just for some overdue time off.

The dentist explains that I need a root canal. Fuck. And a crown. Double fuck. The good news is that he'll do the root canal tonight and the crown tomorrow morning.

While my mouth is numbing from a shot of Novocaine, I call Sean to see if we can move my call back. He promises to let me know first thing in the morning.

I call Wes and explain the situation. While the dentist gives me full clearance to be back on stage tomorrow night, Wes insists they can get along without me for one more day, which is a sucker punch on top of the kick to the teeth I already got.

An hour and a half later when I return to the waiting room, a proud survivor of my first root canal, a drowsy-eyed Chelsea waits patiently.

"Let's see?"

I give her a toothless grin.

She cringes. "Where's your new tooth?"

"We figured it wasn't worth the time to build a temporary one when I'll be getting the crown in the morning anyway."

"They can do it that fast?"

"Call it the magic of show business. When money's involved, anything can happen."

The subway is quiet this time of night, mostly shuttling people on their way home from working the late shift. We ride in silence but get off a stop early to hit the all night pharmacy and fill a prescription for painkillers. The moment we're home, Chelsea insists I take a one.

"It's not bad," I say through a numb upper lip.

"And we're going to keep it that way. You need to sleep." She fetches a glass of water.

"But I've gotta get up in the morning to prepare for a meeting."

“Under the circumstances don’t you think you should cancel it?”

“If I can I will, but this is a very important…meeting.”

She sighs and holds out a pill and the glass of water. “Here.”

The next morning Sean calls to say he couldn't change my call back, so I prep for it while on my way to the dentist. By the time I arrive at the audition three hours later, my upper lip is tingling as the medication wears off.

I knock out the audition, try to say all the right things to the assembled team, and hope I'm what they're looking for. Whipped, I catch the subway home. If there were frequent flier miles for subway rides, I'd have earned myself a trip around the world by now.





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