Page 44 of Intermission
I’m such an idiot. Such. An. Idiot! Why did I build up that kiss so much in my head?
Kiss? Ha! That wasn’t a kiss. That was counting, with timed lip-contact and an audience. And it’s hardly worthy of the smattering of applause coming from our cast members in the audience.
Inwardly cringing, I return to the stage for critique.
“Better,” Dr. Hitchings says. “Still a little stiff. I want more. More! Again, from the top.”
Deep breath in, out.I am Liesl Von Trapp.I’m innocent, but I am no angel.
When I open my eyes, I’m seeing Rolf, not Noah. When I kiss Rolf, I put my arms around his neck and press that kiss on him with gusto—as Liesl, not Faith.
“Nowthat’swhat I’m talking about!” Dr. Hitchings exclaims. “One more time!”
We reset. By the fourth time through, the rest of the cast has departed for the evening. The next “one more time” is literal, and this time, I’m confident we nailed it. The only people left in the audience are Dr. Hitchings, sitting in the front row, and his wife, on piano, but both are beaming.
We are dismissed, and my adrenaline—or whatever chemical causes breathless butterfly sensations—crashes. I’m exhausted. Elated. Embarrassed. Spent.
Noah needs to talk to Dr. Hitchings about next week’s practice schedule. Not looking forward to introducing my backside to thethorough chill of Eliza’s cracked leather upholstery, I find Noah’s coat and dig the keys out of the pocket. For once, I’m the one being chivalrous. Eliza won’t be fully warmed by the time he comes out, but at least she’ll be nearer the door.
Outside the Opera House, I pace, blowing into my cupped gloves while waiting for Noah to finish talking with Dr. Hitchings inside—and for Eliza to warm up enough that the heat vents can blow something warmer than the frigid January air. Hearing Noah’s laugh, I turn toward the Opera House. He’s just outside the door, talking with the director and his wife as they lock up.
“Oh, you’re still here, Madeleine?” Nancy Hitchings calls with a smile. “Were you waiting forme?”
Her tone tells me she’s kidding. “Sorry, but no. I’m waiting for my carpool buddy. It’s quite a commute from Kanton to Leopold, you know. Ride-sharing is a must.”
“Indeed,” Nancy laughs and pulls her coat tighter. “You should have warmed up the car for her, Noah! It’s freezing out here!”
I point to Eliza, humming loudly at the curb. “No worries. I swiped his keys and brought the car up. But the seats were so cold that I thought I’d be warmer out here, walking around.”
“You’re probably right.” Noah grimaces. “It takes a while for the old clunker’s heat to kick in.”
“I’m looking forward to a warm fire and a cup of tea when I get home.” Nancy gives a “brrrrr!”and a full-body rhumba-dance shiver. “What do you say, Maestro? Shall we let these fine young actors take their leave of us?”
“We shall, indeed. Thanks for agreeing to a Friday night practice, kids. I know you would rather be at the movies or a ballgame or something.”
Is he kidding? I’m doing theatre. With Noah Spencer. There is nowhere I’d rather be.
“I appreciate your dedication. And that you take direction so well,” Dr. Hitchings adds. “Not everyone does, you know.”
“No problem.” Noah waves it off.
“You kids have a safe drive home now.”
“Will do.” When we reach the bottom steps, Noah puts his arm around my shoulders. “Sorry Eliza’s such a cold-hearted beast.”
“Aw, she’s not so bad. I hope you don’t mind about the key-swiping. I probably should have asked...”
“No, I’m grateful.” He gives me a wide smile and tugs me to his side. “Practice went well tonight, don’t you think?”
A hint of heat stings the cold tips of my ears. “Mm-hmm. After a while.”
“Yeah. That first time through was a little... rough.”
Kill. Me. Now. “Yeah.”
I pause at the curb for Noah to open the car door and remind myself—again—that it wasn’t me kissing Noah. It was Liesl kissing Rolf. But regardless of his arm around my shoulders or the way I fit so perfectly snuggled into his side, I’m not sure which way we’re leaning on this narrow ledge between friendzone and romance.
But he likes me. Very much.
