Hearing my phone ring, I rush over to it, hoping to hear Richard say ‘December Fools,’ and tell me this is some kind of sick prank he’s playing on me and that he’s really loading the car up downstairs. Unfortunately it’s not Richard. Oh how I wish it were the cheating liar. I listen to the ringing phone for a few seconds more, debating if I really want to answer.
“Hey Mom,” I say in the most upbeat tone. If she hears a crack in my voice, she’ll know something is up and hold it against me for the rest of my life.
“Hey, honey! Just calling to see if you two hit the road yet…”
Glancing out of my kitchen window down to the street, I see where Richard’s car was previously parked. Nothing but an emptied space. “Uh—yup. Richard just pulled the car out of the parking structure.”
“Oh, he’s driving? Wonderful. You know how your driving gets on icy roads.” Insult number one: check. “Let me speak to him really fast. I want to know if he wants chicken or fish for Christmas Eve dinner. Tonight I think we’ll just have the homemade pizzas. So let me ask him.”
“Fish. He wants fish, Mom.”
“Any allergies? Let me speak to him.”
“Nope, no need to talk to him. He’s as healthy as a fox and allergy free!”
“Lord, Julie. You could have let me speak to him on my own. You do know that at one point he’ll have to talk to us, seeing how he’ll be standing in front of us in a few hours.”
No. He won’t.
“I know, Mom. It’s just, he’s driving.”
“Your sister and Danny arrived earlier. To tell you the truth, Lisa didn’t think you were really bringing a guy. For awhile, I agreed.” Insult number two: check.
“Gee, thanks. Well, for your information, we are on our way right now.” Oh my gosh. I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t have a boyfriend!
“Well, I’m glad. Little Olivia could really use a cousin sometime soon. Your eggs aren’t getting any younger, and I really hope you will look into that email I sent you about freezing them.”
Ding ding ding! We have a winner! Three insults in less than three minutes! Somebody get the lady a prize!
“Oh?! What’s that, Mom?! I’m losing you!” Covering the receiver I make the best static sounds known to mankind. “We—in—tunnel. See—later. B—y—e.” Hitting end on a telephone call never felt so good. Then it sets in. I told Mom that Richard wanted fish, which he doesn’t. He doesn’t want anything other than Hanna and her nonexistent babies. I hate Hanna and her nonexistent babies.
“Breathe… Just breathe…” I fall to the floor and do some major rocking back and forth, gasping for air, grasping for answers. “What am I going to do? What am I going to?” My eyes move to the paperwork I brought in from the agency and I pause. And this wave of energy rocks through my spirit, sending me powerful bursts of a plan. Maybe I am Einstein!
“Jules! What are you doing back here?” Stacey asks, following my fast pace into the front lobby with all of the actors.
“Richard broke up with me to marry his girlfriend of four years.” I mutter and the look of non-shock from Stacey pierces me. “What?! You saw this coming?”
“Well, not exactly this. But, you do have a history of picking up losers.”
I don’t reply because she’s not wrong. She sounds just like Eddie. “Anyway, I need help. I need to steal an actor.”
Stacey raises an eyebrow, placing both of her hands under her ever-growing belly. “What do you mean you need to steal an actor?”
“No time to explain.”
“Okay, whatever. I have to go get food before I burn this place down and eat people’s ankles, but first, feel that.” She grabs my hands and places them on her stomach, where a weird vibration happens. I try my best not to make a grossed-out face, but I can’t help it. That felt freaking nasty. Stacey nods. “I know right? The joys of pregnancy.”
With that, she turns away and wobbles out of the building. Going back to the front lobby, I walk in front of all of the male actors in the room and stand up on one of the chairs. “I am in need of an actor for a five-day trip to my parents’ cabin to pretend to be my boyfriend.”
The room is filled with silence, all types of green, blue, and brown eyes staring at me with the blankest of blank expressions.
“I’ll pay you one thousand dollars to be my made-up boyfriend. Five days.”
Crickets. Freakin’ A! “Okay, let’s be honest shall we? There’s a .00005 chance that you will land the role for Fresh toothpaste today. This dude over here has eyebrows that are too caterpillar-like. This kid looks like he’s fifteen. And you”—I point to the guy in the corner, giving me a rude look— “you have a nose that would only be featured in a sinus and cold commercial. So if you want to pass up an opportunity to get paid money for eating cookies, opening presents, and hating my sister, then fine. Pass it up. But truthfully, one thousand dollars for acting is more than some of you will make in a year.”
A guy in the back says something, but I can’t see or hear him. I clear my throat, and stand on my tiptoes. “Who said something?”