Willa whirled away and came back. She covered my mouth with one finger, her hips still swinging under my hands. Our technique was all off, but she was doing a good job of raising my blood pressure.
“Shush, Doug. Let’s get through today. I’ll tell you everything tonight.”
That was not reassuring. Willa was a pragmatist. To a fault. And if she thought it was easier to have a fake relationship with Justin instead of fighting him on it, that’s what she’d do. We already knew that was what Alan wanted, and now that she’d gotten to know Justin a little better, maybe she thought he was someone she could tolerate for the sake of the show.
I prepared myself for that eventuality. It wouldn’t be real, any more than our supposed romantic relationship. Willa was never mine in any sense, real or imagined. I wasn’t sure she was capable of committing herself to that kind of vulnerability with anyone.
I twirled her around and pulled her in close, trying to truly live in the moment. Dancing was a lot like acting. Locking eyes with your partner as if you wanted to devour her was sort of expected. I could look at Willa with my guard completely down. My heart beat faster as my hands moved her to the rhythm. Even if this was the only season I was a judge, and I never spoke to her again, I would have moments like this to look back on—memories to color my otherwise grayscale existence.
The music ended and she let go of me, giving my hand one last squeeze. “Check out your mom. She’s freaking out.”
Right. My mom. I’d totally forgotten she was watching, and if security didn’t require guests to turn in their phones, she would have been filming us and immediately sharing it with everyone she knew, and millions of people she didn’t. She had her hands pressed to her cheeks and her jaw wide open in pleasant shock. It was her laser-focused dream for me to find true love, or at least date a celebrity or two so she could talk about it with her friends.
To my horror, a film crew and Stanley made their way over to Mom, and Stanley introduced himself, shaking her hand. I wanted to jump off stage and stop this obvious interview request, but like in a dream, it was playing out before my very eyes with no way to stop it. Not without making a scene. They were leading her off to a quieter place to film, and I felt hot and cold all over, imagining all the things my mother was capable of saying with the right encouragement.
It was better not to think about it. Rehearsal started back up and I watched the choreographer, throwing myself into learning the routine until I could do it in my sleep.
I had hoped Mom would leave at some point, but she came back in an hour later and waited until rehearsal ended. She informed me she’d made dinner reservations for us at her favorite restaurant, a fancier place than I would have liked. The owners always made a big deal out of me being there, as if I was an A-list celebrity. I knew they only did it because it made Mom happy, which made it all the more embarrassing.
We drove separately, and then I waited by her car and walked her in.
After loudly giving the owner an update on her amazing day watching my rehearsal, they seated us at a center table. The surrounding patrons were already staring and whispering to each other. That was new. Usually I could count on the Strength Warrior demographic to already be in bed and not out at fancy restaurants. I guess Triple Threat was a whole different story.
“The tilapia sounds good,” I said, hoping to steer the conversation to safe and boring places.
Mom would have none of that. She snapped her menu shut and put it down in front of her. “So, tell me about Willa. Are you two dating? Secretly? Openly? How does your production team feel about that?”
Willa was not a common name. Plus, everyone in the restaurant already knew I wastheDoug Keller, from Triple Threat. This was not a great place for an interrogation.
“Mom, keep it down. Everyone can hear you.”
“So it’s a secret relationship.” She looked smug. “Was that your idea or Willa’s?”
I sighed. “I never said there was a relationship. Can we not discuss this right now?”
“When would we discuss it then? Are you too famous now to talk your own mother? You’re not answering my calls. You said I wasn’t allowed on set. I know that’s not true. They welcomed me with open arms, asking if I needed a water, introducing me to the whole staff. I even met Victoria Lauren’s dog walker. Willa has one too. You should get a dog, honey.”
Theoretical dogs I could talk about. I welcomed her idea with open arms. We discussed which breeds were the most friendly and easiest to care for until the waiter brought out appetizers.
My phone vibrated at my hip, and I pulled it out of its holder just enough to see it was Willa calling.
“Who’s that?” Mom asked.
“The director, Stanley. Do you mind if I quickly text him back?”
“Not at all. Tell him I said ‘hi.’”
I felt terrible for lying to her, but if she knew it was Willa, I’d never hear the end of it. I rejected the call and texted her back instead.
Dinner with my mother. I’ll call after.
We’ll just talk tomorrow.
Another day not knowing what was going on. I didn’t need another reason to wish I wasn’t having dinner with Mom.
I felt immediate guilt for my thoughts. Yes, she drove me insane, but she was family and she cared about me in her own misguided way.
I tucked my phone away and asked Mom about the interview they did, trying to discern whether she’d given them good material and how they might use it.
I started to feel relief when she mentioned things like my favorite meal she likes to make for me on my birthday and how I had a pair of lucky socks in high school the year I ran track. Those were only mildly embarrassing, and I’d already been cast as a nerd.
But she kept talking and admitted she’d met Willa at her son’s wedding and was pleasantly surprised to see us still together as a couple. She also told them she didn’t think highly of Justin Justice because he’d been a childhood bully to her sweet Doug. She told them about all the talent shows I’d tried out for years ago. Basically, she’d given them everything.
