Chapter Seventeen “Heart”

seventeen

" Heart "

The buzzing of my cell wakes me up the next morning and I blink at it in complete confusion. It's Anna Wong. Talk about random. Assuming she's dialed me by mistake, I give a sleepy moan and answer.

"Hi, Anna Wong. Why are you calling me? I fired Chase."

"Right. That's why I'm calling you."

She already knows? Of course she does. She arranges all of his travel. I hope he felt embarrassed when he asked her to book his return trip so quickly. Maybe he even went so far as to book an extra ticket for me that she then had to cancel. Chase has that kind of obnoxious, deeply assured opinion of himself.

"I'd like to pitch you something."

"Um, now isn't a very…" I sigh. "Oh, go ahead. What do you wanna pitch me?"

"I want to pitch you Anna Wong."

"Anna Wong wants to pitch me Anna Wong?"

"Correct. I can't take being Chase's assistant anymore. I've been slowly making connections in the industry and I'm ready to strike out on my own. And I'm asking you to be my first client."

I have no idea what to say. I mean, I technically have no agent at the moment, which fits perfectly with the fact that I technically have no career, either.

"This is a little out of nowhere."

"I know, I know, but somebody took a chance on you once, right?"

"Yes, his name is Chase Abrams and I burn him in effigy every night right after my evening prayers."

"Are you currently seeking representation elsewhere?"

I pause. Anna Wong is good. "No."

"So you really have nothing to lose, do you?"

"Oh, Anna Wong, Anna Wong, Anna Wong…Why do you think you'd be able to revive my rotting corpse of a career?"

"I've put together a whole PowerPoint presentation. I called it ‘The Lazarus Docket.'?"

Okay, I hate her for that and I love her for that at exactly the same time.

"My plan is to go out far and wide to producers and artistic directors everywhere with a very curated demo of songs which you put together. Just your absolute favorite top three songs. The ones you're proudest of. Some variety in tone would be nice, but I'll leave that up to you. In the meantime, I'm pitching you as a book doctor to every show that's in trouble. Anonymous for you, which is good. But also possibly extremely financially advantageous for us both. In the meantime, you start spitballing a new musical. Something very small and producible. Tiny cast. Unit set. Maybe even a small orchestra. Kind of like The Fantasticks , where they just need piano, bass, and drums. And then maybe you throw in something wacky like a theremin, just to keep it interesting. Once that's ready, I shop it to the Public, Playwrights Horizons, Second Stage. It's so scrappy and producible, how can they resist? This is all just the tip of the iceberg, Noah, and I'm running out of breath."

Wow. She's clearly insane and probably also exactly what I need right now. "You know, you have clearly given this a lot of elaborate thought and I'm intrigued. But before I make up my mind, I need to ask you one thing."

"Okay."

"Did you know about Chase and Aleister? I don't care if you did or if you didn't. I only care that you answer me honestly. That I feel I can trust you. And I'm sorry for putting you on the spot, but did you know?"

A long pause, a slow exhale and then she says, "I knew. He was my boss and it wasn't my place to get involved. But yes. I knew. And I found it disgusting."

I pause. "Well, look at that. We're already agreeing on something. You're hired."

"Shut up! I am not! I am? Really! I can still send you that PowerPoint presentation."

"We both know I'll never look at it anyway. You are now in full control of my career. All hail the Lazarus Docket. Go forth and be bold."

And then she screams in my ear for about a month and hangs up.

Hours later I gallop down the stairs and find Luke waiting for me outside in his truck. He's agreed to let me meet his mom. We ride in silence until he pulls up in front of her trailer. I'm hoping Luke isn't regretting his decision.

"So, before you meet her, you should know that Mom uses words like ‘ain't' a lot. And her teeth are kind of…not great. But if you come even slightly close to making fun of her or embarrassing her…I'll…I'll…"

"Kick my ass?"

"I'll never forgive you."

And that is something I would never recover from. "The reason I wanted to meet your mother is because she raised you. And you're amazing. So I just wanted to see where all that amazingness came from."

Luke gives my thigh a squeeze and says with grave seriousness, as if we're about to storm Normandy, "Let's do this."

By the time we get out of the truck, Sue is already standing in the yard holding a tray heavy with a pitcher of iced tea and three glasses. She's surprisingly petite, but makes up for it with a no-nonsense aura that seems to radiate for miles.

"Well, there's my big boy!"

Luke looks embarrassed, but hugs his mom and grabs the tray.

"And you must be Noah," Sue says. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm gonna need to hug your neck."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" I say. And just like that, we're hugging and in an instant I somehow understand where Luke gets all of his humanity.

