Did Someone Say Fabric?
DID SOMEONE SAY FAbrIC?
“You look like you’re getting comfortable,” Dorothy said.
“Firefly is growing on me,” I admitted.
“What can I start you with? Coffee?”
“Do you have?—”
“I can assure you, we do not.”
“You don’t even know?—”
“You were going to ask for a fancy coffee. It has an accent, doesn’t it? Probably from a country I haven’t heard of.”
“How do?—”
“I’ll make sure it’s not the instant coffee.”
She led me to a table and dropped a menu in front of me. She had gotten over her blushing, and for the first time, I caught sight of the real woman behind the apron. Dorothy had been doing this long enough that she’d developed the ability to predict orders.
“I’ll have whatever you recommend.”
She smiled. “That’s more like it. I’ll make sure there’s extra bacon.”
Bobby: Today is a roof, leaky water heater, and putting in flower beds.
Chris: You’re in high demand.
Bobby: Need me to check your pipes?
Chris: Well… now I do!
I snorted. We had been texting back and forth since visiting the site of his future cabin. While the conversation continued to be laced with sexual innuendo, I found myself amazed at his ability to come up with solutions. Every time he sent a selfie of himself standing victorious next to a repaired door or working dishwasher, Bobby’s pride in a job well done warmed my heart.
Every time our texts turned toward the future, I pivoted. Thinking about the long term didn’t scare me… not usually. Then again, I hadn’t met a guy I craved getting to know. He asked me about my work or about my favorite roles, but he didn’t turn into a fan. Was this how normal people got to know one another? Were we dating?
I snorted again. I was definitely dating my fake boyfriend.
“You!”
The ladies that were knitting in the corner and I all turned to the door. Unlike the knitters with their white hair, our newcomer had a flaming red mohawk with the sides of her head shaved. Did her shoulders slump in defeat because nobody reacted to her dramatic entrance?
“Me?” There was nobody else sitting in my corner. She worked her way through the bistro before sitting across from me. I recognized her as the artist from Jason’s comic shop, but for the life of me, I couldn’t recall her name.
“We need to talk.”
“Am I in trouble? You’re giving off angry mom vibes.”
Her jaw dropped. “Ouch. You wound me.” She leaned back, her face scrunched up in disapproval. “How goes hiding from the paparazzi?”
It was my turn to frown. When she flashed a grin, I realized she was messing with me. “So far, so good. Though, I’m realizing reporters have nothing on Firefly’s rumor mill.”
“Oh, just wait till one of the hard-of-hearing guys gets a phone call. They’ll think 'actor' is 'tractor,' and suddenly we have famous farm equipment.”
I wanted to say she was bluffing, but after meeting Harvey and Walter, I could see it happening. I’d need to ask Bobby if he had ever ridden a tractor. Or was that one of those things they taught them in grade school?
“I wanted to have a chat with you.”
“Okay.” I tried to hide my suspicion.
“Your movie bombed.”
“Trust me, I know.”
“It shouldn’t have. It’s the best thing you’ve ever done.”
Okay, she had my attention. I heard some people liked it, and even though it had an intriguing idea, nobody complimented my performance. I wished I could get her on tape and send it to Gail Simmons.
“Thanks… I think.”
“Don’t get me wrong, the whole Centurion movie is great. You do an awesome job of portraying Valiant. Blah, blah, blah.” For the life of me, I couldn’t remember her name. Despite that, I appreciated her candid delivery. Where was she taking this?
“But you’re better than that.” She leaned forward, holding a hand to her mouth. “If you tell Jason I said that, I have places to hide your body.” I didn’t doubt her. “He’d double my rent.”
I could see why she and Jason got along. She dropped a book on the table and shoved it in front of me. It wasn’t the first time somebody put a script in front of me and suggested I take it to the studios. If only it was that simple.
I spotted her name on the cover. “Amanda!”
“Did you forget my name?”
“No.” Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe.”
“I’ll forgive you if you check it out.”
“You know I don’t have any sway with the studios. I could give it to?—”
She leaned across the table, her hand resting on the cover. When our eyes locked, I spotted that wild look all the people of Firefly had. She spun it around, putting it directly in front of me.
