“No. I’m sorry, but you have to cancel that.”
“Well, I think that’s very unfair of you. Here Phillip has selflessly watched Ollie on several occasions, and the one time he wants to cook you a lovely dinner, you blow him off.” She picks up her bowl and spins away to place it in the sink.
“I’m not blowing him off,” I tell her. “We just have a million things to do today. And what do you care if I see him or not?”
“Because he’s a nice boy, Winnie. I used to be friends with his mother, and I don’t want her son’s heart to get trampled on.”
“I’m not trampling his heart, Juliette. We hung out one time.”
“One time is all it takes to forge a connection. Isn’t that what you would tell me if the roles were reversed?”
“Good, let’s reverse the roles. You go instead.” I pull my phone out of my pocket, seeing a text from Roshni asking us where we are. My foot starts to tap, eager to finish off this conversation so we can get moving.
“Unfortunately, Phillip is a tad young for me. And I’m busy tonight. I’m meant to be reinventing my career and all that.” I sigh, and she goes on. “You’re going to have to swing back here to walk Ollie anyways, so do that, have a quick bite with Phillip, and then you’re done.”
“Fine,” I begrudgingly agree. “But only because I don’t want to waste any more time or energy arguing about it.”
“Excellent decision.” She smiles to herself, seeming self-satisfied in her usual way, and I groan and look at the door.
“Can we go now? Roshni’s already asking when we’re getting there.”
“Right, yes. I just need a minute.” She quickly glances around the kitchen a little aimlessly, almost looking for something to catch her attention.
“Did you need to do something?” I ask her.
“I don’t know, I’m just...” She keeps looking around. “I just need a minute.”
Before I can probe further, she places her hands down onto the marble countertop, dropping her head a bit and taking a deep breath.
“Juliette?” She doesn’t glance up, and I instinctively soften my voice. “Are you nervous about tonight?”
She looks up at me then, pushing her hair back off her face as she takes another steadying breath. “Show me a playwright that doesn’t get nervous, and I’ll show you the future leader of the undead.”
I smile back at her because it’s funny and also because I know it’s what she needs. She’s using her humor to hold up a sign that sayslook at me!so I don’t glance the other way and see the terrified artist cowering in the corner.
“What was it like the first time?” I ask her. “WhenThe Lights of Trafalgaropened in New York?”
Her playful smile returns slightly and I’m relieved to see it.
“It was pure, unadulterated excitement paired with dry-heaving terror. Agony in the dark that gave way to the ecstasy of deafening applause. Playwrights can be so unassuming, sitting there in the audience. Hiding in plain sight. The people beside us have no idea that they hold our entire fate in their hands. That we live or die with their choice to clap or not.” She drifts off again, maybe in a memory or maybe hoping for the future. Either way, she’s quick to look back at me. “What am I telling you this for anyways? I’m sure you know the drill.”
“Barely,” I tell her. “The only sound at the end of my play opening was the stomp of feet as they stormed the exit.”
“It couldn’t have been as bad as all that.”
“It really was. There was also the sound of people whispering, ‘What the hell was that?’ That was a very prominent sound, actually.”
Juliette’s gaze turns sympathetic. “For every success you obtain, there will first be a thousand failures.”
“It still sucks,” I say petulantly.
“Welcome to my life for the past five years. I’d like to say that you get used to it, but I don’t think anyone ever really grows accustomed to an ass-kicking of the spirit.”
“Well, I can almost guarantee there will be no spiritual ass-kickings tonight, because the entire city of London is about to fall back in love withThe Lights of Trafalgar. This staging is going to change everything, Juliette.”
“I hope so. After being back here and working on this revival, I feel like I’ve changed. I was closed off to so many things, but now I see that I’ve been standing in my own way these past few years. I couldn’t let the past go, and by holding on so tight, I was refusing to let myself move forward. From here on out, I’m going to do things differently. If I don’t take risks, I’m catering to my fear, and I’m done doing that. I’m absolutely done.”
“That’s amazing to hear,” I tell her. “I’m so happy for you.”
