Spreadsheets and Bedsheets (Havenwood #1)

27

ELLIOTT

T he late July evening air was warm and heavy, its humid embrace carrying the distant, rhythmic hum of cicadas as Caleb and I made our way to Sorella’s, a quaint, family-owned Italian restaurant nestled just off Havenwood’s main thoroughfare. The setting sun spilled a molten, golden glow across the storefronts, bathing the neighborhood in a soft, amber light, while the lingering heat of the day gradually softened into a more comfortable, soothing warmth. Stepping inside, we were immediately met by a chilled caress from the air-conditioning, a pleasant counterpoint to our flushed, sun-kissed faces, and the rich, intoxicating aroma of simmering garlic and freshly picked basil wrapped around us like a welcoming embrace. The interior exuded cozy charm, its warm lighting caressing every corner, while the gentle strains of a soft piano melody danced amid the delicate clinking of glasses and the low murmur of hushed, contented conversations.

Caleb tugged at the collar of his crisply pressed button-up shirt, his eyes darting around the room with childlike curiosity. “This place is fancy,” he remarked, his voice blending exhilaration with a hint of mild unease.

“It’s not too fancy,” I replied with a light-hearted chuckle, expertly adjusting my tie. “But I thought we could make a night of it, a delicious dinner paired with an enchanting show. After all, it isn’t every day that you get to witness a live Shakespeare production.”

A playful grin spread across his face as he slid into the booth opposite me. “True. I’ve never seen one. We discussed A Midsummer Night's Dream in class last year, but all we got to do was read excerpts. It was kind of cool to imagine, though.”

Our conversation was momentarily paused as a courteous server glided by, replenishing our water glasses with crystal-clear liquid as we placed our orders. Caleb chose a steaming plate of spaghetti and meatballs, the savory aroma promising a delightful meal, while I opted for the classic, comforting allure of chicken parmesan.

As the server retreated, Caleb leaned forward eagerly. “So, Jules is really calling the shots here, right? Basically, the big boss?”

“Pretty much,” I affirmed with a nod. “He’s the director, the heartbeat behind it all, running rigorous rehearsals, coordinating with the designers, and making sure every intricate detail comes together flawlessly.”

“That has to be a lot of pressure,” he observed, his eyes widening with genuine admiration. “But he seems incredibly good at it. You mention him all the time.”

I paused, my thoughts fluttering as I searched for the right words. “It’s a massive project, no doubt. And Jules… he’s not just talented, there’s something about him that’s really special. I’m excited for you to see the show.”

“Me too,” Caleb said earnestly, his fingers absently twirling the rim of his water glass. After a moment, he leaned in with a mischievous smile. “So, tell me, are you two... I mean, are you guys going to be boyfriends?”

The question took me by surprise, and I blinked as I strove to mask my surprise with neutrality. “I… well…” I began, my voice honest yet tentative. “Would you be okay with that?”

“I like him,” Caleb declared without hesitation, his tone sincere. “He’s funny, kind, and it’s obvious how happy you are when you talk about him. So, yeah, I’d love it if you two were together.”

A warm, comforting glow spread through my chest at his words, though I maintained an even tone. “What would you think if… one day, Jules moved in with us? I mean, this is your home too. I’d want to make sure you’re comfortable with that kind of change.”

Caleb’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he nodded enthusiastically. “Are you kidding? That would be so fun! Jules is awesome, he’d definitely bring a lot of personality and energy to the house.”

I laughed, shaking my head in amusement. “He’d certainly add his own unique flair to everything. But right now, it’s just an idea. Nothing has been set in stone.”

“Still,” he said with a wide grin, “I’d be cool with it.”

Just then, our meals arrived, interrupting our conversation. We settled into a pleasant rhythm of easy chatter about Caleb’s eventful week, the little highlights of our time together, and his excitement over the upcoming Marvel movie he was already planning to watch with his friends back home. The food was nothing short of exquisite, and in a playful mishap, Caleb managed to smudge marinara sauce onto his chin, a detail he only noticed when I extended a napkin toward him with a teasing, pointed look.