“I know everybody knows you as this big-shot Hollywood actor. You’ve been blown up in every vehicle imaginable. But… the guy in Soft Spoken , he was trying to do something different.”
“Look at how that turned out.” I wished more people thought like her. I knew the industry was turbulent, with ups and downs. At the same time, it upset me that headlines suggested I was a two-dimensional actor who should stay in his lane.
“If you want to remake that image and leave something important behind…” She looked down at the manuscript. “I think it’d be perfect for you.”
Rarely did I ever open an unsolicited manuscript. Amanda had an intensity that piqued my interest. What else did I have going on? My days were spent wandering and texting Bobby. It’d at least give me some reading material while lying in bed.
I glanced at the illustration on the cover. “Perfect for me? It’s about a teenager.”
She got up, the smirk tugging at the corner of her lip. “Who said anything about you acting in it?”
Dorothy arrived, dropping an omelet with an unhealthy amount of bacon. When she set the coffee in front of me, I could tell by the acrid smell it was about as basic as they came.
“Think about what I said.” Amanda reached out, snatched a stick of bacon, and gave a slight wave as she skipped to the door.
“Is she always that intense?”
“Honey, you don’t know the beginning of it. Careful with her; she knows where to hide bodies.” When I stared up at Dorothy, she let out a little laugh. “We’re eccentric, not crazy. It’s a delicate balance.”
Dorothy wandered over to the knitters, leaving me to enjoy my omelet. I stared at the image of the kid on the cover. Wearing red flannel, similar to Bobby’s, comic books flew around him, opened to pages of heroes striking classic poses. It appeared to be another superhero project, and I wondered why she thought this would differ from my usual role as an action hero.
My phone interrupted the thought, vibrating across the table.
Bobby: I am victorious!
He sent a photo of himself flexing in front of a water heater. The rugged teddy bear always left me smiling. I had to stop and gawk, studying his eyes. Something about the way he enjoyed every moment of life made me reconsider Amanda’s suggestion. Maybe I needed to shake things up if I wanted to grow beyond an action hero.
Chris: The only thing hotter than the water…
Bobby: I’ll show you just how hot.
Chris: Keep threatening me with a good time.
Bobby: Up for some more Maine fun?
Chris: Are we going potato picking?
Bobby: Wrong season, but almost as exciting!
Chris: I look forward to it.
And I’d spend the day wondering what adventures awaited me.
Laurel: Can you talk to her?
Chris: Me?
Laurel: Use some of that Hollywood charm.
Chris: You want me to seduce her?
Laurel: Ew. No. Wrong charm!
Laurel: Pleeeeeeease.
Chris: I’ll see what I can do.
Laurel: Good luck.
When I opened the door, the bell above it jingled, and the scent of aged paper and mothballs filled my nostrils. Gladys wasn’t behind the counter, which meant she was hiding somewhere in Twice-Told Tales, ready to jump out and scare the crap out of me. I inched my way inside, alert and ready for her.
“Gladys?”
She sprang up from behind the counter. I tried to hide the slight jump. Clad in another cardigan, she had a beaming smile stapled on her face, a complete turnaround from her demeanor the first time I walked in.
“Chris, I’m glad to see you!”
“I needed to?—”
“Flannel shirts? Knitted caps? What can I do for you?”
“Could you?—”
“Still chilly? We can find a thicker jacket.”
“I needed to ask you about costumes,” I blurted out before she could interrupt. Gladys had gone from standoffish to being a little too helpful.
“Costumes?”
“For the play.”
She leaned back, hand pressed against her cheek as she thought about it. Her eyes darted back and forth, and I imagined her rolling through the catalog of inventory. I bet Gladys knew the location of every item in the store without a second thought.
“For Peter Pan ?” She hemmed and hawed. “I might have something that would work for Hook. But Lost Boys? I don’t think I have anything wild and woodsy.”
I wanted to scoff but thought it rude. Gladys didn’t seem to realize she had a treasure trove of wild items scattered about the shop. If we looked hard enough, I wouldn’t be shocked to find a pirate ship stashed away in one of those closets. Maybe if I took a look?—
“This is a job for the Sewing Guild.”
“Can you introduce me?”
