Page 47 of The Fadeaway
“What does Hector see?”
I shift my focus, imagine myself staring down at Imelda from Hector’s point of view. “He sees a young woman that is fiery and determined. He’s drawn to her beauty and spirit, wants to write music about her and the way she makes him feel.”
“And how does she make him feel?”
“Alive,” I whisper. “Like life never really mattered until now.”
“And Imelda?”
My mouth pulls into a smile as I picture the lovable Hector. “That’s easy. Imelda is drawn to his charm. He makes her lighter and reminds her to stop and smell the roses.”
I open my eyes, feeling the magic of the extraordinary world I’ve created colliding with real life. Joel’s smile is exactly how I picture Hector’s in this first scene and if my insides match the outside, then I’m looking at him just like Imelda looked at her man.
The lights on the stage dim breaking the magic. “Looks like they’re closing up for the night.”
He drops my hands and steps back. “It’s gonna be great, Kitty.”
We gather our things and he leads me through the theater and outside.
“Thank your mom for me. The questions she answered were really helpful.”
He waves me off. “She was happy to do it.”
We’re quiet for a moment as I struggle to stop thinking about the play. I want it to be perfect. Something that I did all on my own and against all odds.
“I know you said you got the idea from your son, but what was it that inspired you to write a tragic love story? Aren’t chicks into happily ever after?”
I smile. “The scene in Coco where Imelda sings. Their story is tragic, but it’s also so beautiful to think that love can conquer anything. Even death.”
“That’s beautiful.”
I shrug. “Well it’s just a story, but it’s nice to dream about.”
“You don’t believe love can conquer anything?”
“Let’s say I’m skeptical. What about you?”
“Love conquering death? No.” He shakes his head. “But I try and live my life in a way that makes conquering death unnecessary.”
Such a Joel answer. Yolo. Except that expression only works when you’re brave and cocky enough to go after everything you want.
“Is Christian excited about the play?”
“He doesn’t totally understand, but he’s excited that I’ve allowed him to watch Coco a handful more times this month while I was trying to get the script just right.”
Talking about Christian, even in passing, feels so strange. I can’t remember the last time a guy my age made any effort to ask about him. And I never bring him up because that scares guys off faster than I can get his name out.
“And Christian’s father, is he the reason you kept turning me down?”
A laugh filters out into the night as we reach our cars, parked side by side in the lot. Mine reliable and practical and Joel’s Tesla flash and arrogance. Tonight I get to ditch practicality and pretend I belong in his world.
“No.” I tilt my head up and watch the way his face reacts to the news. Is it delight or surprise that I see? “We aren’t together. Never really were.”
“I see.” He runs his tongue over the front of his teeth and looks out over the deserted parking lot.
“Well—”
“So why then?”
