Opportunity of a Lifetime
OPPORTUNITY OF A LIFETIME
Tessa: Howdy, farmer Wilde.
Chris: Somebody’s jealous.
Tessa: I’m at that cute coffee shop in Chelsea you love. Who’s jealous now?
Chris: I’m at a coffee shop next to a bakery across the street from a bistro.
Chris: Who’s jealous now?
Tessa: How? Isn’t there like six people in town?
Tessa: Gotta go. Call in a bit.
I glanced up from my phone to see a dozen retirees playing checkers while they talked over coffee. At this point, I would have thought I’d recognize someone in the crowd. At some point, I’d have to look up the actual population of Firefly. Tessa might joke, but I had questions about this small town’s commerce.
Staring into my coffee, I swore I could still smell the smoke from the campfire. As soon as I thought about the steaks, my mind turned to Bobby and our escapades in the tent. I’d claim it was a romantic getaway, but I couldn’t help but snort at the hilarity of our sex lives. How I didn’t get hurled off the air mattress defied physics. Though, next time he spent the night, I’d be ready.
Mental note: pick up condoms at the pharmacy.
I stared at the clipboard. At the top, I had scribbled, “Heaven Help Us.” After a week of rehearsals, we had reduced it from a dozen to a couple of pages. The kids had memorized their lines… mostly. They remembered their cues… mostly. It had gone from a madhouse to an adorably cute production of a timeless classic. How did I know we were heading in the right direction? Laurel no longer twirled her hair like a fiend.
It wasn’t long before my phone vibrated. I responded without checking the screen. “Chris speaking.”
“I’ve got news.”
“Why hello, Tessa. My day is going great. Thanks for asking.”
“Hush. I don’t care how your day is going.” In all our years together, she had been direct but never rude. Something had gotten her worked up. “Cause what I’m about to say is going to make it a thousand times better.”
I leaned back in my chair, taking a sip of my coffee. I wanted her to percolate while I dragged out the suspense. Meanwhile, one of the ladies playing checkers cheered for her victory.
“You’re just going to leave me hanging, aren’t you?”
Yup! “I have to make sure you earn?—”
“ Centurions 2 has been green-lit.”
I bolted upright, my coffee spilling over the lip of the cup. I hissed as it seeped into my jeans. The entire room turned in my direction, and I gave an awkward smile and wave. Yup, they all thought I was a weirdo.
“I know, right?”
I grabbed napkins from the dispenser on the table, patting my lap dry. “That’s amazing.” Financially, this role could mean I’d never work another day in my life. I couldn’t deny returning as Valiant would be the opportunity of a lifetime. I'd be on the front page of every newspaper and magazine. It'd be... the same thing all over again. It was another role that'd be forgotten in a year. After the last month, I realized I wanted something more.
“I don’t want to give you numbers until the ink dries, but we could be looking at triple.”
“Triple?” I lived a privileged life. There was no denying it. I tried to keep myself grounded, but if they were offering triple, we had entered eccentric yacht money.
“Who’s the best?” She loved a good rhetorical question. “I am. I know. You’ll need to head back to the city and pack up. The sooner you get here, the sooner?—”
I spoke before thinking. “I can’t.”
The line went quiet for a moment. I’m sure Tessa gave me the finger or had to pick her jaw up off the ground. “What do you mean, you can’t?”
“The play. We’re two weeks from opening night.”
“You’re staying for a play? A middle school play?”
Tessa had always been a loyal friend. She’d go to hell and back for me, and more than once, she had. I found it ironic that the same devotion made her blind to my commitment to these kids. There was no way I’d go back on my promise, not even for triple.
“I want to be clear.” She cleared her throat. “You want me to tell the studio that you’re currently engaged in a project and need time?”
“I have the best agent in the business. You can send me the forms. I can look them over. I don’t need to be there just so they can have a photo op at the signing. If they want me enough to pay triple, then they’ll have to deal.”
“Wilde.” We had moved to last names. That was worse than full names. “If you’re not coming here, I will drag my ass to the middle of nowhere, Maine, and drag you out kicking and screaming.”
