At one-thirty he’s still not bothering me, so I decide to take a nap. It’s still my tea house, my daybed, so I figure I have the right to lie down. I don’t dare get under his covers, that’s way too personal, but I sink into his linen-covered pillow and smell his smell until I fall asleep.
There’s a hand on my shoulder and a person sitting on the side of the bed. I’ve gone into one of those daytime stupors where you wake up and you don’t know where you are. I blink at him. “Oh shit. Sorry. This is your bed. What time is it?”
“It’s two-thirty. I came out to bring you some tea and you were passed out. I guess I was too late.” He’s really close to me. And I’m lying down. I don’t know how I can sit up without getting even closer to him, so I just stay lying down.
“I was writing a lot of really terrible scenes. Bad writing wears me out.” I’m still not entirely awake. “What have you been doing?”
“Pacing. Waiting for you to finish writing.”
My stomach drops. “Oh?” is all I can muster.
“Yeah.” He gets up and starts pacing the short length of the room. “I’m not sure about Arthur. I mean we were ready last night, but today, after a full day of school, he could have forgotten all of it. I mean, what if it’s a disaster?”
Oh, sweet reality. Thank you. I sit up, scoot back, and comb my hair with my fingers. I am a person and a mother again. “Leo, he’s ten. This is an elementary school play. Half the kids will throw up or start crying during the rehearsal. Arthur’ll be fine.”
“What time do we pick him up?”
“Oh my God. Okay.” I stand up and take a deep breath. “I’m really off my game. I’m in charge of the kids during rehearsal, like the ones waiting backstage.” I check my phone. “I’ve got to go.”
Leo follows me out. “I’m coming. You can’t make me wait here.”
“Fine. We’ll leave in ten. I need to organize dinner.”
“I’ll do that. What do we eat on Wednesdays again?”
“Surprise me,” I say.
* * *
? ? ?
I swear we are in slow motion walking past the pickup line into the front entrance of the school. I’d changed into a dress because I know for a fact it’s three hundred degrees inside the auditorium on an April afternoon. “Legs!” Leo said as I came back down the stairs. On my advice, he changed from jeans into linen pants. Leo is absolutely focused, moving like we should have been there hours ago.
We pass through security （“he’s my houseguest”）， and we have to show our drivers’ licenses. The security guard looks at Leo’s and says, “For real?” Leo replies, “？’Fraid so.”
We meet Mrs. Sasaki in the auditorium. “Hi? I’m Nora Hamilton? Arthur’s mom? We’re here to watch the kids backstage?” I’ve met Mrs. Sasaki ten times and have never garnered much interest. Until now. Her eyes move from me to Leo and she actually smiles. “This is my friend Leo. We’ve been working together and he offered to help me with the kids, if that’s okay?”
“Well, of course. Thank you! This is quite unexpected. Call me Brenda. We could use any help you can offer, Mr. Vance. I heard you were in town. I daresay you know a little more about the theater than I do.” Was she flirting with him? I look up at Leo to see how he’s reacting, and he’s smoldering. Smoldering poor Mrs. Sasaki. Poor Mrs. Sasaki who has to go home to poor Mr. Sasaki tonight. I swear Leo’s going to ruin all of us for normal men.
As we make our way to the stage door, I say, “Stop it.”
“What?”
“The smoldering.”
He stops walking. “I don’t smolder you.”
I turn to face him, and I just ask it. “Why not?”
Leo holds my gaze. “I wish I knew.”
Now, there’s only so long you can stand that close to Leo Vance and look into his eyes without melting into molten lava, so I say, “Well, stop smoldering the other unsuspecting middle-aged ladies around here. Come on.”
Bernadette meets us backstage to work as our assistant, but mainly to take a victory lap. No longer would anyone at Laurel Ridge Elementary question the fact that she is very good friends with The Leo Vance.
Arthur walks in, muttering lines to himself, and runs over to Leo. “What are you doing here?”
“Helping?” He shrugs. “You’ve got this, no worries. Just feel it, the whole thing. And eye contact.”