The Truth About Fragile Things (29 page)

I scanned his face, wished I could reach out and touch him with the easiness I used to. “What am I missing?”

His dark eyes met mine with a gravity I didn’t recognize; the mischievous light burned out. “Did you ever think that I might actually like her?”

The cold truth hit like a snowball against my stomach. I answered with one honest word. “No.” But when no one acknowledged me, I realized I’d only said it inside my head.

Schatz put her large hand momentarily over his. “Be that as it may,” she said gently, “and you will both have to work that out if it is, personal problems don’t mess up a show. I’ve never let them before and I won’t let them now.” She gave Phillip’s hand several firm pats. “You be the friend you’ve always been and help Megan finish that list. Everything else comes after that. Deal?” Her stern eyes held his in a challenge. “Except my show. That comes first, always.”

He blinked and nodded. “I promise.”

I fought the wetness behind my eyes, stinging along my lashes.

“So, tell me about this camping trip,” Schatz said to Phillip.

“I wouldn’t want to bore you,” he hedged.

“Let’s risk it.” She leaned forward, her chin planted on her hand, her eyes alert with curiosity.

They shared one laugh and I was, once again, odd Megan out.

I
think
Phillip regretted admitting his feelings to me because the rest of the week he stumbled and tripped over an uncomfortable formality. He was too polite, too correct, too nice. He swallowed self-consciously whenever I spoke to him, trailed off without finishing his punch lines, lost all of his ease and grace, and avoided standing too close to anyone, especially Charlotte. But on stage he was warm and professional, no longer scared to touch me. It was only there I found pieces of him.

With Phil slowly returning to normal, I turned all of my focus on Charlotte, determined to have her outshine every junior and senior on the stage. And for the first time, she let me tell her what to do.

“Before you walk out, close your eyes and see everything. Not the stage—Belinda’s reality. And when it is completely real in your head ignore everything you see,” I told her as we stepped around Taylor who was adjusting her skirt and glancing up at the sound booth.

“That makes no sense,” Charlotte said, letting me position her stage left to run through a scene.

“Perfect. Keep your shoulders open when you pause here,” I said before returning to our conversation. “Then I didn’t say it right. Let your head be so full of her reality that you can’t even see any of this. Not the seats or the lights or the crews or anything. Can you do that?”

“Do you really do that?” she asked. “Actually not see any of this?”

“It honestly works,” I promised. “I forget about all of it. If I can do it, you can do it.”

She smiled up at me, her mouth curved by something more than happiness or a joke. It was trust.

“I’ll be Phil,” I told her and snapped my fingers. “Shoulders open.”

“You sound like Schatz,” she said in a low grumble. And then she twisted her body obediently and started the scene, her chin tilted slightly up, just like mine.

Friday after rehearsal I was tired down to the bones, dreaming of hot food and an early bedtime, but there was something more important than solitude and sleep. I grabbed a handful of Phillip’s coat and a handful of Charlotte’s and pulled them both close to me.

“Pizza?” I asked.

They both agreed so quickly I knew they were as anxious as me to be alone and to talk. We piled into my car, Phillip taking the front seat. I didn’t let the satisfaction show, but it felt right to have him slide in next to me, easy and casual. I took them to the same shopping center where Lauren and I always went and we settled into a corner booth inside California Pizza Kitchen. It took ten minutes to come to an agreement on what pizza to share, but after we placed our order there was an awkward lull.

That was when I realized I had no idea how to start the conversation. Gone were the old jokes and fast quips. Since I don’t pull off funny very well I decided to go straight for the heart of the manner. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the list.” Charlotte fidgeted next to Phil, constantly readjusting how close or far to sit from him. She finally settled and looked up at me. I continued, “I know we can’t do the rafting until spring, but I still want to keep working on it.”

Phillip slid his root beer over and wiped the trail of cold water his cup left on the wooden table. “How? Charlotte’s not getting married and rafting is all we have left beside walking her down the aisle. Unless she needs to be in the play to have her performance count.”

“I know,” I agreed. “That’s what I’ve been thinking about. There’s not a lot left. Charlotte,” she stopped twisting her cloth napkin when I addressed her, “you’ve always said your dad didn’t finish the list.”

“Yeah…” she pulled out the word, not trusting wherever I was going.

“So, I think, we don’t just fulfill his partial list— we
finish
it.”

They grew still, their ears soaked in the words until realization appeared in their eyes. Charlotte spoke up first. “How in the world can we finish his list? Do you have a Ouija board Megan, because he’s dead.”

I was prepared for the sarcasm and just as I’d promised myself when I’d come up with this plan, I ignored it. “I know that. And I know we don’t know what he would have written. He probably didn’t know. That’s why he stopped. But if we all add something, maybe if we’re lucky, it will be something he would have wanted to do, too.” All my courage was seeping out. If Phillip thought it was stupid I would have to drop it.

“You mean all three of us come up with whatever we want?” he asked. “And we add it to Bryon’s list?”

“That was my idea. If you have a better one…” Despite my intentions my last words came out defensive.

“I don’t have anything else,” he said. “But are there rules? Like how insane can they be?”

“Insane isn’t the point,” I told him. “The point is to make ourselves do something better than just…normal. The point is we hope he’s watching and knows we are really trying. For him.”

Charlotte was too quiet and I worried I’d crossed a boundary. Bryon was, after all, her dad. The list belonged to her now. Maybe she thought adding something was irreverent, presumptuous.

“What do you think, Charlotte?” Phillip asked gently.

She looked up at him and I saw one of her fingers twitch, wondered how badly she wanted to grab onto his hand. Her fingers looked cold and alone. “I don’t know,” she stalled.

“Like I could say ‘coach a losing little league soccer team to victory and have a movie made about it?’” Phil asked, his eyes gathering brightness like a fire gathering flames.

“You can’t control what people make a movie about. And if we coached it, it would definitely not end in victory.” I pointed out.

“Could I do a cattle drive?” he asked.

Charlotte laughed. “You want to herd cows? The whole world in front of you and your big dream is herding cows?”

“Rule one,” Phillip announced. “If we do this, we do it. No one tells me what not to put on the list. And if you’re so brilliant what would you put on it?” he asked Charlotte.

“I don’t know. I’d have to think.”

“We all have to think,” I agreed. “I’m just wondering if we all agree to it.”

Phillip and I turned to Charlotte just as our waiter set down our steaming chicken alfredo pizza. Charlotte stared at it a moment before she picked a slice and slid it onto her plate. She pulled off one thread of cheese and put it in her mouth. “I think,” she finally answered. “Maybe.”

“So we’re agreed?” I pressed before she could change her mind. “We each add one thing, anything we want?” I turned to Phillip who had just grabbed a couple slices and my eyes narrowed. “No nudity,” I told him. “No physical intimacies of any kind.”

“I’m not the one who said we should swim naked,” he reminded me.

“Did she just say physical intimacies?” Charlotte choked. “Seriously, Phillip, where did you find her?”

“See, Megan, it’s kind of bad timing to ban physical intimacies because I’m pretty sure I can get Taylor on rebound. Zirman practically runs when he sees her and I’m sure her ego will crack at some point.”

Charlotte snorted. “What a catch. She reminds me of a biter from preschool.”

“Is it a deal?” My voice tightened.

“Deal,” Phillip said. His soft eyes found mine over the food and cups and called a truce.

I smiled in return. “Deal.”

“Well, I don’t see how we can screw it up any more than it is,” Charlotte sighed and took a bite. She stopped mid-chew when she saw Phillip and I wouldn’t rest until she said it.

“Deal,” she mumbled just before she snorted and said, “physical intimacies.”