Inner Diva (4 page)

“Nice job.” The muffled voice tickled her
ears.

She smiled. “Thanks,” she whispered. “You
promise if I trip and land on my bum, you’ll keep the lights off
till I crawl out of sight?”

A wicked chuckle emerged from the tiny
earpieces in the headset she wore. “Hmmm, what’s it worth to
you?”

Monica stood and parted the heavy curtain
with her fingers. She peeked out through the tiny slit of
illumination and gazed at the lighting booth behind the last row of
theater seats, about a hundred yards away. She couldn’t see Steve,
but she knew he was back there, running the lights. “To not
broadcast my clumsiness to hundreds of theatergoers? Quite a
bit.”

“Sounds like a bit of blackmail is in
order.”

Monica smiled and let the curtain go, her
slice of stage no longer visible. It was okay – she had several
minutes till the end of this scene before she had to demonstrate
her stealth moves again, sprinting out front and straightening up
the set in darkness again before the next scene. “What on earth
would you have to blackmail me about?”

A moment of silence indicated he was
considering the question, then his response, “I know one of your
deepest, darkest secrets.”

His good-natured tone cushioned the sinister
words, and she shuddered. “And what would that be?”

“Your dream to be an actress.”

She laughed, then clapped her hand over her
mouth and lowered her voice. “That’s hardly blackmail-worthy.”

“Ahh, but that’s where you’re wrong. I hold
the power right here in my index finger.”

She scoffed into the tiny microphone that ran
from the headset to an inch from her mouth. He wouldn’t dare.

“That’s the finger I use to bathe the stage
in revealing light. I could very easily push the lever just a few
seconds early. Maybe when you’re on your hands and knees, searching
under the couch for a stray pillow?”

She gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

An evil chuckle returned. “Maybe not, but I
could. Why don’t you remove all doubt by making one little
commitment, to buy my trustworthiness?”

She smirked. “What’s the one little
commitment?”

“Go talk to Dave. Tell him you’re interested
in being onstage. You’d be a fantastic actress, I just know
it.”

She sighed. She wanted to visit the theater’s
director. She just hadn’t gotten up the courage. She’d wanted to
audition for a handful of plays over the years; yet, she stayed
backstage, hidden by her props and the security of this heavy
curtain. Her desire to act center stage remained. Why, when she was
terrified at the prospect of being in the spotlight?

“Mon?” The tinny voice persisted. “I’m
serious. Go for it.”

“I don’t know …,” she whispered.

“I do. Do it. Tonight.”

She sighed again, her insides in turmoil.
What was wrong with her? Did she think she didn’t deserve the
spotlight? Was she so comfortable helping everyone else look good
that she’d resigned herself to a lifetime of lurking in the
background?

No. Inside her was a diva who begged to be
released. Steve had faith in her. Why not try it? She’d never know
unless she tried.

“I’ll do it.” Her words were strong and firm.
Determined. “I’ll talk to Dave tonight after rehearsal.”

“Good girl.”

Her heart pounded. She’d made a decision that
could change her life.

Flashbulbs popped, causing her to blink
daintily. Applause followed as she headed toward the auditorium.
“Ms. Lampton, could we have a word?” An interviewer planted on the
carpet near the doorway held out a microphone. Motion cameras
caught every movement.

“
Yes, of course,” she said with a smile
and a glance at her escort. He stopped and scanned the crowd while
she addressed a few questions from the host of some Hollywood talk
show. She answered with gracious responses and then it was time to
move on, find her seat and hope beyond hope they called her name
for the Best Actress award. Her carefully prepared speech lay
folded and tucked into her tiny beaded handbag, although she
wouldn’t need it. She was accustomed to memorizing speeches, and
this was the most important one of her life ….

“Mon? Monica?” The voice in her ear became
more and more urgent. “Are you there?”

Monica shook the cobwebs out of her head and
looked around. Trina and Brad were bustling backstage, arguing
about something. Wait. Trina and Brad were backstage? That meant
…

She darted through the curtain and looked
frantically around. What scene change was it? What was she doing?
“I’m sorry,” she spoke low, for Steve’s ears only.

