Page 27 of Curtain Call
Riley skipped the part about being scared of ruining a friendship he just got back.
“OK, you’re spinning so slow down. How much help does he need again?”
“More than I have in savings, unfortunately.” Riley sits crisscrossed on the stage floor before stretching out and leaning on his forearms. “It’s close to $10,000 and if he doesn’t get it by the end of the year the bank is going to foreclose.”
“Ouch,” Jax whispers while staring at the stage floor.
They sit in silence for a few minutes.
Jax has seen Riley at his best. They have seen Riley at his worst. Jax knows almost every facial expression Riley makes, including his orgasm face when they walked in on him at the right – nope, wrong – time once when they shared a room in Indianapolis while on tour. Riley wasn’t one to hook up with random guys while on tour like most of the crew, so he took matters into his own hands. Literally. In Riley’s defense, Jax was supposed to be meeting up with an old friend for dinner but came back early when they realized they left their wallet in the room.
But this face. This look that Riley is displaying is one that Jax has not had the chance to encounter. It’s almost a combination of strange energy, deep thought, and love, all mixed together to create this new emotional expression. Jax decides they don’t like it and pulls out their phone and presses a few buttons.
“Hey babe,” Jax says in their stage voice. “I was wondering if you could help me with a little ‘save the arts’ project here in Boston.”
A few mumbled sounds come from Jax while Riley keeps trying to get their attention through multiple random facial expressions and hand gestures. Jax ignores him and walks to the other side of the stage for privacy but still within earshot of Riley.
“I have an idea but will need some things from our secret storage. Can I call you later with the details? …and this is why I adore you. Call ya later to fill ya in. Bye, babe.”
Jax swipes up on their phone and places it back in their pocket.
“Hey, Jessica,” Jax calls off to the other side of the stage where Jessica is talking to the theater’s general manager. “Can I run something by you after we’re done rehearsing today?”
“Of course,” she yells back toward Jax with a wink before returning to her conversation.
“Can you fillmein, please?” Riley interjects nervously waiting on what’s bouncing around Jax’s head.
“Nope. You helped me with all this,” Jax opens his arms out and spins showing off the stage as if they were in the Sound of Music spinning on a mountainside, “so let Auntie Jax do this for you.”
Riley was not good about being left in the dark. He also wasn’t good about waiting. Waiting on what hopefully would be a miracle.
“Besides, I don’t want to get your hopes up yet because it may not work. But I will try my hardest to help you out, and I’ll fill you in once I talk to Jessica and get more details. I promise.”
Riley stands and gives Jax a big hug.
“And this is why you’re my best friend,” Riley whispers in Jax’s ear.
On cue, the kids pour back onto the stage while Riley and Jax take their positions downstage center.
Colin
Walking into the concert hall early, Colin pulls up a chair that was stacked loosely against the back wall. There is a crew wiping down small tables and setting up the orchestra floor for the upcoming performances. The setup looks different for the Holiday Pops events than a traditional night. Other staffers are bringing in boxes stacked on dollies.
Colin remembers the same gesture a few days ago at his own little theater when they decorated his lobby for the holidays. His little theater hasn’t looked that nice in years, and it felt like old times. The time when his family was all together, and the holidays felt like they were the holidays. Colin has a tinge of hope that having Riley and Mac around to help decorate the theater will become a new tradition.
On stage, Riley is talking to a thin person around his same height that uses their hands to talk. The movements are almost mesmerizing. Colin figures that the way they are comfortable with each, it must be his friend Jax that Riley mentioned. Riley is all smiles and not his stage smile either. Something knots up in Colin’s stomach.
Riley is standing center stage with his back toward the open hall. The kids are in awe of him and hanging on to his every word. Colin is too far away to make out what is being said, but he can hear his voice. His tenor tone is music to Colin’s ears, and he instantly feels at ease.
Music starts.
Jingle Bell Rock blasts through the speakers and the kids begin following the choreography of Riley and Jax. The two of them have been dancing together for some time because the way they move together is captivating. In sync. Riley lights up the stage with his twenty backup dancers. Any stage is his home. He looks so comfortable up there and the kids are watching his every move. He would make a good teacher, or father, someday.
When the song finishes, the kids hold their ending pose to wait for the imaginary applause to die down. They stand, practice their bow and scream with excitement that they finished the routine. They too were in sync with Riley and Jax. They are so innocent and full of life. Riley picks up a clipboard from the stage floor and calls them into center stage for a class huddle.
Jax joins them and puts his arm around Riley. Again, Colin can’t hear what he is saying but definitely doesn’t like someone else’s arm around Riley and begins making his way toward the stage.
“And that’s rehearsal,” Riley tells the kids. “Fantastic job. Now go find your adults.”
