Page 894 of One More Kiss

Epilogue

On opening night,Lu was always violently ill. By closing night, a week later, her nerves settled and nothing bothered her. The performances had run smoothly, with nary a glitch.

Max and Clyde had resolved their differences, and in a few weeks Clyde was heading west to California, to work at the film school at which Max had briefly taught.

All was good.

Max’s peculiar behavior, however, indicated something was amiss.

And by the final act of the play, things had grown downright bizarre.

Betty sat Lu in the make-up chair, despite Lu’s protestations she needed to be stage right to cue anyone who forgot their lines.

“No one has forgotten all week, but if they do, Clyde is there with script in hand. Sit.”

Betty thumped Lu on the head, and so she sat as her assistant applied stage make-up to her face, pulled up her hair, and then insisted she change into costume.

“Costume? I’ll have you tell me right now, what is going on?”

“No, no, no. Just do it. Please. For the sake of everyone working on this production.”

Lu acquiesced, still concerned about everyone’s off-putting behavior. But it was the final night, and Lu assumed this was some odd Hollywood thing Max was forcing them to do on closing night.

She approached the stage, and Max stood in the opposite wing, in costume and stage makeup himself.

As Hero’s lines, “And here's another, writ in my cousin's hand, stolen from her pocket,

containing her affection unto Benedick” faded, Max strode onto the stage and held out his hand in Lu’s direction. “A miracle! here's our own hands against our hearts. Come, I will have thee; but, by this light, I take thee for pity.”

She stumbled onto the stage, automatically reciting Beatrice’s response: “I would not deny you; but, by this good day, I yield upon great persuasion; and partly to save your life,

for I was told you were in a consumption.”

Max grabbed hold of her hand, pulling her into his engulfing embrace. “Peace! I will stop your mouth.”

He grinned, then broke the fourth wall and spoke directly to the audience. “But first, the ring.”

He knelt at Lu’s feet and held his hand back. Claudio placed a stone-encrusted band in his palm.

“What the hell, Max?” Lu gritted through a smile she’d plastered on.

“Marry me, fair lady, and make me a happy man for the rest of our lives.”

“That’s not part of the play.” Lu’s stomach flopped around.

“No. This isn’t the play. Marry me,” he whispered.

“I can’t Max. I just can’t.”

Everyone from the backstage to the back of the theater gasped, and Max blanched.

“I’m joking. Of course, you idiot, of course I’ll marry you. Did you ever think the answer would be anything but yes?”

She knelt beside him, and he placed the ring on her finger. Then he picked her up and carried her offstage to great applause. When the din died down, the regular cast resumed their roles and finished out the last lines of the play.

Max pressed her against the brick wall backstage, and wagged a finger at her. “You had me going for a moment. Don’t do that again. My poor heart can’t take it.”

Lu slid her hands along his strong arms. “If your heart can take what I did to you last night, Mr. Fischer, surely it can take a pinch of jesting.”

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