11
Garrick
“THANK YOU FOR squeezing me in today, Mr. Woods. I really appreciate your time.” He stood from behind his massive black desk, and came around to meet me.
“Nonsense. Anything for the Taylors. I’m just glad you decided to reconsider. You’ll call me after you’ve talked to your fiancée?”
“Yes sir. I’ll talk to her tonight.”
“Fantastic. I think this could be a really good match, Garrick.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”
A knot sat heavy in my stomach as I entered the elevator, and rode down the thirty-seven floors back down to the lobby. It had started yesterday when I’d called to set up the interview, and now it felt like it took up my entire midsection. Maybe it had actually started on the Eye. Or when Bliss took that first test, which had been negative. I’d almost canceled the appointment, but the instructions on the pregnancy test box suggested taking multiple tests, so I’d gone out to get another one.
That one had been positive.
Bliss took two more this morning, both negative, and we eventually decided that we were just testing too early. She wasn’t sure exactly how many days she was late, but she guessed just a few, and everything we saw on the Internet suggested testing after a week.
So we decided to wait.
That seemed to be a staple in our relationship.
But whether she was pregnant or not, that didn’t change the facts.
She was about to be my wife. We didn’t have the money for a child any more than we had the money for a big wedding or a honeymoon. Neither of us had health insurance.
I loved acting, but how was I any different from my father if I chose to do that over providing for my family?
When Bliss had met me out on that empty stage after that performance of Pride and Prejudice and I’d gotten down on one knee, everything had changed. She had to be my priority. My job was to take care of her, and if that meant taking a job in London that made more money, then I would do it. Sure it was a job in my father’s world, a world I had never wanted to be a part of, but I knew taking this job would make me different from my father, regardless of whether we appeared the same on the outside.
London had an even better theatre scene than Philadelphia, so Bliss could continue working here, and I’d make enough that she wouldn’t have to work another job, she could just audition. And I . . . I would see her on stage, and that would have to be enough. I’d discovered my talent for theatre because pretending came so naturally to me. It was my way of life growing up. But I’d fallen in love with theatre when I found that it was the only kind of pretending that could also tell a truth. It would hurt to leave that behind, that feeling that I was a part of something bigger, something greater.
I would just have to learn how to find that same feeling in the audience.
Besides . . . marrying Bliss, starting a family, that was my something bigger.
The company would cover our move and health insurance. Baby or not . . . this made sense. It was the right thing to do. The smart thing.
I kept replaying all my reasons as the tube rocked back and forth on the tracks on my way back to Kensington. Bliss was out at her lunch with Mum, but we should be getting home around the same time. I needed to have all my thoughts laid out when I told her.
I wasn’t sure how she’d react to the idea of leaving the States. She’d seemed really excited about coming to London, but visiting and living here were two very different things. But besides a slow start, she’d really held her own here. It was an almost seamless transition, actually. Even better than I’d hoped.
It would be okay. This would make everything okay. And Bliss could stop worrying about the pregnancy because this job would take care of everything. And after a couple years in this job, I could probably find a comparable one back in the States if she wanted to go back.
I arrived back at my parents before Mum and Bliss, and surprisingly met my father on the way in the door.
“Oh Garrick, I’m glad I caught you. I swung by to pick up some things on my lunch. How did the interview go?”
Of course he would know. I hadn’t told anyone, but he must have heard it from Mr. Woods.
“It went well. I’m going to talk to Bliss about it tonight.”
He nodded, pulling his BlackBerry out of his pocket after it buzzed.
“Good.” He started tapping away at a message, and with his head down said, “You’re making the right decision, Garrick. The smart one.”
The knot in my stomach soured as he literally took the words right out of my head.
I wasn’t like my father. We were different. This was different.
He left with one more proclamation that this was the right thing, and I had the massive, empty house alone to fill up with thoughts.
I’d taken a turn of pacing and sitting and stressing in nearly every room in the house by the time Bliss arrived home. It was hours after I expected them, and I was in the dining room, drumming my fingers against the long table, when the front door opened, and I heard laughter.
“Did you see her face? I haven’t laughed so hard in . . . well, decades probably.”