By the time we stepped out of the restaurant, the sinking sun had dipped behind the horizon, leaving the streets of Havenwood’s Rivermere District bathed in the soft, warm glow of streetlights and emitting a noticeably cooler, crisper air than what we had left behind at dinner. As we strolled along the sidewalk, Caleb casually looped his arm around mine, his bubbling excitement clearly visible.

“Dad, this is going to be amazing,” he exclaimed, his voice bubbling with anticipation as he practically bounced on his heels. “I can’t wait to see how they bring all that magic to life with Puck and the fairies.”

I smiled, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You’re going to love it. Jules has put his heart and soul into making it something truly special.”

As we meandered toward the Playhouse, our conversation drifted effortlessly from the heavenly taste of the cannolis we savored for dessert to reminiscences of a fun-filled day at the pool earlier in the week, and even to a playful recount of the video game where Caleb had bested me this very morning. Yet, quietly echoing in the back of my mind were the gentle reverberations of Caleb’s words about Jules, a small spark of hope kindling within me as I pondered the intriguing, unfolding possibilities that the future might hold for all of us.

The Havenwood Playhouse hummed with anticipation that night, its historic walls alive with the gentle murmur of animated conversation and the soft, deliberate rustle of freshly printed playbills. Overhead, the chandeliers cast a warm, inviting glow that danced off the polished wooden beams, bathing the room in a cozy, intimate light that promised an evening of enchantment. It was an ideal evening for the opening night of A Midsummer Night’s Dream , and for Caleb, it was his first foray into the magic of live theater.

As Caleb and I strolled through the ornate lobby, I couldn’t help but notice how he positively stood out in the most endearing way. His crisp, white button-up shirt, sleeves casually rolled to just below the elbows, and his dark, neatly pressed slacks exuded an air of refined, polished confidence. I had chosen a light blue shirt layered under a tailored jacket paired with slacks, striking just the right balance between casual comfort and special occasion flair. Caleb, clearly wrestling with his own teenage awkwardness, tugged self-consciously at his collar.

“Do I really have to wear this?” he murmured, giving me a sidelong glance as he fumbled with the button at his throat.

“You look great,” I replied with a warm smile. “We both do. Besides, it’s opening night; you’ve absolutely got to look the part.”

A hesitant grin broke across his face. “You mean like someone who actually gets Shakespeare?”

“Exactly,” I laughed softly, guiding him toward the grand entrance to the theater.

The massive wooden doors of the Playhouse stood proudly beneath a cascade of soft white lights that draped delicately over clusters of arriving patrons dressed in semi-formal attire. Caleb’s pace quickened as we neared the threshold, his wide eyes absorbing every intricate detail of the building’s architecture.

“This place is enormous,” he whispered in awe, craning his neck to study the detailed carvings and historic flourishes that told stories of years past.

“It’s one of Havenwood’s gems,” I said, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder as I led him through the ornate doors. “You haven’t even seen the inside yet.”

Inside, the lobby was a feast for the senses, the rich, almost velvety aroma of polished wood mingled with the crisp scent of newly printed programs and delicate floral notes, all underscored by the excited hum of the gathering crowd. Caleb’s gaze flitted from the glimmering crystal chandeliers overhead to the detailed posters adorning the walls, each poster a vibrant echo of past productions. Captivated, he breathed out in wonder.

“Whoa,” he whispered, his voice filled with astonishment. “This is like a scene out of a movie.”

“Told you it would be special,” I said, handing him a playbill and carefully tucking mine into the pocket of my jacket.

Caleb’s fingers traced the glossy pages as his expression shifted from curiosity to intense focus while he scanned the cast list. “Do you think they’ll have real trees onstage for the enchanted forest?” he asked, his tone laced with wonder.

“Not actual trees,” I chuckled lightly, “but knowing Jules, every bit of it will feel pure magic.”