Gladys leaned her head to the side, eyes looking past me. When I turned, a short white-haired woman in a patchwork shirt appeared as if by magic. While her top might be bold squares of neon colors, I focused on her enormous eyes, almost twice the normal size thanks to the oversized, thick glasses.
“Gloria.” Her hand shot out.
“Chris.” When I took her hand, she gave it a vigorous shake. She beamed energy, as if her body couldn’t contain it all. “I’m helping Laurel with the play and?—”
“You need better costumes? Did you see their Christmas play? The parents mean well, but those elves were positively dreadful. Little Mark’s tunic fell off halfway through the show. I give him props for not stopping.”
“Do you think?—”
“We could help? Honey, this sounds like a sewing emergency.”
“Anything would?—”
“Be an improvement?” I should stop trying to talk. Gloria could have an entire conversation with me, and I wouldn’t need to speak. “We’d be glad to help. We’ll need measurements. Of course, we have plenty of scrap fabric.”
She walked circles around me as she muttered to herself. Gladys had gone back to scribbling something in her notebooks while I tried to keep up with Gloria. It wasn’t a huge favor, especially not for someone obviously talented with a sewing machine. Gloria mumbled something about mobilizing the troops.
She stopped her pacing, giving me a curious glance. “Wait, are you Bobby’s man friend?”
We almost went through an entire interaction without them prying into my personal life. I should start keeping track of how long they went before the meddling started.
“I would be the man friend.”
“Tell Bobby to give me his overalls, and I’ll patch them up. He looks like a bum with all the holes.” Before I could respond, she laughed at a stray thought. “Look at me, telling his boyfriend to get him out of his clothes.”
I covered my face, trying to hide my embarrassment. Gloria could be my grandmother; I didn’t need her thinking about me getting Bobby naked.
“Stop pretending you’re embarrassed,” Gladys said. “I’m sure you two run around in your skivvies every chance you get.”
“We are not having this conversation.”
Gloria gently pushed me to the side. “Gladys, love, I have the perfect idea. These costumes need drama.”
Oh, lord, I had unleashed the multicolored terror. “I don’t need you to go overboard.”
She scoffed, waving off the comment. “No, scraps won’t do. This calls for a trip to the fabric store.”
Gladys’s head popped up at the comment. “Fabric store?”
“Fabric store!”
What was going on?
“We can take my van,” Gladys said.
“I don’t want you to go out of your way.” My words fell on deaf ears.
“Do we go to Fluff and Fabric?” Gladys asked.
Gloria shook her head. “This calls for…”
“Fabric Emporium,” they said in unison.
“I’ll drive,” Gladys said. She was already reaching for her jacket. I was supposed to ask for donations, and now I had an entire guild of ladies ready to throw away their afternoon in the pursuit of fabric.
“You really don’t need to go out of your way.”
Both sets of eyes glared at me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I had insulted them. Gladys pulled a closed sign off the counter and sped past us, putting it on the door. Gloria, however, continued giving me a stern look.
“Never stand between a sewist and the fabric store.” Her laugh bordered on a cackle. “You never know where we’re hiding our fabric scissors.”
I had a flashback to my mother lecturing me about the importance of her fabric shears. “I’m not scared, Gloria.” Her eyes narrowed at my statement. “Fabric scissors… Fabric. Only.”
I couldn't believe her eyes could get any wider. She leaned in close, patting me on the cheek. “This one’s a keeper,” she yelled back to Gladys. “We’ll make sure the kiddos have the best costumes.”
“Thanks?” This had gone from zero to sixty in a matter of minutes. Gladys stood at the door, waving me over. I half-expected her to lock me inside as they gathered their army.
When I exited, she gave me a quick pat on the cheek. “You look surprised.”
“I thought I’d have to do more begging.”
Gladys’s face softened as Gloria wrapped her arms around her co-conspirator. When she smiled, I couldn’t follow—what had I done?
“When we say ‘Welcome to Firefly,’ it’s not about geography.” I raised my eyebrow, confused by the statement. “Through all the good and the bad, while you’re here, you’re family.”
“Quit your yapping. We’ve got a fabric store to pilfer.”
