Family Family by Laurie Frankel

Author:Laurie Frankel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co.

2009

Tech week was full of disasters.

“They always seem worse than they are,” Ajax said when he checked in to see how it was going.

Half the beds’ trapdoors refused to open, leaving dozens of wiggling husbands tossing red ribbon in death throes not choreographed beyond the fifteen-second mark. Aegyptus’s cassock caught fire with Aegyptus inside. He was fine, but everyone became skittish and self-conscious around the open flames.

“Probably a good thing,” Ajax suggested.

The sieves in the finale drained too quickly and flooded the stage, and Athena sprained her ankle slip-sliding into the boat, a boat which shouldn’t have been onstage at that moment anyway but was stuck, a boat which, when it became unstuck, snapped three of its oars, one of which ripped a giant gash through Aegyptus’s backup cassock.

“That is why you have tech week,” Ajax said.

“In college,” India began, “tech week is more like—”

“Welcome to the big leagues, kid.” And then, pleased with himself, “Ooh, a sports reference.”

It was in the held breath between previews and opening night that India understood at last what it meant to be a parent. She had created this child, loved and nurtured it, coaxed its development, strengthened its heart, and ironed its core. Served as its center and also built her life around it. And now, now she had no choice but to send it into a cruel, unsafe world where she could neither control nor protect it. If they didn’t open, they kept the play in their hands, kept rehearsing, improving, fixing, refining. But once they let an audience in, no matter how good the production was, it would be misunderstood, the work and love that went into it discounted, its art disregarded, harsh words uttered against it, hearts hardened to their gift. And she did not think she could bear it.

But opening night would come anyway. She knew this. It always did. For the whole last week of previews, the first thing she did every morning was rewrite the email to Davis inviting him to come. “I miss you. I’m better now. I’m changed. Everything’s changed.” All true, none quite the point she wanted to make. “Just come. Come and then you’ll see, you’ll know” was closer. But really it was beyond her or, she suspected, anyone’s ability to put into words. “I’ve left a ticket for you at the box office” was maybe the romantic, dramatic approach, and that seemed what was called for. But before she could convince herself to press Send, a knock on her dressing room door:

“These came for you.” The AD held a bouquet of flowers almost too big to carry. “You know you’re a star when you’re getting flowers before we’re even open.”

The note read:

Step #1: Tear up card

Step #2: Throw over head

Love, Rob (bie) (Brighton)

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