Page 68 of Forget About Me

“So, what?”

“Should we read it?”

Clasping my hands on the top of my head, I search the tiled ceiling for an answer. Good or bad, reviews can be a distraction.

The call-board’s at the other end of the room. A newspaper clipping’s taped to the painted concrete wall right next to it. I can’t quite identify the typeface from here. “Is it theGlobe?”

She squints at it. “I think so.” Facing me again, hands on hips and head tilted, she says, “Maybe better to read it now so we can digest it and not be distracted right before the show?”

I nod slowly. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“Alright. Let’s do it. One, two, three… go!”

I yelp when she tags me but put my all into the race, and Puck does, too. Bella brings out the kid in everybody. Side by side, we slide to a stop, each of us bracing an arm on the wall, framing the clipping. Puck stands on his hind legs as if he wants to read it.

Bella takes a deep breath and begins to read in a news-anchor voice. “‘Shakespeare Boston delights with a fun and freshTwo Gentlemen of Verona, its first indoor production since the company’s inception five years ago. Director Nick’—blah, blah, blah, let’s skip to the important stuff: us. Uh, here we are. ‘Shakespearean fools Launce (Benedick Porter) and Speed (Isabella York, cast against gender and type) take the show on a vaudeville turn. Crisp, clown-like renderings of the scenes delight. Porter is almost unrecognizable, and some fans will likely be disappointed to hear that his famous physique is not on display.’”

I groan. “Will I ever live that down?”

She covers my mouth with a hand. “Shush, there’s more. ‘Kudos to the animal trainer credited in the program, Lucy Minola. The scenes that include Launce’s dog Crab are a highlight of the show. The interaction between man and beast are organically woven into the dialogue, resulting in rollicking laughter from the audience.’” She dips her chin. “Lucy’ll be happy, huh?”

“Yeah, she’ll probably get a fresh round of clients from this.”

I drag a finger down the rest of the review, scanning it quickly. “Pretty good all around. Phew. Congrats.”

“You too.” She holds up a hand for a high five. “We’d better get to work. Now the audience is gonna have expectations.”

“Ugh. You’re right. Sometimes that’s worse.”

Even with taking time to read the review, we manage to run through our scenes twice before the other actors trickle in. I talk Will and Randall and Jess into running lines as well, which keeps me busy right up until it’s time to get into costume.

When I take Puck out for a walk just before the show starts, the pay phone by the back door is a reminder that I should call Lucy to tell her about the review.

Or maybe I’ll surprise her with a copy on my way home tonight instead.

It’s after ten by the time I get to the Minolas’. Not sure what my plan is. Throw rocks at Lucy’s window? There are lights on inside. Maybe she’s still up?

After knocking as softly as I can a few times, I’m about to give up and head home when the door opens.

It isn’t Lucy, though. It’s her mom. “Ben? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, Mrs. Minola. I hope I didn’t disturb you or anything.” I hold up a photocopy of the review. “I just wanted to give this to Lucy. She got another good mention in the paper. Lights were on, so?—?”

“Come on in sweetie, it’s too cold to stand here. It went from summer to winter in just a couple of days.” She shivers, wrapping her cardigan more tightly around her slight frame. “You too, little dog.”

The house is quiet. “Are you sure?”

“Everyone else is asleep, but I needed to finish some paperwork. Have some tea with me.”

I follow her to the warm kitchen, and she waves in my direction as she lights a burner and pulls down some boxes of tea. “Sit down.” She points at Puck, who is sniffing at the back door. “You too, dog.” He sits immediately, and she smiles. Eyes back on me, she says, “I think it’s time you called me Sofia.”

My head shakes involuntarily. “Really? That just feels… wrong.”

She nods slowly before tipping her head to the side, a wistful smile crinkling her beautiful face. “Unless you want to call me Mom?”

I always wanted to call her Mom. Wished that she was my mom. But I can’t go down that path. I’m sleeping with her daughter outside of marriage, something no Catholic parent would be happy about. But there’s more. I have to tell her, and not just as practice for telling Lucy.

She sets a china teacup in front of me, and it clinks softly as the cup shifts in the saucer. “Chamomile? Peppermint? Both?”

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