No one paid much attention as the light from the setting city sun spilled in from the side door. Ryan was sitting on the floor of the blackened stage listening to director’s notes and comments from a red-haired stage manager; the small production of The Christmas Toy might have been off-off-Broadway, but it was a paycheck. The first of the read-throughs began this week and today they tried to stage the first scene. His mind was wandering as the majority of the notes weren’t directed at him, when he felt someone staring at him. He turned to see a small frame slink into one of the wings of the stage, taking off her jacket. It was Kaylin, her hair wind-blown and spilling past her shoulders, her smile widening when she sees him turn to see her. He started to pull his legs under him, but with a quick wave of her hand, she silently tells him to keep going, as she sits on a folding chair off to the side of the stage.
He smiled and took a swig from his water bottle, doing a silent inventory of himself. He ran a hand through his thick, black hair and tensed his arms to see if there are any perspiration marks on his grey shirt while the stage manager, Sharon, went over the missed marks and director’s notes, Ryan nodded understanding and tried to keep his focus, but his eyes kept stealing glances at where Kaylin was sitting, relaxed, and smiling at the crew members who were busy trying to get the scenery up and the stage cleared off. She kept her voice low and talked to some of them, obviously having worked with them before. Ryan was giddy, and annoyed with himself for it: she has shown up unannounced at one of his rehearsals, and rather than be annoyed as would be his norm, he was ecstatic. He hadn’t seen Kaylin since Saturday when she left him unfulfilled and all-too eager to see her again.
Sharon wrapped up the debriefing session and as the rest of the cast began to disperse and gather up their winter accessories, Ryan turned to Kaylin and gave her a wide smile. “Hey! Fancy seeing you here,” he quipped trying to keep his voice even; he was excited to see her.
“Hey yourself,” she stood up and embraced him, her smell of lavender and the cold city wrapped around him as he squeezed her back, “I hope you don’t mind my coming by, I had a voice lesson today and it turns out you’re on the way.”
“Not at all. It’s a nice surprise,” he was still smiling. He let his hand stay at the small of her back as she released his hug. She didn’t move away, and her eyes held his. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He curled his fingers into her white, long-sleeved tee shirt as he stamped down on the intense urge within him to lean down and kiss her. Kiss her like he did just a few nights ago to remind himself that the heat of the night had been a reality and not just a beer-fueled memory.
“Well, I felt bad about not being able to return your call on Wednesday, and I was in the neighborhood, so I dropped in to see if you were available for dinner?” her hand moved up his arm still around her and stopped on his bicep, her teeth lightly biting on her bottom lip, but her eyes never diverted from his. Before he can think, his smile widens and he nods.
"Absolutely. Let me just get my things,” he moved to gather up his coat and messenger bag.
“You know,” he said trying to sound nonchalant, “I thought you didn’t call me back because you were punishing me for waiting so long to call you.” She shrugs into her coat and gave him a look like he was crazy.
“I don’t play those games,” she said in all seriousness although the smile is there in her eyes. She silently followed him out the side door and stood out on the sidewalk under the ever-present scaffolding patiently while he signed out of the practice and said goodbye. He had a moment to think about turning his cell phone back on but, noticing how she looks, standing on the street, smiling at the strangers scrambling past her, the sun framing her in gold, he decided to leave it off.
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