His grin broadened with excitement. “I can’t wait.”

We wandered over to a quaint side table that offered refreshments, where Caleb eagerly grabbed a glass filled with sparkling lemonade. As he sipped, his eyes caught sight of an elegantly dressed older couple, their attire impeccable and clearly formal. Nudging me gently with his elbow, he whispered, “Are we underdressed?”

I shook my head with a smile. “Not at all. We’re perfectly at ease, comfortable yet polished. It’s about the experience, not just the wardrobe.”

A soft bell chimed to announce the opening of the auditorium doors, and as the crowd began to stir, a familiar, lively group made their entrance into the lobby. A large assembly of kids from the GSA, led by the ever-enthusiastic Maya and Jayden, burst in with radiant energy, their excited chatter creating a joyful backdrop. They wore vibrant pins and spirited shirts in support of the production, some even carrying small bouquets of fresh flowers. My heart swelled seeing them come together, united in their admiration for Jules.

Just then, as my attention was drawn back to Caleb, Anna appeared by the entrance, scanning the bustling room for us. Dressed simply yet elegantly in a navy dress that complimented her auburn hair pulled back loosely, her warm smile lit up her face at the sight of us.

“Mom!” Caleb called out, waving her over with uncontained delight.

Anna quickly joined us, her heels clicking softly on the polished floor as she wrapped Caleb in a quick, affectionate hug before turning toward me with genuine warmth in her eyes. “This place is stunning,” she remarked, her gaze slowly drifting over the beautifully lit space.

“It truly is,” I agreed softly. “Jules has poured so much heart into making this show something extraordinary.”

With a playful raised brow and teasing smile, Anna replied, “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

We then found our seats in the heart of the theater, perfectly positioned to command a full view of the stage. Caleb nestled between Anna and me, his excitement visibly bubbling as he bounced slightly in his seat while flipping through the program once more.

“Thanks for bringing me, Dad,” he said, leaning in closer so his words might be heard, “This is really cool!”

I smiled, gently squeezing his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, buddy.”

Anna’s eyes softened with unspoken gratitude as she glanced at me before we settled into our seats. The theater itself buzzed with the kind of anticipation that filled every historic nook of the venue, its worn wooden beams and ambient lighting exuding an intimate, almost magical warmth. Sam and Callie joined our group shortly thereafter. When I shifted in my seat, the creak of the wooden chair echoed softly as I tried to calm the nervous flutter in my chest. The air carried a delightful medley, the nostalgic aroma of old wood, the subtle scent of stage dust, and the sweet hint of lavender from a single flower tucked safely beneath my jacket, a quiet tribute to Jules’ vibrant energy and his remarkable ability to transform chaos into art.

Sam leaned in, his voice low and tinged with playful mischief, “You look like you’re about to take a final exam.”

I laughed, adjusting my glasses with one hand while my other hand rested thoughtfully on the playbill. “Just hoping everything runs smoothly.”

Callie swirled the cocktail they’d picked up in the lobby, the clinking of ice a soft musical note against the glass. With a knowing grin, they said, “Teach, have a little faith. Jules has been pouring his soul into this for months. It’s going to be incredible.”

I nodded silently, my eyes fixed on the stage where the curtains lay shrouded in darkness, even as my imagination leapt to visions of Jules backstage, a whirlwind of clipboard-clad determination, issuing final technical notes, rallying his cast with pep talks, and orchestrating last-minute adjustments with the precision of a maestro. He lived for these moments, the energy, the pressure, and the unbridled artistry that defined his very essence. It was one of the many things I adored about him, even as I wondered if I’d ever truly keep pace with his relentless passion.

As the house lights gradually dimmed, a hush of collective expectancy fell over the room, silencing the murmur of the audience. The deep crimson curtains parted to reveal a stage metamorphosed into an ethereal woodland; glowing hues, carefully suspended lights, and artful touches of painted magic turned the set into a shimmering dreamscape. The first tender notes of the music swelled, drawing us irrevocably into the world of A Midsummer Night’s Dream .