“Ker Sha Ker, I’m losing my signal.”
“Wilde.”
“Reception in the barn is bad. Oh, look, a horse is having a baby.”
“I hate you right now.” She hung up.
Did I just jeopardize a multi-million-dollar contract to put on a middle school production of Peter Pan ? Did I put my future on the line because I barely had time to think about life with Bobby? Questions about my future surfaced the longer I spent here. Did I want to squeeze into another suit and cape? It’d be easy to fall into the role, but was it what I wanted?
“And here I thought you might be one of those Hollywood douchebags.”
I glanced up to see a young woman holding a small plate. Apron. Coffee stains. Exhausted. This had to be Rita, the proprietor of Wired. She didn’t ask for permission as she pulled out a chair and sat down. At this stage, I didn’t expect her to. If I were out in public, I might as well have a neon sign saying, “Join me.”
“Thanks?”
“Ignore me. I eavesdrop on everybody.” I appreciated the honesty. “You’re staying for the play?”
I nodded. I had made a promise to Laurel and, more importantly, the kids. They needed to say their lines, or at least try. Heck, even Tinker Bell had stopped gnawing on her cast mates. I’d disappoint myself if I called it quits now.
“I need to see this through.”
“See.” She gestured at me. “Not a douchebag. Glad to see I’m wrong for once. How are the munchkins doing?”
“The play is coming together,” I said. “Mostly.”
“I remember middle school. It was the first after-school activity I did when my family moved here.”
I raised an eyebrow. Someone in the community who couldn’t trace their lineage to the founder? It made sense, but I thought Simon might be the only outsider to penetrate their secret society.
“You’re not a local?”
When Rita shrugged, a strand of hair fell from her messy bun, covering her face. She gave it a quick blow, pushing it aside. Since our date at the cabin, I wanted to talk to Simon and ask about his transition from the city to a small town. But like Edward said, the town somehow had a way of providing trail magic.
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Mr. Wilde, I’m a married woman.” She batted her eyelashes, flashing a grin. I had a feeling that Rita would eat me alive. “Oh, you’re not asking to whisk me and three kids off to a life of luxury?”
“What would Mr. Rita say?”
She chuckled. “He’d be thankful for the first full night of sleep in eight years.”
Rita tore off a piece of a cinnamon bun before pushing the plate in my direction. After sampling the whoopie pies, I wouldn’t turn down any baked goods in Firefly. I picked it up, eyeing the white sugary goodness.
“The play is going great. The kids are doing… they’re doing better. But I still have to worry about selling tickets. I haven’t even?—”
Rita laughed. “Tickets. That’s the biggest scam in the town.”
“Does nobody buy them?”
Rita spun in her seat, turning to the checker players. “Have any of you bought tickets for Peter Pan ?” They all grumbled. “Show of hands. How many of you are going?” My jaw tightened, and I tensed at the question. When every hand shot up, I let out a long sigh.
Rita returned to the table, resting on her elbows. “Every year, they panic they won’t sell out. Then there’s standing room, and people get there early for good seats. You were at the spaghetti dinner—we turn out, and we turn up for our own.”
Our own.
Tessa would send a dozen text messages before the end of the day, each one nudging me to come home. It might be important to the studio that I sign the contract immediately. In our meeting, I’d be shocked if they gave their names. Here, I had a list of people depending on me. Somewhere in my gut, I knew I had made the right decision.
“Thanks, Rita.”
Her head tilted to the side with an eyebrow pushed far up her forehead. “I have no idea what I did, but you’re welcome.”
Firefly had bought me a few days to figure out the rest of my life. I had the chance of a lifetime on the table, and while I should be elated, I had an uneasy feeling. It was time to get serious and figure out what I wanted.
Rose insisted I had to get a bottle of wine. She and Edward had been nothing short of amazing hosts. I had been hesitant at first, not having shared a place since I left my parents' house. But as I listened to the gentle banter between the two of them, I imagined if, in decades, this could be me and Bobby.