We pull apart and I realize that she's set up a whole little teatime spread on her outdoor furniture.

"Oh, look. Tea for two…or, um three," I say like a dummy. And then, because I suffer from chronic verbal diarrhea, I keep yammering on. "You know that song ‘Tea for Two'? Those weren't supposed to be the actual lyrics. They were just supposed to be placeholders. The lyricist just jotted them down quickly because he and the composer were late for a party and they wanted to pick up some girls. But the composer fell in love with the lyrics and insisted they stay. Even though they don't really make any sense. I mean, ‘Picture you upon my knee, just tea for two and two for tea?' How are they supposed to have tea if they're sitting on each other's knees?"

Sue just stares at me, dumbfounded.

"He babbles when he's nervous," Luke explains.

"Why would he be nervous of me?" Sue asks.

"Oh, I'm not nervous." I laugh and then pick up a Fig Newton and say, "You know, they're called Fig Newtons because they were originally baked in a factory in Newton, Massachusetts." They stare at me some more. "Just a fun fact."

Casually, we all take our places around the table and Luke, gentleman that he is, starts to serve Sue and me.

Sue launches in. "So I don't know if he told you, but Luke let me read your script. He was so excited about it that I just had to take a look at it. But me, well, I have a couple of questions."

I heave a little sigh. "Everyone does."

Luke jumps in. "Mom, I don't think Noah wants to hear a bunch of—"

I stop him. "No, no. Ask away. I haven't gone wrong listening to notes yet."

Sue considers for a moment. "Well, you know, at first I didn't think I'd be able to follow it. But then, I really got into it. And I can't wait to hear the music to them songs."

"But?" I patiently prompt.

"Well, there's just something that really stuck in my craw."

"Mom, jeez!" Luke is embarrassed and I won't allow it.

"No, Luke. I'd really like to help your mother unstick her craw. Go on, Mrs. Carter."

She scans the horizon pensively. "Well, I get that most families are screwed up. Just like the Lears in your play."

Luke corrects her. "Musical, Mom."

"Musical. And God knows I understand that people make bad decisions in life. I mean, bad decisions are what landed me in this palace of dreams." Sue wearily waves a hand at her surroundings.

"Wait. Luke, you didn't tell me your mother did comedy."

Sue gives me a sardonic smile. "Oh, I'm a laugh riot."

Luke gets impatient. "Mom, I've asked you to move out of here a million times and all you say is that you're comfortable where you are. You know that I'm totally willing to help you find someplace else."

Sue gives Luke a shake of the head. "I ain't going anywhere. The point is, Noah, there ain't much heart in your musical."

I swallow. Hard. "Heart?"

"You know, who are we rooting for? They're all terrible people except for that one daughter."

I'm listening with laser focus. "You mean, Cordelia?"

"Yeah, that's the one. We don't care about all of those other bastards. So could you focus on her a little more? I mean, the rest of the characters have shit for brains. But Cordelia and her love for her dad and the fact that her dad don't recognize that? Well, that there's the heart of your story."

I sit in a haze for a second. Like I've just made my way down a very inspiring mountain and don't know what to do with myself.

Then Sue cackles. "Of course, I don't know anything."

I look her dead in the eyes and say, "Sue. You have no idea how much you've just helped me."

Sue sits there and I think she knows she's blown my mind and is a little bit proud of herself. Luke announces that he has to go to the bathroom by saying that he's "got to go see a man about a horse," which is a very confusing phrase to use seeing as he works on a farm. I mean, he could actually be seeing an actual man about an actual horse.

After more iced tea sipping, Sue finally says, "My Luke's pretty smitten with you."

I gurgle, I guess to limber up my vocal cords. "Well, you've done an amazing job raising him. Every time I turn around, I learn something even more ridiculously wonderful about him. What'll I find out next? That he saved five babies from an orphanage fire?"

"Oh, don't go crazy. It was only three babies."

"Careful, Sue. I don't like people who are wittier than me. I feel threatened."

Luke comes back and the three of us watch two squirrels race quickly through the yard as if they're hurrying to catch a connecting flight.

I finally ask Sue, "So you're coming to the show, right?"

Sue gives an exhausted shake of the head. "Nah. Nobody wants to see this old bag of bones parading around town. Besides, in a place like this, you make a few mistakes and you're branded with a bad reputation. Whether it's warranted or it ain't. So people are assholes. What else is new?"