His chuckle eased her nerves. “Daydreaming
back there, huh?”

She nodded in the darkness and grabbed the
blanket and pillow. Wasn’t there something else she was supposed to
be doing? Oh yeah, she should’ve grabbed the suitcase and brought
it out on stage.

“Give me a second, I forgot something
backstage.” She ran through the curtain, grabbed the suitcase and
darted back onstage.

“Only because of our agreement earlier,”
Steve said with a chuckle.

Monica nodded with a frown. If she didn’t
realize her dream soon, she’d never get anything done.

Carlos sat on the
couch, his nerves jangling. He held the latest
Mechanics
Monthly
in his lap, his shaky fingers making the slick pages
quiver. Irritated, he tossed the magazine aside. Luisa sat at the
table across the room and looked up at him, her eyes popping
wide.

“What?” she asked.

He shook his head. He turned his back to her
and hoped she’d go back to what she’d been doing, the busy little
thing. She was always doing something productive. Reading, writing.
A good student, that one. If she kept it up she’d have no trouble
getting through school. Not like him. His struggles through most
classes produced passing grades at the end of each semester, but
nothing stellar. He was more interested in
las
senoritas
and making discoveries that had nothing to do with
a science lab.

He glanced sideways and caught Luisa out of
the corner of his eye. She’d gone back to gripping a pencil, her
head down as she concentrated on the paper in front of her. That
woman was coming back tonight, to take Luisa out. Mama had approved
it, but he had a thing or two to say about it, too. He didn’t want
Monica Lampton forming a relationship with Luisa, pure and simple.
But his reason had little to do with Monica – not really – and
everything to do with him. He and Mama had argued about it several
times since Monica had entered their lives. To Carlos, it was so
clear, but he couldn’t get Mama to agree.

They were so much alike – Monica and Angela –
at least on the surface. They had similar builds, similar hair.
They were both smart and accomplished women. Beautiful, fun-loving
women, easy to laugh. They both loved children.

And they were both
gringas.

Not that he was prejudiced. He’d dated
non-Hispanics before. Angela was the first one he’d fallen in love
with. He’d never given his heart so completely as he had to Angela.
She’d accepted his ring and with it, his life-long responsibility
to Mama and Luisa. His happiness was without bounds.

Until she announced that she was accepting a
promotion at work; one that would require her to move to the west
coast. “Come with me,” she begged.

“I have to stay. My family is here,” he
replied, feeling his heart crushing inside.

“Bring them. We’ll raise Luisa as our own.
We’ll have other children, too.”

The temptation was intoxicating. He mulled it
over in silence for days. But he knew Papa would not have wanted
him to move Mama and Luisa across the country to start a new life.
And he couldn’t leave them.

So, he’d told Angela no. She cried and
pleaded with him to reconsider. It about destroyed him to tell
Luisa Angela was leaving. They had become very close; attached in a
way little girls do with women they looked up to. He passed her
bedroom door for weeks after Angela left them, hearing sobs from
within.

In order to forget the happiness he once
shared with Angela and his devastation at her departure, he threw
himself into his work and family responsibilities. He would never
allow harm to come to his family again. They’d had enough
heartbreak. Most of all, he’d protect Luisa from more loss if it
killed him. First, her papa, then Angela.

Bastante
– enough.

Monica had done nothing wrong, but he didn’t
care. It wasn’t worth the risk. Mama hadn’t listened to reason when
he expressed his concerns. So, he couldn’t insist that Monica
leave. But he could make life difficult enough for her that she’d
leave of her own accord.

He sighed and laid his head back on the
couch, his magazine forgotten. “Luisa?”

The little girl lifted one index finger at
him and continued writing on her paper with the other hand. He
smirked and waited.

“Yes?” She finished, shoved her paper in her
backpack and gave him her full attention.

“Do you ever think about Angela?” He hated
bringing up a potentially painful topic, but he had to know where
her mind was and if she had noticed the similarities between Angela
and Monica.

“Angela?” She said the name thoughtfully,
sampling it on her tongue as if it were a vague memory.

He nodded.

“Why? Have you heard from her?” He couldn’t
miss the excitement in her voice, which made him want to poke
himself for pulling the scab off her emotional wound.