“I thought she was going to murder me, right there in the shop.”
“I thought I was going to lose a lung laughing. You don’t know how much I can’t stand that woman.”
I crossed into the foyer, and Bliss and my mother were smiling like the oldest of friends.
“What have you two been up to all day?” I asked.
Mum waved a hand. “Just causing a bit of mischief. It comes quite naturally to your future wife.”
Of that, I was very well aware.
“And where have you been all this time?”
“Oh, here and there. Don’t worry. I took good care of her. And I was nice, as you put it. To her anyway.”
Bliss laughed, and whatever I was missing, it must have been one hell of a story. And I wanted to hear it . . . later. Right now I had about a thousand things to get off my chest, and I had everything I wanted to say arranged in my mind. I needed to say it before it all came tumbling down like a house of cards.
“I’m glad you two had fun, but can I steal her away for a while?”
“By all means,” Mum said. “Steal away.”
I held Bliss’s hand as we climbed the stairs up to my room. I shook my head, chuckling. “Unbelievable. How do you do it?”
Deadpan, Bliss said, “I knocked down five racks of clothing at some upscale boutique she took me to. Seriously, it was horrifying. The most expensive domino line in the history of the world.”
I burst out laughing.
She said, “That’s about how your mother reacted, too. She was civil before that, but then it was like some kind of flip had switched. We had a blast.”
This was a good sign. A great sign. Maybe she would want to be in London.
“My mother is all work. Today was probably the most fun she’s had in ages.”
“It was good for me, too,” she said. “Listen, I—”
“I need to talk to you about something,” I said.
“Oh.” She frowned. “Of course. Go ahead.”
I sat her on the edge of the bed, and out of habit my eyes went to her midsection. I think I’d looked at her stomach more in two days than in the entirety of our relationship before now.
“I did something today. Something a little crazy.”
“Okay,” she said tentatively, her fists clenched on top of her knees.
I blew out a breath.
“I interviewed for a job.”
“You what?”
“I know, I know.” I paced the length of the carpet in front of her. “I know it’s out of nowhere, but an old boss talked to me about it at the party the other night. I didn’t think anything of it until yesterday, but it solves all of our problems. The money is great, and they’ll pay for us to relocate. We’ll have health insurance to cover the birth. We’ll be able to afford to live in a very safe part of the city with good schools. You can audition here, and you won’t have to worry about working any other jobs.”
“You interviewed for a job here in London without telling me?”
“I haven’t accepted it.”
“You sure as hell better not have accepted it.”
I was mucking this up completely. I forced myself to stop pacing and kneel in front of her on the bed.
“I know this is a lot. I’m only asking you to think about it, to think of all the problems it could solve.”
“What about all the problems it creates? I’m already booked for a show in the fall.”
“You’d have to give that show up if you’re pregnant anyway. You’d be showing by then.”
She stood, and then it was she who started pacing.
“We don’t even know if we’re pregnant yet. You want to uproot our entire life on a possibility?”
I took hold of her elbows and said, “No. No, of course not. We can wait to answer until next week, until we know for sure. But even if you’re not pregnant, Bliss, you might be someday. This job is a rare opportunity. Most people have to work their way up for years to get this kind of job.”
“And what kind of job is it?”
“What do you mean?”
She gripped my shoulders like she wanted to shake me. “What will you be doing? You love theatre. You said it made you grow up. It led you to me. You’re going to leave that for what? A job behind a desk?”
“I love you, more than I’ve ever loved acting.”
She pulled her elbows out of my grasp and threw up her arms.
“What does that have to do with any of this?”
“Bliss, I’m doing this for you. For us.”
“Well, stop.”
I shook my head. “What?”
“You heard me. Stop. I didn’t ask you to do any of this.”
“You don’t have to ask.” I dragged a thumb across her jaw. “I just think it’s time for a bit of realism. It would be stupid not to take this job.”
“I’m hearing a lot of stupid things at the moment.”
Okay. So she wasn’t excited about the idea of living in London.
“Damn it, Bliss. We need this. I’m trying to grow up, to get a real job, and be an adult about all this.”