"Oh, no. I think you should consider coming. Luke has worked so hard on the set. Well, he's worked so hard on two sets. And you are hardly a bag of bones. You look great!"

She gives a rousing laugh and points an index finger at me. "I like him. He's a good liar!"

I love this woman. "Well, as the kids say, ‘you do you,' but it would be amazing to see you there."

Sue waves her hands in the air, clearly more comfortable being noncommittal. Finally, Luke stands up and announces, "We better get going."

Sue gets up and pulls me into a hug. While I'm there she whispers into my ear. "Think about the heart thing."

I pull away so I can look her in the eye. "Thank you for the insight."

Luke and I head back to the truck and before I know it, Luke grabs me and pulls me into the warmest hug of my life. "What's this for?"

"People aren't always so nice to my mom." And then I notice he's tearing up. And even more upsetting, he's embarrassed that I realize that he's tearing up.

I take him by the shoulders and look him fearlessly in the eye. "Well, people are going to start being nice to her."

Luke looks away, shaking his head. "How?"

"I'm sorry, have you not met my mother?"

When I get home, I find Mom curled up on the couch under an afghan. I sit down next to her and grab the remote to turn off whatever cooking show she's watching.

"Noah, they were just about to show the recipe for Hot Cheetos mozzarella balls!"

"We need to talk. It's about Luke's mom."

Mom goes right into gossip mode. "Well, you know what her story is, of course. Everybody does. She used to go down to that dive bar over on Calumet Street every single night and well, believe you me—"

I immediately cut her off. "Okay, Mom, just stop it, would you?"

We're both a little stunned that I've interrupted her, but I push forward. "You don't know her life. I don't know her life. This town doesn't know her life. The only thing we know for sure is that she single-handedly raised the best person in this entire galaxy. Someone who would run and fetch the moon for you, Dad, me, any of us. And I don't know what kind of narrative has been spun about Sue Carter, but I need you to be the one to unspin it."

Mom puts a startled hand to her mouth.

I can see her wheels turning, click-click-clicking along, slowly manifesting little tinges of guilt on her face.

I wait patiently as her brain comes to an inevitable realization.

She starts out very slowly. "Son, you have just righted your mother's ship."

I'm not sure what she means, but I can see where I get my love of nautical metaphors.

"Okay, Mom, let's go with that. Let's just say I have righted your ship. What does that actually mean?"

"It means that tomorrow morning I start working the phones."

"Working the phones?"

"Oh, would you like a little sample? I might get on the phone and say things like, ‘No one is supposed to know this, but I found out that Sue Carter won a chunk of change from the lottery. She decided that there were people worse off than her and gave it all to charity. All of it. Please tell no one I've shared this very personal information with you.'?"

"So it's a gossip Jedi mind trick?"

Mom nods. "If that's what you want to call it. And maybe I say to someone else that she volunteers at a soup kitchen every Saturday, while the rest of us are all out eating fancy brunches. And also, she's related to the Kennedy family, but she's too classy to bring it up! Oh, Noah, I'm just getting started. I see redemption for all of us! You know, for a town with so many churches, we've got a lot of people who aren't very Christian. Oh, let me get my planner and start writing these ideas down."

"Don't go overboard, Mom. She doesn't need to be shunned by the people of Plainview if they catch you in a ton of lies."

"I'll be slick about it. I was blind, but now I see." She pauses. "And you know what? From now on, I'm only going to call someone a great gal if they're actually a great gal."

I'm leery, but nod anyway.

—

Back at the theater, Abby has decided to start each rehearsal with a quick warm-up session, which is basically a glorified Zumba routine. While the cast devotedly stretches under her tutelage, I wander slowly backstage in hopes of finding Luke. He's on a ladder, putting a gel into one of the lights.

"You do lighting now?"

Luke shrugs. "I'm a jack of many trades."

I turn into an anxious third grader. "Did your mom like me? Did I pass the test?"

Luke hops down from the ladder and beams. "You passed with flying colors. She loves you." He pauses and then says slowly, "So, I was wondering if you'd like to come over tonight after—"

"Yes," I cut him off. "You don't ever have to wonder if I want to come over. Let's just always assume that it's a ‘yes' on my part. Let's just assume I'm legally grandfathered in."

"Ha. Okay. But also…" And now Luke seems to be searching for words.

"Also?" I prompt.

"Also, I was wondering if, like that song from Anything Goes , I could be the top, if I could be the, you know, coliseum."

I take a step back and start making animated computer noises. "Bloop! Bleep! Blonk!"

Luke stares at me and is probably convinced that I'm having a psychotic break. "I'm sorry, my brain just needs a second to process this information."

