Inner Diva (21 page)

“
Carina,
” Carlos began, his
affectionate word choice at odds with the intensity of his tone, “I
read your letter. I wanted to ram it through the wall when I read
how you want to destroy what we have together.”

“No, it’s not that I want to.” She raised her
tear-filled eyes to meet his and shivered. “Exactly.”

He exhaled sharply and raised his hand to
rest on her cheek.

She willed herself not to flinch. “I’m just
not used to violence. I’m the older of two sisters; grew up in the
suburbs, and never witnessed a street fight in my life. I don’t
think I can adjust to …”

The hand so gently caressing her face pulled
away and he rose to his feet. “What did you want me to do, Monica?”
He swung to face her. “I knew those men – what they were capable
of. I had to protect you and Luisa. There was no other way.”

Monica nodded. When she thought of what
could’ve happened to her and Louisa without his protection, she
shuddered. “I’m not faulting you. Believe me, I appreciate your
protecting us. It’s just that, I don’t want violence to have a
place in my life. I want a peaceful existence. And as much as you
thought you put your gang days behind you, this just shows us:
it’ll never leave you alone.”

Fury flicked across his expression and he
stalked toward her so fast she jumped out of her chair. “My gang
days? This wasn’t like that. Sure, I used to fight for the thrill
of it. I was a stupid, irresponsible kid. But I turned my back on
the gang. I ended it. I did what was right for my family, Monica,
and I thought you, of all people, knew that.”

She’d wounded him – she knew it. Her heart
ached as she reached out to him and clenched his arm. He bowed his
head and his chest heaved with emotion. When he spoke again, he
avoided her gaze and his voice was softer than before. “I was
fighting to protect two people I love – you and Luisa. What better
reason to fight is there?”

They stood in silence for a moment. Steve
stuck his head in the dressing room. “Mon? Ten minutes left till …”
He raised his eyebrows to her, an unspoken question. Carlos glanced
over his shoulder at the interruption.

“Thanks Steve. I’ll be there in just a
minute.”

Steve lingered in the doorway, then shut the
door behind him, creating a wall of privacy. Monica sighed. “I’m
sorry, Carlos. I have to go.” She walked toward the door, unsure
how she would resume the play, knowing he was out there watching
her. Or worse yet, knowing he’d left.

“Wait.” He followed her and put his palm on
the door, stopping her from opening it. “There’s a big difference
between the fighting I used to do that scares you and what I did
last night. I used to fight for the thrill of it. For the
adrenaline rush I’d get from overpowering a guy – beating him to
the ground.” He took a step closer to her and reached out as if he
could coax her understanding out of her. “Some people race cars for
the thrill. Some people bungee jump. Me – I got into fights.”

Monica shook her head. “Yes, and that makes
your idea of thrill and excitement about 180 degrees away from
mine. Don’t you see? There could never be a place for that type of
excitement in my life.”

“But I’m not into that anymore. I haven’t had
a fight in years – many years. Last night I was fighting to protect
you and my little sister.”

“I know. I would’ve been in big trouble if
you hadn’t. There’s no imagining what those guys could’ve …” A
darkness came over her and she shook her head to ward it off. “But
those guys came after you because of your old connection with the
gang. They’ll never let you go entirely. It’s been a decade, and
they still found you, right?”

“Yes, but …”

“So, what if someone else from your past
comes after you next week? And someone else next month? I can’t
live like that, Carlos. With you in my life, I face that risk.
Without you, I’m safe.” Monica looked away from him.

He gave his head a shake. She turned back to
him and they met gazes. She saw the sadness in his eyes. He sighed.
“I love you, Monica.” He turned his back and walked a few steps
away, stopping in front of the vase of roses. “Look, I can’t
guarantee that life with me would be safe, just like I can’t
guarantee that life without me would be safe. You can’t shelter
yourself away, hoping that will save you from the bad things in
life. Because you’ll lose out on all the good things, too.”

He paused and Monica shook her head, the
hopelessness of the situation overtaking her.