My breath caught in awe as the palpable tension filled the room. My fingers clutched the playbill a little tighter as the first actor stepped boldly into the light, their voice clear, resonant, and inviting, wrapping the audience deeper into the unfolding tale.

Leaning in once more, Callie whispered, “I can spot Jules’ touch in every detail of this scene. The lighting? It’s undeniably pure Jules.”

I beamed with pride as my heart swelled. As the actors gracefully danced through the opening scene, gentle laughter rippled through the audience at Puck’s mischievous antics, and a soft tear of emotion threatened to escape during Titania’s tender moments. I blinked rapidly, trying to quell the stir of emotions, yet it was impossible to disregard the overwhelming brilliance of the moment. Jules’ vision had come alive on stage, inviting every visitor into a realm of enchantment and wonder.

As dialogue replaced the musical overture, the interplay among the performers grew wonderfully sharp and effortlessly fluid. The laughter, the spellbound silence during introspective moments, and the commanding presence of Oberon as he fully embodied the king of the fairies, all came together in perfect harmony. Jules had succeeded magnificently. He transformed the entire experience into something truly extraordinary.

At one point, I felt Caleb’s hand brush mine gently on the armrest as he leaned forward, his eyes fiercely glued to the mesmerizing stage. Anna’s tender smile, with her hand resting lightly on his shoulder, said it all. In that moment, for the first time in what felt like ages, everything was exactly as it should be.

The applause that erupted at the end of the show was like a rumbling storm, a thunderous ovation that could only be earned by the flawless enchantment of exquisite storytelling. The entire audience surged to their feet in a collective exultation, clapping and cheering as the cast took their bows, each gesture a testament to the magic woven on stage. The actors, radiant in the fading glow of stage lights, wore smiles that were as bright as the glittering stars above, their palpable joy mingling with the warm, lingering energy of the crowd. My hands ached from the relentless clapping, yet that minor sting was drowned out by the overwhelming swell of pride that filled my heart. Jules had truly done it.

I cast my gaze to the right and saw Anna and Caleb rising amidst the sea of fans. Caleb’s face shone with unbridled excitement, his eyes sparkling like polished gems as he kept his unwavering focus on the stage. Beside him, Anna, usually a picture of composure, now had glistening tears dancing in her eyes, her smile tender and brimming with pride as if each drop carried a memory of hope and admiration.

“Wow,” Caleb breathed, his voice trembling with awe. “That was… absolutely amazing.”

Anna nodded slowly, her delicate fingers dabbing at her eyes with a crumpled tissue drawn from her bag, her tone warm and husky as she added, “Incredible.” Turning to me, she rested a gentle hand on my arm as if to share the intimate intimacy of this moment. “You must be so proud of Jules. This was simply beautiful.”

“I am,” I murmured, my voice soft yet loaded with emotion, each word filled with the quiet resonance of heartfelt pride.

As the house lights gradually crept up, signaling that the night was drawing to a close, I remained seated, my eyes magnetically locked on the stage. Though Jules had vanished into the wings at the fall of the curtain, I could still catch the faint echo of his laughter mingling with the excited backstage chatter, each sound a warm caress that filled me with a cozy, lingering glow.

Callie sat beside me, their empty glass a silent witness to the night’s exhilaration. Observing my rapt expression, they offered a teasing smile. “Proud of him, huh?” they quipped, their tone light but unmistakably infused with affection and genuine admiration.

I nodded, a small, almost involuntary smile gracing my lips as I confessed, “More than he probably realizes.”

Nearby, Sam rose with a dramatic stretch, his movements theatrical as he scooped up his coat. “I’m heading for the exit before the lobby turns into a full-blown mob scene. You two on board?” he called out playfully.

Callie waved off Sam’s departing figure, their attention still centered on me. “I’ll catch up later,” they replied, a glimmer of amusement dancing in their eyes. “Someone’s got to make sure Teach doesn’t spontaneously combust.” Sam chuckled, throwing me a wink as he melted into the dispersing crowd.