“No, no,
hermanita
. I just wonder if
you ever think about her anymore.”

“Not really.” She shook her head and watched
him closely. “Why do you ask?”

He paused. If he fed her too much of his
reason he could do inadvertent damage. And that would be the last
thing he wanted.

“Does this Monica ever remind you of
Angela?”

At Monica’s name, Luisa’s face lit into a
bright smile. “Not exactly. Monica’s more fun. She likes to do girl
stuff. She’s up for anything.”

“And Angela wasn’t?” He really wanted to
understand the distinction she was making.

“Well, Angela was nice and I loved her. It’s
just different. I don’t know.”

Luisa shrugged and Carlos could tell he would
get no more from her on that topic. One thing was clear, though.
Being with Monica wasn’t causing Luisa to remember painful memories
of Angela. He should feel relieved about that. Not just relieved …
happy.

But did he?

The chime on the clock sounded, causing a
flurry of activity from his little sister. She gazed at the clock,
then with a happy smile, she gathered her books and remaining
papers and stuffed them into her backpack. She ran her hand over
her hair and fairly shivered with anticipation. Noticing him
watching her, she shrugged. “It’s six. Monica’s supposed to come at
six.”

A moment later, the doorbell rang and Luisa
let out a scream. She jumped out of her chair and raced across the
tiny room. At the door, she slowed, took a deep breath and opened
it grandly, her face lit with a welcoming smile.

“Monica!” the girl shrieked and threw herself
into the woman’s arms.

Monica kneeled so she was approximately the
same height as Luisa, and administered a solid hug, leaning her
head on Luisa’s shoulder. “So good to see you! Are you ready to
go?”

“Yes,” Luisa shouted. He felt like a real
heel doing what he needed to do, especially since his
hermana
so obviously looked forward to her outing with
Monica. But that didn’t change the fact he needed to do it. Right
now.

He stood, the movement causing Monica’s eyes
to meet his. Her gaze skittered off his face and took a quick glide
over his body before she blushed and propelled her eyes back to
meet his stare.

Interesting.

She patted Luisa’s shoulder, and stood. “Hi,
Carlos.” He detected a slight tremble in her voice.

“Monica.” He walked toward her and observed
her teetering confidence take a little more of a hit. “We need to
talk.”

“Do we?” She looked around, then rested her
gaze on Luisa, who smiled up at her with open adulation.

“
Hermanita
,” Carlos said to Luisa, “I
need to talk with Monica for a minute. Go to your room and I’ll
call you when we’re done.”

Luisa gave him a look that looked like she
was about to argue.

He held up one finger. “
Un momento
,”
he said. “Now go.”

The girl sighed, but trudged to her room.
Carlos waited till she was out of sight. “I understand you’re
taking Luisa out.”

Monica nodded. “We’re going to the mall to
pick up some school supplies.”

“School supplies.” This was bad news on a
number of levels.

Luisa stuck her head into the hallway. “Yes,
Carlos, I’ve run out of some things I need for school. Monica asked
Mama if she could take me. And Mama said yes!”

“Close that door! Now!”

A slam convinced him she was no longer
eavesdropping. Carlos looked back at Monica. Despite the girl’s
enthusiasm, he needed to make sure Monica understood the ground
rules. “Will you be driving?”

Monica stared, as if at first she didn’t
understand the question. “Yes,” she said slowly, drawing it out
like she was speaking to an idiot. Carlos tightened his lips, a
thread of annoyance flitting through him.

“I want to make sure your car is safe. Not to
mention your driving. I don’t want my little sister to go with you
unless I know she won’t be hurt.”

“Okay.” Monica nodded. “That’s reasonable.
You’re welcome to inspect my car and I’m happy to tell you I’ve
never had a speeding ticket or an accident.”

He scowled, his forehead creasing with the
intensity of his aggravation. He hoped his mood would convince her
to forget the whole outing.

Instead, she said, “Hmm, how about this? In
my car I have my insurance statement and it may even show I have an
accident-free discount. Would that satisfy you? Or would you like
to speak to my agent? I could get you his number.”