Page 29 of A Very Friendly Valentine's Day
It is my lady, O, it is my love!
O, that she knew she were!
She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?
Her eye discourses; I will answer it.
I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright
That birds would sing and think it were not night.
See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!”
After a silent moment, the dining room breaks out in applause, and I realize I’m down on one knee by Birdie’s side. Her eyes are watery. Her lower lip is quivering.
Boom.
And that’s how you dothat.
I stand and bow to my audience—house left, house right, center. I do a little flourish for the girl who’s holding up her camera. Then I sit back down in front of Birdie, who hasn’t taken her eyes off me. Her face is flushed, her eyes are wide and she is so beautiful right now.
I’m feeling all the things right now.
I’m feeling so much love for her right now.
But it’s just the writing.
Fuck you, Billy Shakespeare. Don’t fuck with my friendship.
“Hi—excuse me—hi.” It takes me a second to realize the lady with the black hair and red lipstick is standing by our table, and I only realize it because Birdie is looking up at her.
“Hey.”
“You’re Eddie Cannavale, right?” She holds out a business card. “I’m Debra Silver.”
Shit. I know that name. She’s one of the big casting directors. “Yeah, hi.” I hold out my hand to shake hers. “Nice to meet you. This is my friend Birdie.”
“Hey.” She nods at Birdie and doesn’t even smile at me once. “That was quite a little performance just now. I didn’t know you did Shakespeare.”
“Oh well, you know. Only on special occasions. Like dinner.”Nailed it.