Callie leaned in closer, their voice dropping to a softer, more confidential tone. “You know,” they murmured, sincerity sharpening their words, “Jules doesn’t let just anyone into his world. He’s truly lucky to have you.”

Startled by the uncharacteristic earnestness, I glanced at them with a gentle laugh. “I’m the lucky one,” I replied simply, the truth of the sentiment vibrating between us.

Before Callie could add more, my attention was snared by the stage. Jules had reappeared, pulled back into the limelight as the actor embodying Puck practically vibrated with uncontained excitement. The entire cast swarmed around him, their cheers and laughter resonating like a joyful symphony as they enfolded Jules in a raucous group hug.

Jules’ smile was incandescent, his arms enwrapping his fellow actors as they exchanged high-fives and embracing hugs. He was unmistakably in his element, his brilliance radiating with every spontaneous laugh and every sincere gesture, all under the dazzle of the stage lights that bathed him in an ethereal glow. I found myself unable to tear my eyes away from the scene.

Then, as if conjured by a shift in the air, my gaze caught sight of a statuesque woman making her way toward Jules with an air of authoritative grace. With her silver-streaked dark hair impeccably styled into a sleek bob and a tailored emerald green suit that seemed to whisper confidence and professionalism, she was the embodiment of poise. A silk scarf, meticulously tied at her neck, added a touch of elegance to her commanding presence. Her piercing blue eyes, sharp and reflective, swept over the room with calculated precision before locking onto Jules.

Leaning in ever so slightly, her voice dropped to a low, smooth cadence, a private murmur meant to keep their conversation hidden from prying ears while still carrying a determined insistence. Jules nodded in response, his posture shifting in subtle acknowledgment, a mix of respectful attentiveness and a flicker of unease dancing in his demeanor as Margaret escorted him backstage. The encounter was brief, yet it weighed on the atmosphere like an unanswered question, stirring a flicker of curiosity and concern in my chest.

Ever observant, Callie leaned closer, their eyes narrowing as they whispered, “That’s Margaret Caldwell, the board president of Havenwood Playhouse. I wonder what’s brewing there.” Their tone was casual, yet the intrigue was as palpable as the electric energy that still hummed in the air.

“I don’t know,” I murmured in reply, my voice barely above a whisper.

As the echoes of applause and laughter began to fade into the backdrop of the night, I continued to watch Jules and Margaret converse, the significance of their interaction settling around me like an inescapable shadow. Whatever the nature of their discussion, I had no doubt that Jules would confront it with the same grace and untamed passion he brought to every performance. Still, the nagging curiosity within me yearned to understand every nuance of the moment.

Slowly, as the vibrant crowd began to disperse, Anna and Caleb turned their attention back to me. Caleb stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me in a heartfelt hug, his embrace warm and sincere as he said, “That was so cool, Dad. You need to tell Jules he did an amazing job!”

Anna moved in close, her eyes still shimmering with unshed tears, and enveloped me in a tender, brief embrace. “Elliott, tonight was incredible,” she whispered softly, the excitement in her tone melding with a deep, resonating pride. “Jules is so talented, please send him our heartfelt congratulations.”

“I will,” I promised, my voice catching with emotion as I returned Caleb’s hug one more time. “I’ll see you soon, buddy. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” he replied with a radiant smile before stepping back into the dimming throng of the exiting crowd.

With one final, lingering smile from Anna, they vanished into the receding crowd, their words echoing in my mind as I turned back toward the stage. I clutched a delicate lavender flower tightly in my hand, a small token that felt as symbolic as it was beautiful. Tonight was not merely a celebration of the play; it was a heartfelt tribute to Jules, whose brilliant, chaotic soul had, once again, lit up our worlds.

