Little Disquietude (22 page)

She kept reading. "They liked the costumes.
And the ending."

"What, the part where it says I deliver
cliché well?"

"Well. Give the people what they want," Leah
said.

"No, this is good." Adam snatched the paper
from her. "I can learn from this. He's doing me a favor.
Poe
will be better when it opens again. Maybe we can even do some
tweaking during our run." He took his coffee to the piano and began
pounding at the keys.

Ward settled at the kitchen table beside her.
"Cereal?"

"Thanks."

"How's your date?"

"Upstairs," Leah said.

"Naked?"

"Ward?"

He smiled.

"Drop dead," she said.

"They liked me," he said. "I already got a
call from Florida about a part down there."

She'd skimmed the part about him and didn't
feel a bit guilty.

Sophia came downstairs, also showered,
wearing a white t-shirt and black jeans. She rubbed Leah's back and
asked for aspirin. Ward smirked, but managed not to say anything
while he got it for her, and let her drink it down with a V8 from
the fridge.

"When is lunch with your parents?" Sophia
asked.

"In an hour."

Sophia nodded. She glanced into the living
room, where Adam played scales." That bad?"

"Like killing kittens."

Sophia cringed.

"What are your plans?" Leah asked. "Or, are
you done with--Oh, God, are you done?"

"I have a meeting. I'll be in town
tonight."

Leah nodded, swallowing. Sophia hugged her
but didn't say anything about tomorrow or tomorrow or tomorrow.
Leah tried to content herself with the idea of one last night. She
inhaled and kissed Sophia's collarbone.

Ward sipped orange juice and smiled at them
politely.

* * *

Leah swallowed down the nausea as she let her
father drive the family to Thyme. She chattered on about the
Macbeth
cast party, about meeting the mayor, about the show.
She thought if she just kept talking, the words would come out.

And they did, as soon as the car came to a
stop in the parking space, before Harry could put the car in
park.

"I'm gay," she said.

No one seemed to hear her. She'd barely heard
herself, her pip-squeaking voice not overcoming the roaring in her
ears. Harry put the car in park.

"Guys?" she asked.

Everyone turned around to look at her.

"I..."

Her bowels threatened her. Her stomach
convulsed. If she didn't come out and say it, she'd have to puke in
the bathroom as soon as they got inside the restaurant.

She closed her eyes, and then opened them,
looking directly at her sister. "I'm gay."

Jessica raised her eyebrows.

"So, who wants to eat?" Harry asked.

They trundled into the restaurant, Jessica
stealing glances at Leah, who looked down at the ground. There was
relative silence, punctuated by her mother's cough and Jessica's
solitary comment, "They really do have hushpuppies," until the
drinks were ordered.

"Doesn't anyone have anything to say?" Leah
asked. She had no desire to talk about it, but she still wasn't
quite sure they'd actually heard her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jessica said. Leah
glanced at her and was surprised that she was glaring, and her tone
was accusatory.

"I--" Jessica's question was trumped by her
mother's.

"Does this have anything to do with that girl
we met last night?"

"Sophie?"

"The... ethnic one."

"Mom."

"Well, what do you want me to say? Lady
Macbeth? I don't remember."

"She's from--" Leah tried to remember. They
hadn't exactly discussed parentage all that much. "--Florida," she
finally said.

"She doesn't look Cuban."

"I didn't say she was Cuban, Mom, I just said
she's from Florida. Lots of people are from Florida. There are even
Jews in Florida."

"There are certainly Jews in Florida," Harry
said.

"At least there's a place where you two can
live in harmony," Margaret said, scowling at her. "Plenty of freaks
in Florida." She covered her mouth and said, "I didn't mean--Not
freaks, dear. But, you're an actress. You know what I mean."

"Maybe I can be on
CSI: Miami
," Leah
said, her voice rising.

"Lady Macbeth?" her father asked
helpfully.

Leah put her forehead in her hand. Though she
no longer felt like throwing up, she kind of wanted to kill
someone. She said, "No. Yes. No."

Harry folded his arms and smiled.

"I was--gay--before Sophia."