When I pulled up to the house, I spotted Bobby’s truck. Did Rose have him fixing the burner on her stove that never lit? Or maybe she needed the door hung on the barn. None of the work she requested had been necessary, but I think they liked having him around. Almost as much as I did.
I got out of the car, inspecting the bottle of wine. Firefly had a thousand hidden treasures, but its wine selection was not one of them. If I didn’t want to drink from a box, I had three choices. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone in town made their own wine and sold it. I’d have to inquire about “the good stuff” at the next Farmers' Market.
When I reached the door, it opened before I could reach for the handle. Rose was half-hidden, giggling like a schoolgirl. When I walked in, she sped toward the dining room. I slowed as I spotted Bobby looking dreadfully uncomfortable in a black and gray flannel he had buttoned to the top.
Across from him, Edward wore a similar shirt—a first since I had arrived. Even Rose had put on a dress. Nothing fancy, just enough to say everybody had churched up. In a white t-shirt and blue jeans, I looked out of place.
“Grab yourself a chair. Open the wine and pour everybody a glass.” As I walked through the kitchen, Rose leaned in my direction. “Make mine a double.”
Rose always had a double pour to start. I couldn’t help but stop and smell the carrots in the pan. Since coming to Firefly, I had gained ten pounds, and every one of them was thanks to Rose’s delicious cooking. She’d walk into the kitchen, and the moment she put on her apron, she went on a mission. A very delicious mission.
“Pot roast,” she said. “And no, you can’t sample. Go sit next to your man friend.”
Man friend. It should sound more mature, but the way she said it, choking back a giggle, I felt like my man friend had come over to meet the folks for the first time.
“Bonjour, mon chouchou.” I didn’t know who I should give dirty looks to, so I spread them around. Everybody got a glare from me. “I won’t give away your secret, little cabbage.”
“You’re texting Gladys the moment I can’t see your hands.”
Edward nodded. “Guilty. And I’m not sorry.”
“You didn’t know they invited me?” Oh good, they ambushed us both. They might be an adorable couple, but make no mistake, they were equally diabolical.
“That’s on me,” Rose called from the kitchen.
“How’d your day go?”
Bobby’s question was meant as innocent small talk. After the conversation with Tessa, I didn’t know how to answer. The ink on our formal relationship arrangement hadn’t dried. While we had a quick conversation about what it might mean in the long run, I didn’t want to put the biggest problem about us front and center.
“I was at Rita’s telling her about the ticket situation for the play. Is it true everybody just shows up?”
Bobby and Edward chuckled. Obviously, I had walked into small-town shenanigans.
Edward helped Rose as she placed dishes on the table, taking a whiff of the pot roast. His eyes continued to widen as more dishes came in—pot roast, baked potatoes, carrots, fresh bread, roasted potatoes. Yes, multiple dishes with taters, not that I was complaining.
“Nobody ever buys tickets. Used to drive the drama teacher insane. It’s the same for the swing concert coming up. Unless there’s late-breaking news on TV, the whole town will show up.”
“A swing concert?” On the outside, Firefly masqueraded as a sleepy town at the base of a mountain range. The longer I spent here, the more I discovered the interesting ways they brought culture to the tiny community. “We might have to check that out… chouchou.”
“Nope! Sounds wrong when you say it.” Despite protesting, Bobby gave my leg a squeeze under the table. “You find your own cute nickname.”
“Enough yapping,” Rose said. “Talk anymore, and you’ll waste away.” I adored her. At this rate, I’d have to switch to sweatpants and elastic waistbands.
“Bobby, are you still clearing?”
“Yup.”
“Tough work.”
“Always sore by bedtime.”
“Need a hand?”
The two of them went back and forth, barely speaking. Rose dropped a baked potato on my plate and then gave me a healthy dose of carrots.
“If it ain’t a bother.”
“I’ll call the guys.”
“Jimmy still have his backhoe?”
Edward nodded. “I’ll make sure he brings it.”
Rose clinked her wine glass against mine. “You get used to it. Now, when Edward speaks with his menfolk, my brain automatically fills in the gaps.”