The Havenwood Playhouse began to empty at a slow pace, the vibrant buzz of opening night still clinging to the walls like a delicate veil, even as patrons and cast members emerged into the enveloping warmth of the night. I lingered just outside the stage door, leaning casually against the timeworn brick wall, a single lavender bloom cradled gently in my hand. The soft, soothing fragrance of the lavender intertwined gracefully with the crisp, cool evening air, and I found myself silently rehearsing the words I longed to share. I desperately wanted him to know the depth of my pride.

At last, the door creaked open, and there he was. Jules emerged, his presence still crackling with electric fervor despite traces of exhaustion etched around his eyes and on his face. His hair was artfully tousled, and his cheeks bore a lingering flush from the exhilaration of the performance. There was an unmistakable aura about him, a vibrant, contagious confidence that had first captivated me from the moment we met.

"Hey, Teach," he greeted warmly, his voice carrying the softness of fatigue blended with genuine affection. "Been waiting long?"

"Not at all," I replied, straightening up and extending my hand to offer the lavender bloom. "This is for you."

At those words, his features softened further. His lips curled into a gentle, appreciative smile as he accepted the flower. "You’re such a romantic," he teased, lightly twirling the stem between his fingers as if savoring each moment. "It’s absolutely adorable."

I chuckled and felt the tension in my chest dissolve bit by bit. "I mean every word. You were simply mesmerizing tonight."

For a brief moment, Jules lowered his head, and I noticed a shy blush coloring his cheeks even in the dim glow of the exit. "Thanks," he murmured, his tone barely above a whisper, loaded with the weight of his gratitude. "Hearing that from you, it means more than you know."

Unable to keep the warmth from my voice, I added, "You’re not the only one who was impressed. Caleb and Anna couldn’t stop singing your praises. They had to leave to get on the road, but they insisted I tell you how utterly blown away they were by the performance."

His smile broadened and his eyes shimmered with grateful delight. "That truly means a lot. I'm glad they enjoyed it."

Just then, I hesitated, then gently inquired, "I couldn’t help but notice that the board president pulled you aside after the show. Is everything alright?"

Jules’s eyes met mine, and for a fleeting moment, his expression was unreadable, a blend of vulnerability and pride. Then, gradually, a broad grin unfolded, mixing disbelief with elation. "She asked me to consider becoming the Playhouse’s artistic director."

Those words hung between us like a fragile, luminous promise. I blinked, absorbing the magnitude of what he had just shared. "Jules," I breathed, my voice imbued with wonder and heartfelt excitement, "that’s... absolutely incredible."

He nodded slowly, his smile growing even wider as his gaze shifted down to the lavender still clutched in his hand. "It's a lot to think about, a huge step forward. But it feels right, like I'm finally on the path that matters."

"You are," I said without hesitation, conviction resonating in every syllable. "You absolutely are."

Stepping closer, Jules let his fingers casually brush against mine as our eyes locked in a silent exchange of understanding. "I couldn’t have done this without you, you know," he confessed softly.

I shook my head, my steady voice carrying the truth of my feelings. "This was all you. I'm just incredibly lucky to witness it all."

His smile softened into something more intimate, as if veiling a secret promise, while he leaned in to press a lingering, tender kiss upon my cheek. The warmth of that kiss lingered long after he pulled away, leaving an indelible trace of affection. He held my gaze a little longer, his eyes revealing unspoken tenderness and shared dreams.

Then, with a sudden playful shift, his grin turned mischievous. "You know, I was thinking of saying we should head home, but Callie and Sam are already texting me about the after-party at the Taproom."

I laughed, shaking my head in mock exasperation. "Of course they are. Do we even have a choice in this matter?"

"Not really," Jules quipped, effortlessly slipping his hand into mine and interlocking our fingers. "But it promises to be a blast. And tonight, Teach, tonight is all about celebrating you, me, and everything we've built together."

With that, he gently tugged me toward the street, his laughter echoing into the night as we stepped into our shared future, a celebration not just of his success, but of the deep, unwavering foundation of trust and love that made moments like this extraordinarily unforgettable.