Luke looks completely embarrassed and I rush to reassure him.

"No, sorry, I would very much like to formally and graciously invite you to be the, um, coliseum. It's just, you know, not my usual go-to move, is all. But, sure!"

Luke gives me a devious grin and says lowly, "Yeah, baby."

"I'm a grown man. You can't start calling me baby."

"Why? Because you might like it too much?"

I simply reply, "Stop being right about things," and stomp off.

In order to distract myself, I pull out my badly wrinkled rehearsal schedule and count. Only nine rehearsals left. It's funny how the growing Xs on the calendar used to seem like a positive thing. Now the Xs just represent what precious little time I have left here with Luke. It's with a surprising amount of sadness that I put a big, fat X over today's date.

Rehearsal winds down and I find myself getting slightly nervous about what's about to happen with Luke. Instead of driving myself to rehearsals, it's now become a habit to ride with Luke in his truck. The moon hangs low in the summer sky as I slide into the front seat and Luke starts the engine. I'm quiet as we drive. Luke keeps his eyes on the road, but reaches out to put his hand on my thigh. I quake a little as stars whiz by my window.

Why am I being so strange? This ain't my first time at the rodeo.

When we get to Luke's place, Bosco is barking up a storm and though he's happy to see us, he's happier to run out into the yard and into the night. I throw The Executive onto the sofa and plop down beside it.

"You hungry?" Luke asks.

"I think I would like a beverage of a very alcoholic nature."

Luke walks from the kitchen to the living room to confront me. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm great. I'm super. I would just like a large amount of alcohol, that's all."

Luke sits down on the sofa next to me. "I don't have to be the coliseum, Noah."

"No, no, no. It's not fair that I always get to be the coliseum and you always have to be…" I search my brain for the lyrics of the song. "A toy balloon that's fated soon to pop?"

He laughs and then leans into me, rubbing his scruffy chin against my neck, which is unfair, since he knows it's my kryptonite. "We don't have to if you don't want to."

I sink back into the couch. Somewhere in the backyard, a church owl is screeching on about something. I finally whisper into his Luke's ear using my best director's voice, "Can I please have the talent move stage left toward the bedroom?"

As I take his hand and lead him down the hallway, I reiterate his notes to me from our first very official date. "And can we just…go slowly, please? And…some eye contact would be nice."

Luke stops and wraps his arms around me from behind, whispering hotly in my ear, "Oh, fuck, yeah."

—

When it's over I find myself falling into my usual position, crushing him with all of my might. I slowly roll over and let him nuzzle into my very sweaty side. We're both struck mute for what seems like forever.

Finally, I give an old-fashioned Midwestern, "Welp."

Luke laughs. "I'll say. Double welp."

We then assume what has become our default snuggling arrangement. Though he's obviously larger than me, I always play the role of the big spoon. I wrap myself around him like I'm a possessive koala. What is this intrinsic need I have to protect him? He's just too good for this world. Too kind. If anyone tries to hurt him, they're going to have to go through me. And Dad made me take karate in seventh grade. So be warned, marauders. I'm nothing if not scrappy. And willing to fight dirty.

We're quiet for a while and then out of nowhere, Luke says, "I was thinking. Maybe you and I have been hurtling toward one another our entire lives and we just didn't know it."

All I can say is, "You don't get to be poetic and have a six pack, Luke. It's like if the world found out Tom Brady did ballet in his spare time. It's showing off."

"I'm just impressed you know who Tom Brady is."

Luke quietly runs his fingers over my collarbone. It's strangely hypnotic. "Not to ruin the moment, but are you…are you still bothered about the Chase thing? Like, are you still hurting because of that guy?"

"Oh, Chase? Am I still bothered about that lying, dissembling, cheating garbage person I used to date? Sometimes, I guess. But mostly I just think about how great it would have been if we got together sooner. Then I never would have had to date that prick in the first place. You're so superior to Chase in every single way. It's almost laughable. I mean, I guess Chase was good for some things. Like sparkling conversation. He always had a witty, snarky comment waiting in the wings. But he could be a real dick. And cold. And he hated kissing. That should have been a red flag. Light kissing was fine, but no tongue action. He didn't like tongues. Or maybe he just didn't like my tongue."

All of the sudden Luke is on top of me, plunging his amazing tongue down my throat so hard and it's almost too perfect for my mere mortal mind to process. When he finally stops, I stare at him in disbelief. "What was that?"

"That," he says with complete sincerity, "is how you deserve to be kissed."

This. Fucking. Guy.