"Why are you so happy?" Margaret asked
Harry.

"Come on, it had to be one of them."

"Dad!" Jessica squeaked.

Leah bit her lip. The drinks arrived. She
drank half of hers before turning to Jessica and saying, "I'm
sorry."

Jessica didn't say anything, but her
expression softened.

"Well, if we're going to talk about it,"
Margaret said huffily, "What about Adam, dear?"

The waiter came back. He looked to be about
twelve, was covered in acne, and carried a pen and paper with
shaking hands. "What will you have?" he asked.

"Our daughter is gay," Margaret said,
gesturing at Leah.

The waiter got a wild, horrified look in his
eyes, and said nothing, just breathed through his slightly-gaping
mouth, as if he were praying Leah's mother wouldn't say anything
more. Leah prayed with him.

"I'll have the fish and chips," Leah
said.

Jessica snickered.

Leah kicked her under the table.

"Me too," Jessica said.

Margaret coughed. The waiter seemed afraid to
look at her, but dutifully wrote down her salad, and looked at
Harry.

"Fish and chips," Harry said.

Leah smiled.

"Harry," Margaret admonished.

Harry shrugged, and said, "We've got enough
vinegar at the table."

Margaret sighed. She took a sip of her drink
and asked, again, "Adam?"

"What about Adam?"

"Well, you two seemed close."

"We are close," Leah said.

"Don't tease her," Harry said.

Margaret frowned at him.

He asked, "Is Adam gay?"

"You'll have to take that up with him," Leah
said.

Jessica snorted.

Harry blithely sipped at his drink.

Margaret sighed and said, "For years,
darling, since you met that man at the piano or whatever--"

"He's not Billy Joel, Mom."

Margaret ignored her. She went on, "We saw
the way you followed him around, and never had the heart to tell
you that you simply had the wrong equipment. It's almost a relief
to know that you--know."

"I know," Leah said. "I knew."

Harry slapped the table. All three women
looked at him. Leah felt horror rise up in her chest. She
swallowed, but ended up more whimpering. Harry asked, "It was that
Grace woman, wasn't it?"

Leah raised her eyebrows.

"Well?"

"That horrible woman," Margaret said.

"Mom, she didn't turn me gay," Leah said.

"No, of course not, but would it have killed
her to sit down to one family dinner? Just once? Not even for
Thanksgiving. Honestly."

Harry shook his head

Leah considered running to the bathroom to
sob, or melting through the floor, but the food arrived, so she
settled for eating one French fry at a time.

"You were very good in the play, dear," Harry
said.

"Musical, and thanks, Dad."

"You seemed very much in love with Edgar
Allen Poe."

Leah nodded and ate another fry.

"You were a convincing heterosexual. That's
good acting," he said.

Leah dropped her fry remnant into the basket,
and sighed.

Jessica leaned over and whispered, "The
universe is punishing you."

"For what?"

"Being gay?"

"Jessie, you know better than that," Margaret
said.

"Why do you think the universe is punishing
her?"

Margaret looked at Leah, her mouth open as if
she were about to offer a whole list of suggestions. Then she
closed her mouth, and shrugged.

"Maybe she missed a note or something," Harry
said.

"Thanks, Dad."

"Any time, princess."

Jessica snickered.

Leah climbed the porch stairs. A headache
made her neck hurt and the pulse behind her left eye twitch. She
intended to lie in the dark until Adam woke her for show time. The
very bad day of Leah Fisher, Lesbian Daughter, Infamous Actress
was--

She heard singing coming from the living room
as she opened the door. A woman singing.

--Just beginning. She walked in on Sophia
standing by the piano, singing "Think of Me," while Adam played.
Her voice was beautifully operatic, soprano, and controlled.

In that moment, seeing Sophia in her spot,
singing with her friend, Leah hated her. She blinked. Her eyes
blurred with rage. She asked, "What the hell?"

Sophia turned and smiled at her and the happy
radiance virtually burned. Leah rubbed her arms, chafing under
Sophia's pleasure at seeing her. "What's going on?" She asked.

