The Playing Fields

Chapter 35

"I notice you're not as nervous anymore, hon. I told you once you got out there and did it, the jitters would vanish." William sat with his arm around his wife, looking over the script together.

She leaned hard against him, "You're right. When I discovered that I couldn't see the audience, it was just like talking with friends. I think part of the problem was worrying about Candy."

"Candy's fine, and Mary is making more money babysitting than she does at Fifth Dimension." He took his arm away and shifted in the seat, adjusting his trousers.

"You nervous now?"

"No," he snorted. "Just sorting out my plumbing."

"William!" She blushed looking to the others for any reaction.

"What? After that knee polishing remark you're suddenly embarrassed?"

"We were alone then." She chided.

"Yeah, well..."

She put a restraining arm on his fidgeting and changed the subject. "What do you think happened to Ramon?"

"I heard Grace say something to Amanda about a backhand. Maybe Ramon came on to her and she popped him one." He pursed his lips and winked.

"Oh I don't think so." She said primly. "It sounds more like a tennis incident. Ramon wouldn't make advances toward someone of Grace's stature."

"Sure hon."

"Are you and Milo having your little hissy fits again?" Tiffany shook her head disdainfully as Daryl plopped down in the seat next to her.

"I don't have hissy fits, it's that, ego as big as the Goodyear blimp down there, that has hissy fits." He shot a dark look down the row to Milo.

"Daryl, don't be so petty, Milo is just trying to be professional."

"Brrrrraaaaat."

"And don't be rude. Honestly, you two should be in a schoolyard."

"Yeah, well I'd teach him a thing or two if we were." He slumped down, pouting, and acting every bit the put upon schoolboy."

"Oh stop it for heaven's sake." She fluffed the hem of her skirt exposing a little more knee. "Listen, a few of us are staying after to work on the altered scenes, do want to join us?"

"Who?"

"Uhm, Donald, Amanda and... Mil-"

"Of course! The big smooching scene, right?" He jumped up and flung his script on the seat, stomping up the aisle and out of the theatre.

"Is everything all right, Ti?" Ellen perched forward on her seat watching Daryl storm out.

"Nothing a lobotomy wouldn't cure." She sighed, her eyes falling to Ellen's waist where the possessive looking hand of Denise rested. "Are you two staying afterwards?"

"No, uh, Denise is coming back to my place. We have some alterations that need attention, you know, costume adjustments. A nip here, a tuck there." She giggled and squirmed in discomfort, her body language speaking volumes to Tiffany's devious speculation.

"Aha-a-a," she pried subtly. "Jeffrey going to help?"

"Uh, no. He wants to catch up on some work at the office." She patted her hair nervousl., "Something about root canals scheduled for the morning." Her weak smile set like acrylic.

"Poor boy, poking into all those mouths all day would be enough for me... without having to spend my evenings planning the next encounter."

Denise leaned forward, raising a questioning brow.

"Oh it's not every... eve-n-i-n-g..." Ellen's words trailed off, catching the amused glint in Tiffany's eyes.

*****

Amanda stopped outside the stage door, waving good night to a few of the departing members who chose not to stay for any more rehearsals. She rummaged in her purse for her cigarettes and lit one, blowing a blue steam of smoke toward the black sky, and leaned against the cool brick wall. Tonight was as good a time as any, she mused, as a few more of the cast came out the door heading for their cars. Ramon stepped out into the lane behind the theatre, tying the sleeves of his tennis sweater around his neck.

Amanda watched him for a moment, unnoticed, then called softly. "You not staying to practice, Private Courts?"

"Huh?" He turned in the direction of the voice, seeing her shadowy figure propped against the back of the building. "Oh hi, Amanda, nah, I don't think 'Private Courts' needs much rehearsal." He wandered over to her, admiring the curve of long leg as she ground her cigarette out on the pavement.

"No, I guess he doesn't." She smiled, folding her arms and leaning a shoulder back against the wall. "He and Betty have probably taken that scene about as far as they can." Her grin widened as he nodded amusing agreement, trying to smile.

"That must really hurt." She said after a minute, tipping her chin toward his swollen cheek.

"Yeah."

"Grace said something about a backhand..." She teased him with her eyes.

Ramon jammed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looked away. "That bitch."

"Aoooh, am I to assume this wasn't from a tennis lesson?" She grinned at his discomfort.

"I'm the one that got a lesson." He admitted, with humorous guilt.

"Aaah, I thought as much. Maybe you need a new instructor." She pushed off the wall, taking her car keys from her purse, jingling them as she swished provocatively down the lane.

*****

The stage door closed with a solid thunk, and two shadowy figures darted down the lane behind the theatre, emerging onto the residential street alongside the darkened building.

"I thought that meeting would never end." Arlene said, walking quickly to keep pace with Carlos. "I should have been home ages ago."

"Yeah, well if old man Osborne hadn't planted himself out the front, we wouldn't have had to hide and wait for the rest of them to leave."

"He looked really mad, didn't he." She giggled.

"Not mad enough to split though. Here's my car, c'mon."

Carlos drove quickly, using short cuts and side streets to avoid being seen, arriving at the bridge leading into The Paisley Pathway. They could see that some of the neighbours had already made it home from the meeting, and Carlos braked suddenly, killing the headlights and pointing to Arlene's driveway.

"Isn't that Miss Cowley with your mom?"

The two women were unloading boxes from the rear of Ellen's van, laughing and chattering loudly enough to be heard all the way back to the car. Arlene rolled down her window, watching and chewing a nail, wondering how she was going to get in without being noticed.

"Can you slip in the back?" Carlos asked.

"I have to get there first." She worried.

"Just stay down in the seat, I'll pull into our drive and when it's clear, you can nip around and cut through our backyard." He waited until Ellen and Denise carried the boxes up to the front door, then drove quietly up to his parent's drive and coasted to a stop in front of the garage.

"Okay, they can't see you now. Go." Arlene slipped out of the car and dashed down beside the house, stepping through the hedge and across the patio to her back door.

"Whew! These are heavier than I thought." Ellen grinned, setting her carton on the floor and turning to close the door behind Denise, who staggered past, dropping her own load alongside the other.

Arlene watched through the patio doors as the two women disappeared out of sight into the kitchen. Carefully, she slid the door open and stepped inside closing it behind her, and tiptoed across the living room toward the back hall.