“Being an adult doesn’t mean you change everything about yourself. You were an adult already without this fancy job and the money.”
“But now I can be an adult that can provide for you.”
“You already provide all I need. You said we needed a dose of realism?”
“Yes. We do.”
I could see that now.
“You said almost the same thing to me on the first night we met, on the night we kissed. We were talking about theatre, about Shakespeare.”
“Bliss—”
“I never would have even stopped at that table if you hadn’t been reading those plays. We would have met for the first time as teacher and student, and nothing would have happened between us. We might not have fallen in love if you hadn’t been the assistant director for Phaedra. You proposed to me on stage, Garrick. Our whole life is theatre. The love we have is because of theatre. I associate all of our greatest moments with a play. If we’d thought about what was safe or smart when we met, we wouldn’t be together today. And you’ll always be the man that encouraged me to follow through on my dreams, the man that taught me how to make the bold choices and go after what I wanted. You said you weren’t like your father. He’s supposed to be the one whose primary concern is money.”
“The money is just a means to an end. You and the baby are my priority.”
“If you really want to do something for me, you’ll turn down this job.”
“Bliss, just think about it.”
“I am thinking about it. I’m thinking about how I fell in love with a man who told a classroom full of seniors that the hardest thing about this life isn’t landing roles or having enough money. It’s keeping up your spirit and remembering why we chose theatre in the first place. So take your own advice, Garrick. You could have had this life all those years ago, but you didn’t want it. You wanted something different. Something better. And either you still want that other life, that life with me. Or you don’t. But I would leave before I’d let you ruin your own dream.”
The silence detonated in my ears. My heart was raging in my chest, and I felt like my ribs were going to crack if it beat any harder. I couldn’t lose her. I wanted her more than I wanted anything else. She eclipsed every dream, every desire, every doubt.
“Bliss—”
“I mean it, Garrick. I appreciate what you’re doing, and I get it. I love you for being willing to do this, but it’s not worth it. Not if you stop being you.”
She took my hand and pressed it to her stomach. “If we did have a child, and he came to you with something like this, would you tell him to take the money, to take the job that didn’t mean anything? Why am I even asking, I know what you’d say. You’d tell him to do the thing he loved, the thing that made him feel more alive. Life’s too short to waste time living it any other way.”
She was right.
Damn it. She was right.
The knot in my stomach loosened, and I released a heavy breath.
“How is it that you know me even better than I know myself?”
“Because I love you.”
My heart sprinted, and the force of each beat drew me closer to her. Every time she said those words . . . every time it felt like the first time. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled until I had her feet dangling off the floor. I kissed the corner of her jaw and returned the words.
“But if we’re pregnant . . . there are so many things we’ll have to overcome. It’s going to be hard with our lifestyles.”
She threaded her fingers through my hair and said, “Your mother took me to see a friend of hers who’s a doctor.”
I met her gaze, and set her feet back on the floor. “You told my mother?”
She shrugged. “That woman has a way of prying out my secrets.”
“And?”
“And I’m not pregnant.”
I swallowed, my stomach twisting with a combination of emotions, too vast for me to really identify.
“You’re not?”
She shook her head. “The doctor said she thinks it’s probably just stress that’s thrown off my cycle. Probably the combination of all the work and thinking about meeting your family.”
My heartbeat was slow, but loud in my ears.
“So . . . so we don’t have to worry about any of those things.”
“Not now, no.”
For the life of me, I couldn’t tell if I was disappointed or relieved. Not about the baby. The job though . . . that felt like I was a hundred times lighter.
“You okay?” she asked.
I kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose, followed by her lips. I absorbed the calm from her warm skin, breathed in the balance from her closeness. I said, “Yes. I’m more than okay.”
She nodded. Her expression was just as hard to read, and I got the feeling that she was just as confused about how she felt as I was.
“Garrick? One more question.”
“Anything.”
Her smile widened, brilliant and beautiful. All her confusion disappeared.
“Marry me?”
Half a dozen responses flitted through my mind, from simple to snarky. But there was one thing that would always be true about me. I preferred action to words.
So, I pulled her close and answered her as thoroughly as I could.