"I'm trying her out on a few things," Adam
said. He half-turned in her direction, but his expression was open.
He hadn't noticed her jealousy.

But Sophia had. Her face fell. She said
nothing, didn't move from the spot.

"For what show?" Leah asked.

"No show. Just, you know, seeing what she
has. I'd like to help her."

Leah fled upstairs.

The piano music resumed.

* * *

Adam came up an hour later, after Leah had
stopped crying. She still felt indulgently childish, and was ready
to fight, ready to yell at him for taking what was hers, and to
yell at Sophia for the same thing.

"She's good," Adam said, leaning in the
doorway.

Leah thought of Sophia on stage, of the few
lines she'd heard of song in the afternoon, and was soothed by the
beauty in her mind. "Of course she's good."

"So are you," he said. He came and sat on the
edge of the bed.

"Am I better?"

"You're completely different. You'll never
compete for the same roles."

It wasn't a direct answer, but she understood
it as truth, and it made her feel less terrified.

"She'll be by tonight." Adam said. "Unless
you tell me to tell her differently."

"What, are we in grade school?"

Adam tilted his head.

She scowled. She knew she was acting five. He
didn't have to remind her. "I'd rather see her in my dressing
room."

"Wearing nothing but a little red bow?"

She smiled.

He patted her leg."How was lunch with your
parents?"

"This is the very bad day of Leah Fisher,"
she said, covering her face with her hands.

"Hey, come on. It's not that bad. Did you
read the review they gave me of
Poe
?"

"That's true." She frowned and uncovered one
eye. "I'm sorry, Adam."

Adam nodded.

"Your day totally sucks worse than mine."

"Nah. You still have to go on tonight. I can
eat Cheetos."

"You wouldn't."

"From the front row. Where you can hear them.
Crunch, crunch," he said.

"Adam."

"Where you can smell them."

She sighed." I'm sorry."

"I know."

Now she felt worse than before. She was
ashamed of herself and couldn't look at Adam any more. She stared
at the ceiling and tried not to cry, because that would give her
another headache. "Am I going to lose her?"

He leaned over and kissed her forehead, and
said, "Not to me."

She closed her eyes.

He got off the bed, and said, "See you at
six."

The show must go on.

* * *

Anger made Leah a better singer. She didn't
care if her voice cracked. But it didn't. She belted her loud notes
and her quiet notes held an intensity that vibrated through her.
Ward performed exactly as he had the first night, unresponsive to
her extra petulance, as tender as before when she finally let him
hold her.

When she rejected him at the fifteen minute
mark in act one, she wept, because it was a horrible thing to
abandon someone. When she coughed up blood, she wanted to apologize
for the anguished look in his eyes. He dabbed at her cheek. She
reminded herself it wasn't real. Just acting. In real life they
couldn't stand each other. Right? Ward began to sing.

* * *

The applause was deafening. Ward squeezed her
hand. They bowed together, and then each alone. No music, no
fanfare. She went backstage to her dressing room. Adam had
instructed her to get back out to the lobby as quickly as she
could, to meet potential backers who could take the show Off
Broadway.

The door partially open, her name taped to
the paint angled, and she pushed it the rest of the way open to
find Sophia sitting on the arm of the couch.

"I couldn't find a bow," Sophia said.

"You don't need a bow."

Sophia tilted her head.

Leah closed the door, and went and put her
hands on Sophia's shoulders. "I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?"

Sophia's voice had a lightness almost felt
sarcastic, but she wore a half-smile. Hopeful. Her hand covered
Leah's. Maybe Leah was being tested; evaluated on a scale of
tenderness to idiocy.

She wanted to prove to Sophia she was not an
ass, and absolve herself of the shame she'd felt later in her
bedroom. She said, "I should have stayed to hear you sing. Adam
said you were beautiful."

Sophia's smile got brighter.

Leah cupped her neck. Sophia leaned into her
touch. "I think my whole family uses insulting humor to cope with
life."

"Yeah?"

"Even my father. Just by being above it all,
he's condemning the rest of us. Just a little snide," Leah
said.