Page 66 of What I'm Looking For

“I gotta drive home and the kid wakes me up early. Got any soda?”

I hold up diet and regular options.

“Gimme the real thing.” I hand her a can, and she clinks it against my bottle of beer. “Seriously, good job tonight.”

“You too.” I put a hand over my heart. “The expression on your face when you said, ‘Will you be mine, now you are doubly won?’ Man, I felt like a total shit. I was kind of scared of you.”

She laughs. “We have a lot going on in those few lines.” Her hand goes to her abdomen. “If it were my real belly you were touching and not the pregnancy pad when you said, ‘If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly,’ I would’ve slapped it right off.”

“We should add that. It’d make your anger even clearer.” I take a long swallow before turning back to the fridge to pull out the dips, setting them beside the bowls of chips. “I’m a little nervous for the reviews, though.”

“We can only control what we put out there.” She shrugs. “We can’t control how people receive it.” She picks up the bowls she filled. “Come on, bring the dip and help me celebrate my first opening with Shakespeare Boston.”

I almost bump into her when she stops abruptly halfway down the hall. “Gosh, it’s actually my first opening since I got pregnant for real seven years ago.”

Before I can ask more about that, she dances her way into the living room, chip bowls held high. Furniture’s pushed back to the walls, the stereo’s blasting and Randall’s already doing an imitation of Eva Marie playing the Countess, which has her and everyone else in hysterics.

I watch from the doorway for a few minutes, sipping my beer, but it’s not long before Jess pulls me in and I’m dancing it all out to “Shout,” Otis Day & The Knights bringing out the clowns in all of us.

* * *

After the showthe following night, I creep into Kate’s room as quietly as I can. Unfortunately, I trip on my way to the bed and slam my shin into something. “Ow.”

She sits up, backlit by the streetlamp filtering through the bedroom blinds.

“Sorry,” I whisper.

“S’okay.” Her voice is scratchy and higher pitched than usual. “How was the show?”

I pause at the edge of the bed, feeling awkward all of a sudden. “It was good. Big house. I’m glad you’re feeling better. Do you, uh, need anything?”

Her arms snake out from under the covers to reach toward me. “Just you.”

“Mrroww.” Frankie complains at the disturbance and stalks to the end of the bed.

“Oops.” Her voice is still adorably sleepy.

“Sorry, Frankie, my turn.”

“Frankie’s warm and snuggly, but you’re a bit more fun.”

“Glad to hear it.” I lay down next to her, head propped on a hand. “You’re sure you’re feeling okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry I left like that yesterday. I just felt really bad all of a sudden.” When she turns on her side, her face is in shadow, and I can’t quite read her expression. But her voice is tight. “Alice drove me home, and I was fine today.” She hugs the covers around her shoulders and snuggles into her pillow. “Was the cast party fun?”

“Yeah, it was good. The usual.” I lean over to kiss her cheek. “I missed showing you off, though.”

She squirms. “Liar.”

“Not.” Tom and Jerry’s teasing surfaces in my mind, but I push it aside and pull her over on top of me. An extra deep sigh heaves under my palms. “Is something going on?”

She rests her forehead on my chest. “It’s stupid.”

I smooth her silky hair. “Feeling something is never stupid.”

She sighs again. “I wasn’t reallysickat the play.” With her forehead pressed into my sternum, the vibrations of her voice resonate in my chest. “I was upset and embarrassed and I didn’t want you to see that or ruin the cast party, so I left. At intermission.”

“Upset at me?”

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