“I do know one thing for sure,” Carlos
continued. “You have to allow yourself to feel. Feel everything.
Love and excitement. Pain and fear. It’s a full circle. I can
promise you that full circle with me, Monica. But you have to
choose it. You have to want it as much as I do.”

Monica listened in silence. She’d been so
sure ending it with Carlos was the right thing – painful, but
logical. Now, her head spun and she wanted desperately to go
somewhere quiet and think this through. Yet, she had the second
half of the play to do.

Carlos turned slowly back to her and shrugged
his shoulders. “The ironic thing here,
carina
, is I laid in
that hospital bed and told myself I’d done good. I wasn’t fighting
for the thrill. There was no thrill, just self-protection. I
could’ve done a lot more damage to those guys if I wanted to. But I
held back because I knew the police were coming and would take care
of it. I was proud of the way I handled that fight.” He dropped his
head and gave a sad chuckle. “Little did I know it would be the end
of you and me.”

The lights flickered in the room, a signal
she should be backstage. The guests would be heading back to their
seats. Panic attacked her heart. “I have to go.”

“Of course you do.”

The resignation in his voice brought her to a
halt. She stared at him and her heart sank at the pain so apparent
in his face. “I’m sorry. Can we talk later?”

His eyes narrowed and he plucked a single
rosebud out of the vase and handed it to her. He lingered for a
moment in silence before pushing past her through the open
door.

As she made her way backstage, her hands
shook. She had to focus or she’d totally botch the final act. Could
she give a convincing performance with this hanging over her
head?

Her own fears of a life outside her comfort
zone had forced her decision to break up with Carlos. Her cowardice
about facing a life different than she was used to, made her not
see Carlos’ actions for what they were.

He was a hero and she’d condemned him. She’d
cut him out of her life because of her fear of the threat of
violence, and yet without his protection she could’ve been injured,
raped or killed.

“Earth to Monica.” Steve patted her on the
shoulder. She jerked her attention away from her runaway
thoughts.

“Oh my God, Steve, I’ve made the worst
mistake of my life.”

Steve cocked his mouth up on one side in half
a grin. He glanced at his wristwatch. “During the twenty minute
intermission?”

“Yes! I let my fear drive my actions. I acted
like a coward and he …” She released a huge sigh and felt the
threat of tears, which would totally dismantle her stage
makeup.

Steve pulled her into a hug. “You’re a mess,
aren’t you, sweetie? Listen, just put all that stuff on hold till
the curtain goes down. The guy loves you, I have no doubt. If you
screwed up and you apologize, I’m sure he’ll listen. But you have a
job to do. You have to take this thing home now, Victoria.”

Her face pushed up against Steve’s chest, she
nodded and fought for control over her emotions. He was right. If
she let herself dwell on this, she’d completely fall apart. This
was her dream, after all. How many times had she daydreamed about
this very thing? She wasn’t about to throw it away. When it was
over she could go find Carlos and beg him to listen to her.

She pushed back from Steve. “You’re right.
I’m okay.”

“Good, because the whole second act is
waiting on me to go turn the lights on and Dave is cursing a blue
streak in my ear.” He grinned and put his finger on the mike device
on his headset. He dashed off.

The difference between how Monica approached
the first act and the second, was as opposite as two sides of a
globe. During the first half, she was Monica, dressed in a costume,
reciting her memorized lines and moving around where Dave had told
her to move. In the second act, she was Victoria. She embodied a
character and used the emotions that were simmering below the
surface to deliver her performance. Even as she was going about it,
she knew. This was what acting was all about.

Backstage between scenes, she marveled at the
change in her performance. Maybe she had a future in acting after
all. She scoffed. If she had to have a fight with the man she loved
prior to every performance, it would be her undoing. Then it dawned
on her. Carlos’s advice to allow herself to feel everything – the
good and the bad; pain and excitement; love and hurt – was not only
good advice for living a full life. It was good advice for
actresses as well.

Carlos had made the difference in her
performance. He had taught her to open herself up, to remove the
shield. Only by doing so, could she reach her potential as an
actress.

