“Thank you, but I had to do it on my own terms. For once. I just don’t know what to do next,” he says. “I’m getting all of these scripts for TV and film. I’m getting interest from the hottest directors. It’s everything I wanted.” Barry sighs. “I’m just not as happy as I thought I’d be for some reason.”
“Then be happy! Go back to doing it the way you’ve always done it. Be in control of your life and work,” I say. “You think you only did crappy community theater, but you wrote, acted, directed... you did it all, Barry. You changed people’s lives with these shows. You changed our lives. And it’s been a blast, hasn’t it?”
“It has.”
“Have you ever considered that your life has worked out exactly the way it was supposed to?” I ask. “Have you ever considered that the three of us were your big break? That maybe being a friend is the role of a lifetime.”
He eyes me skeptically. “Who have you become?”
“A eunuch,” I say. “It’s softened me. And I can sing soprano now.”
He laughs.
“You just need to write your happy ending, Barry. What’s that fancy word you use for the end of a story, when the strands of the plot are drawn together and everything is resolved?”
“The denouement?” Barry asks.
“That’s it. You just need your personal denouement.” I nudge his shoulder. “Every great character grows and changes. Perhaps that’s what’s holding you back right now from taking advantage of your hard-won success. You’ve grown and changed. I mean, you haven’t brought anyone home in ages.” I shake my head at how insane that is. “I think you just need to write your own final act.”
Barry sits up straight.
“That’s it! That’s what Ron was trying to tell me, too!”
He leaps off the bed.
“I’ll be right back!”
He returns with his laptop, takes a seat in a chair and begins to type furiously. Barry glances at me. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Just keep writing.”
A few moments later, my cell rings.
“Hi, sis.”
Trudy’s face appears on my phone.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like I’m trying to tinkle an ice pick.”
“Thank you for the visual,” Trudy says. “I sent flowers. Did you get them?”
A gorgeous bouquet sits on a nearby table.
“Yes. Thank you. They’re beautiful. How are you feeling?”
“First few weeks of therapy are going well,” she says. “And I do have a surprise.”
“What now?”
“Ava is looking at the California Institute of the Arts.”
“That’s amazing! CalArts is incredible.”
“And Santa Clarita isn’t that far from you,” Trudy adds. “Ava says you inspired her. She’s interested in studying costume design there.”
Barry looks up and applauds.