Gloria dragged Gladys away, and I was left thinking about the statement. We were strangers, right? I had spent a total of thirty minutes in the vintage store, and I barely got a word in with Gloria. I’d have said her statement was one of those things people say but don’t mean. Yet… with a simple request, they sacrificed their time. Is this what it meant to be part of a small town?
“This is not normal. It can’t be, right?”
Unlike the city, Firefly had a sense of community I had never experienced. The air might be cold, but the people held a warmth to them. Watching as the women climbed into Gladys’s van, I couldn’t help but smile. My heart swelled, and for a moment, I let myself imagine what it’d be like if I moved here, if I called this home. It would bring a whirlwind of complexity to my job, but overshadowing the anxiety remained the warmth.
“Bi-coastal.” I said it out loud, breathing the words into the universe.
It could be worth the complexities.
“Let’s make some magic.”
I stood at the back of the theater, listening to the tiny voices. One group of kids was talking in a circle. Innocent enough. I figured they were the kids who needed after-school activities while their parents rushed home from work. The other group, however, was performing an impromptu—no, a well-rehearsed dance. These were the true theater kids. In a small town, I shouldn’t be surprised that cliques overlapped.
I strolled down the aisle until I heard Laurel shaking her head. “This is going to be a disaster.” Next to her, the teenager who had been corralling the kids had his arm wrapped around her shoulders.
“You worry too much.” Typical teen response.
I dropped myself into a seat next to Laurel. “What’s going on?”
“Ticket sales. How was I supposed to know?”
The teen leaned forward, looking past Laurel. “She didn’t know that on top of running the play, she had to sell tickets.”
The school expected a lot from a single teacher—wrangling the actors, creating the backdrop, and now acting as promoter. No, teachers would never make the money they deserved. At least I could put her at ease.
“Let’s start with some good news,” I said. “I talked to Gladys.”
“She’s loaning you costumes?”
I chuckled, thinking of Gladys and Gloria. “Not exactly. The Sewing Guild might be making new costumes for everybody. I think they just wanted an excuse to hit up the fabric store.”
“Fabric Emporium,” the boy said.
“It’ll be pointless if we can’t fill seats.”
Laurel had fallen down the self-doubt spiral. I couldn’t believe Firefly wouldn’t show up and support their kids. This had more to do with anxiety and less to do with reality. I hardly knew the woman, but her heart shined. She wanted to see this show to be a success.
“I’ll make sure the seats are filled.” The words came out before I realized what I was saying. I wouldn’t let Laurel flounder. If I could make Bobby smile, maybe I could do it for the rest of his family. “You don’t have a thing to worry about.”
“Don’t stress, Mom.” Oh, another family member. It no longer came as a surprise. “I’ll see if the paper can run an article. We’ll sell out of every seat.”
“You’re right. You’re right.” Laurel straightened her shoulders and gave her son a hug. “Oh, where are my manners? Chris, this is my son, Will.”
We shook hands. He gave me an awkward glance. “You’re the guy dating my uncle, huh?” I should have guessed he’d know. At this point, who didn’t know?
“Yup, that’s me.”
“Odd that we didn’t know you existed until Gail interviewed you.”
When his eyes narrowed, the judgment hit like a brick. Nobody had questioned Bobby’s lie up to this point. Would it be a teenager who unraveled our fake happily ever after?
“We’ve been keeping it on the down-low. Hard to tell how things would pan out between our jobs.” I broke eye contact, focusing on Nana running across the stage on all fours. “Seven hundred miles is a lot of geography to navigate.”
“I see.” Will didn’t believe it.
Everybody in Firefly took to our relationship because it provided something new and shiny. Will resisted the narrative. I was less worried about the media finding out and more concerned about Laurel or Abraham discovering our secret. How would they react knowing we lied?
While I avoided the scalding teen eyes, I noticed a kid sitting in the front row to the side of the stage. While the others mingled and goofed off, he sat idly, head dropped. Had he fallen asleep? I had spent more time in the last few days around kids than I had in my entire career. Sure, they’d stop by a booth at Comic Con, but more often, they were being dragged by their geeky dads. Not that I minded.
“I’m going to get the troops ready.” I got up, sliding down the aisle until I stood in front of the kid. He didn’t raise his head as he twiddled his thumbs. This wasn’t a sleepy kid. I plopped down in the chair next to him.