“I’m waiting for them to grunt at one another.” Edward’s hand shot up in a silent aha! “Did I say something?” He jumped from his seat and ran into the kitchen.
“What’s going on?”
Bobby stood up. Rose gave a long sigh, rolling her eyes as she followed suit. Dinner had barely started, and now they were preparing to leave. This had turned weird, even for Firefly.
“I almost forgot.” Edward came back, hiding something behind his back. “It’s time.”
“For?” I grew worried. Edward bordered on giddy, and Bobby wasn’t far behind. Rose, on the other hand, with only a few sips of wine left, would be all smiles in twenty minutes.
“Christopher Wilde, it is time for your initiation,” Edward said. “It’s time we officially welcome you, not as a visitor, but as a member of Firefly.”
“I don’t think?—”
“Gladys and Gloria reminded us we had yet to perform the ritual.” Bobby’s face remained slack, void of any emotion. “Just as we performed it with Simon, it’s your time to become one of us.”
If the people of Firefly arrived wearing cloaks, I’d be out the back door in a heartbeat. “You’re making me nervous.”
“Just do it already,” Rose said before draining her glass. When she set it on the table, she picked up Edward’s wine. “This is so much foolishness.”
Edward walked around the table, and from behind his back, he revealed a plastic soda bottle with a bright orange label. He passed it to me, and I tried to figure out the secret behind the beverage. “Moxie?”
“It’s a Maine thing,” Bobby said. “With a single gulp, you’ll become an honorary Mainer.”
I knew a trap when I saw one, but I wasn’t going to upset this tradition. I took the bottle and unscrewed the cap. With a sniff, I could smell a mix of cola and maple.
“You just need to?—”
I knocked back the bottle, taking a big gulp. It tasted like every other soda. “I don’t get—ugh. What vile hell is this?” It started like soda but ended with a cough syrup chaser. While my face contorted, Bobby threw an arm around my shoulder. Edward quickly grabbed his phone and snapped a photo.
“That’s an abomination. You drink that stuff?”
Both Bobby and Edward laughed. Bobby gave me a swift smack on the ass. “Not on your life. It’s Maine’s wretched secret.”
“Big babies.” With a wine glass in one hand, Rose snatched the bottle away from me. She tossed it back, and all three of us watched in horror as she finished it off. She came up for air and then continued with a sip of wine. “Nectar of the gods.”
I snatched a carrot, chomping away in hopes I’d forget to put that nasty liquid in my mouth.
“Maybe if you drank more, you’d have some hair on your chest.” Rose sat down without missing a beat, grabbing the butter and dropping a dollop on her potatoes. “Are we done initiating him? Or do we have to feed him some red snappers?”
“Fish?”
All three laughed. I didn’t dare ask. I was sure there’d be another initiation, and they’d all stare. It’d be another adventure.
“Sit,” she demanded. Everybody scrambled. “Eat.” We grabbed our forks, and the men in Rose’s life shoveled their mouths full. “Now that’s a beautiful sound.”
Rose knew how to control a room.
“Chris, has Bobby asked you to the concert?” She swirled an empty glass. “Bobby, be a gentleman and ask your man friend.” God, I loved Rose. “My glass is empty. Edward, be a sweetheart…”
Bobby bumped into my shoulder. “Want to be my date for a high school dance?” It was possibly the cutest and dorkiest date request.
If he only knew what awaited him. “I’ve been known to get on the dance floor.” If he thought my skills ended with strip teases, he had another thing coming.
For the first time in my adult life, I felt connected. Listening to Rose chide Edward for not taking enough pot roast... I could get used to this. If I stayed and made Firefly my home, it'd mean a lot of changes. Tessa already wanted me to move to Hollywood to rub elbows with folks in the industry. I might be growing more comfortable with the idea of Firefly, but it created friction with the rest of my life.
“Double date!” Rose said, a little too loud and perhaps a little slurred. “Edward, we’re going on a double date.”
Tessa wanted me to leave this? I’d use every tactic in the book if it gave me another day with Bobby and the strange folk of Firefly.