When the curtain dropped for the final time,
the cast gathered together. The excitement was contagious. They’d
done a great job. Opening night was a success.

Monica’s castmates caught her in a group hug,
aware of the transformation she’d undergone. “Great job, leading
lady!” “Awesome, Monica.” Monica’s head spun. She couldn’t believe
how great she felt, but it was only seconds, because the curtain
call was coming up and they all had to be in a long line for the
final bows, her and Brad in the middle.

Everyone scurried to their spots, happy grins
on their faces. The curtain rose and the applause was spontaneous.
Thunderous sound filled the theater and Monica knew. This is what
all her daydreams were about. Recognition of a fantastic
performance – hundreds of people thanking them for providing that
magical experience a night at the theater can provide, when done
well.

She and Brad bowed last and when she
straightened, Brad squeezed her hand. She looked out at the crowd
and noticed two things – first, she saw Trina sitting in the first
row center, her throat wrapped in a warm scarf, clapping daintily,
a scowl covering her face. Second, the crowd rose to their feet – a
standing ovation for her and Brad.

She looked up at Brad, her smile broad and he
lifted their joined hands into the air. She gazed far back into the
lighting booth. Although she couldn’t make out Steve’s figure, she
pointed at him and gave him a thumbs-up because she knew he’d be
cheering for her.

A glimmer of regret hit her. No one else she
loved was out there – her mom and Barbie were absent, and of
course, Carlos had most likely left after intermission, taking
Luisa with him. But she tucked those negative feelings away. Mom
and Barbie would be here another night. And she had a plan
regarding Carlos – she just hoped he’d listen.

The curtain dropped. The actors headed to the
lobby where they’d stand in a line, shaking hands with guests as
they departed. Happy snippets of conversation floated over them as
they made their way.

Shaking hands with total strangers who
showered praise on her was a brand new experience for Monica.
Pleasant, but a little uncomfortable for someone who spent most of
her time out of the limelight. She watched her co-stars, smiled and
said “Thank you,” a hundred times over. She pushed her discomfort
aside and tried to enjoy it.

What seemed like an eon later, a familiar
face approached. Monica knelt as Luisa stopped in front of her.

“You were so good, Monica! You’re such a
great actress!” The little girl bubbled, then threw herself into
Monica’s outstretched arms.

Her face thrust into Luisa’s hair, she
breathed deep and inhaled the scent of strawberries. So she did
have a loved one in the audience. Luisa had been there, cheering
for her.

But how …?

She pushed Luisa back. “You stayed for the
second half?”

Luisa giggled. “Of course we did! I wouldn’t
miss it.”

She could imagine the scene between Luisa and
Carlos after his exit from the dressing room. He wanted to leave –
Luisa wanted to stay. He gave in because he knew how much it meant
to his sister. The fact that he wasn’t here with them now spoke
volumes.

But it didn’t matter. She couldn’t blame him.
Monica owed it to herself and their future to try and appeal to
him, just as she’d planned.

The line of well-wishers had clogged, so
Monica gave Luisa a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for being here.
It means so much to me. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Luisa nodded. “But wait. Carlos is getting
something for you.”

“Carlos?” Monica scanned the crowded room,
looking for the handsome face she longed to see. He wasn’t there,
just as she suspected. She was sure Carlos wouldn’t have told Luisa
they’d broken up. He would’ve protected her from the details. But
then, what was the little girl talking about?

Then, Monica saw him. Despite the crowd that
filled every inch of the room, he dodged around people, forging a
path to where they stood. Monica’s heart jumped at the sight of
him.

Of course, he was making his way toward
Luisa, so he could take her home.

So why was he wearing a smile that made her
heart race and could induce her to do crazy things? His eyes locked
with hers from across the room. When he approached, he produced the
glass vase of roses from behind his back. She laughed and took
them.

“Fantastic job. You were incredible.”

She shook her head. She was having a hard
time getting over the fact that he had stayed for the whole play.
“Carlos, I’m sorry –“