“You’re our Mr. Smee, right?”
Slight nod.
“You did a great job on the backdrop.”
No response.
This kid didn’t have the same abundance of energy as his classmates. Something was wrong. Down the rabbit hole, we go. “Is everything okay?”
He shrugged.
“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” I slouched down in my seat and let the seconds turn into minutes.
“They’re being mean.” His voice came out in a whisper, nearly drowned out by Tinker Bell’s shrill screaming.
“Who? The kids in the play?”
Slight nod.
“Sometimes people suck.” Could I say "suck" to a middle schooler? “Most of the time, it has nothing to do with you. Hurt people hurt people.”
When he didn’t respond, I figured I had gone too far down the sociology road. How did I tell a middle schooler that mean people sucked and he should push their bad attitudes to the side and be his awesome self?
“What are they saying?”
“I’m…” He hadn’t looked up, but I realized the severity as he wiped his eyes. I checked over my shoulder to see if I could tag Laurel in for an assist. She and Will appeared to be having a pretty serious conversation between them. Okay, Chris, you’re on your own. Tread lightly.
“Hi, I’m Chris.” When I offered him my hand, he gave it a weak shake. It was the first time he lifted his head. Once I spotted the red, puffy eyes, my heart broke for the kid.
“Ollie.”
“You know, Ollie, I got picked on a lot as a kid. Kids can be so mean.”
“Really? But you’re Valiant.”
“I wasn’t back then. I was this awkward-looking kid without a lot of friends. Bullies loved trying to make me feel bad.” It had been years since I thought back to my school days. I spent my days planning my escape. I’d have done anything to get out of that school and away from those kids.
“They call me gay.”
Oh. I shouldn’t be surprised we’d have some queer kids in a school play. Though, in this case, it didn’t sound like Ollie approved.
“Being gay is awesome,” I said. At his age, I’d call myself a liar, but as an adult, I believed every word. “You know I’m gay, right?”
He turned his head, eyes wide. “Really?”
“Shh,” I held a finger to my mouth. “I’m dating Mr. Wright.”
“Bobby?” If his eyes grew any wider, they’d fall out of his head.
“Yup.” After my first role, a photograph with my boyfriend hit the tabloids. It hadn’t been newsworthy, but I quickly learned the media liked to bring up anything they considered dirt. I remember telling Tessa I could either deny it or come out in a burst of rainbow-colored glitter.
“I might be gay.”
My sexuality hadn’t come into play until my senior year. Now, Ollie, barely in his teens, questioned his sexuality. I did the only thing I could think of.
“High-five.” I held my hand in place until he gave me a soft smack. “You know you don’t need to decide now. These things have a way of figuring themselves out.”
“What if they tease me?”
“Mean people will be mean. But you can show them by being your awesome self. Freaks and geeks run the world.” I leaned in, whispering. “And if they pick on you, come find me. Remember, I’m a superhero.”
That got me a slight grin. I’d take that as a victory. “Ready to make them jealous?”
“Jealous?”
“They only wish they could be as amazing as you.” I probably shouldn’t talk trash about other kids, but he needed to hear it. At his age, I wish somebody had given me permission to be myself. Who knows how it would have changed my life? If Ollie needed a role model to help him overcome his fears, I’d gladly live my life a little louder.
“Ready?” I asked.
He didn’t exactly jump to his feet, but he had lifted his head as he stood. He held up a hand, and it took me a second to realize we were back to high-fives.
“I have booty to plunder.”
My jaw dropped as he walked to the stairs at the side of the stage. We might have a special bond in the rainbow mafia, but…
“Ohhh. You mean… you’re a pirate.”
I snickered my way back to Laurel. I couldn’t wait to tell Bobby—I bet his entire body would shake as he roared with laughter. The thought of him running his hands through his hair, staring into those beautiful eyes…
I paused.
Good news, and my first thought wasn’t to call Tessa or share it over dinner with Rose and Edward. My mind turned to Bobby. While kids flew off to Neverland, I’d be dwelling on how my brand-new relationship—a fake one at that—had moved to the forefront of my mind.
“Huh,” I mumbled to myself. Now, I’d obsess over it until I saw him.