Chapter 2 Second Act Romance #4
Bex turned to see C. J.—shirtless (damn him)—smiling at her as he unbuckled his pants, which was the sexiest thing she’d seen since season one of Hart Hospital.
C. J. nodded to Esther, who was impatiently waiting for Bex to get on with it. “Esther made the call that it wasn’t worth the time to slot me in, though.”
“Speaking of ‘time,’” Esther said.
Bex was blushing like a schoolgirl when she finally came center stage to do a safety call with Parker on the seven lifts within the dream ballet.
Backstage, Richard and C. J. were talking through the moments with prop guns and prop knives and then running the fight choreography between Curly and Jud.
While Bex was held high above Parker’s head in the final lift, a retching sound came from offstage. Parker set her down safely as Esther helped Richard reach a trash can. Parker winced, holding his own stomach—the sounds triggering his gag reflex.
“This after being seen to at the hospital?” Bex whispered to Parker.
Parker hummed and then said, “Actually, I need to . . . I need to use the restroom.”
He moved swiftly offstage, his posture making it difficult to guess which way he needed the toilet.
“Okay,” Esther said pathetically, looking over her notes. “Okay.”
Richard was done with the trash can. The sound guy got him into a chair offstage and handed him his coconut water.
“I’m good,” Bex said as helpfully as she could. “I don’t need to run the lifts again.”
Esther checked her watch, and C. J. started toward center stage, buttoning his shirt.
“Let’s do lightning round blocking,” Esther said, moving to the edge of the stage. “And then we can run maybe two songs with the pianist. Your call, Colby.”
He nodded and exited stage right for Curly’s first entrance for “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’.” As C. J. walked on at double speed, moving from point A to point B while mumbling the lyrics under his breath, Bex watched from just offstage through the set piece of Laurey’s front door.
If the situation weren’t so dire, the moment would have been hilarious. Dr. Wes pacing around a stage, talking to himself, while Esther read the lines of Aunt Eller, skipping sentences to just get to the last three words to cue C. J.’s next line.
Bex had been at enough of these rehearsals to know that not only was time of the essence but concentration as well.
Within two minutes, they were already at her entrance—skipping through a scene that usually lasted ten minutes.
Bex pushed open the front door, miming holding the laundry basket that she would normally hold.
They zipped through the scene, dancing around each other like manic figure skaters.
Bex was . . . astonished by him. Television, with its shorter scenes and out-of-order performances, was a completely different beast than theatre, but C.
J. was locked in. Even at two times the speed of the dialogue, he still had every line memorized.
She wondered for the first time if he’d flown in from LA for this.
He would have had the plane ride to review the script and score.
They got to “Surrey with the Fringe on Top” in no time, without pausing once. Much of it was done seated, so they skipped it, straight to “People Will Say We’re in Love.”
As Bex hummed through her verse at a fast clip, C. J.’s lips tugged in a smile that had nothing to do with Curly.
She wondered if he also remembered how this was the first thing they’d rehearsed eight years ago. How she’d been able to relax for the first time that morning as C. J. smiled at her during their vocal rehearsal. Like she maybe deserved the opportunity.
With a quick run-through of Richard’s scenes with C. J. and a handful more lines with Bex, they were done with act 1. It had been twelve minutes.
“Good for act two?” Esther asked, checking her watch.
Bex and C. J. nodded. Richard popped in a ginger chew to settle his stomach and gave a thumbs-up.
Bex watched C. J. go through a few things with Esther and Richard, counting down the seconds until Curly and Laurey’s first kiss. Followed by their second, third, fourth, and fifth.
Curly and Laurey were the flirtiest, horniest onstage couple Bex had ever had the pleasure of being one-half of.
Bex’s heart fluttered as they walked through it so fast, humming through lyrics to the reprise of “People Will Say We’re in Love” and not bothering with actually kissing. But it did remind her that there would be kissing. Again.
Kissing Dr. Wes.
Bex reached back in her memories, wondering if she’d heard anything about Colby J. Turner’s dating life lately. A few girlfriends in Hollywood, a brief romance with a costar on Hart Hospital that was more gossip than substance, but nothing else.
She refocused on the act 2 blocking—a wedding, an accidental (depending on interpretation) death of Richard’s character, and a quick speed-through of the blocking of the final number, the titular “Oklahoma!”
Esther took a breath for the first time in probably twelve hours. “Okay! Good! Good?” she asked them.
Bex gestured to C. J.
“I’m great.” He turned to her. “Is there anything you want to go over?”
She shook her head. “I don’t need to sing through anything if you don’t.”
“Okay, Colby to offstage right. I have the in-ear monitor for you to test for your a cappella start to ‘Beautiful Mornin’.’ Bex, head to thirty-minute call.”
Bex glanced up at him, finding C. J. already looking at her. “Great,” she said. “It’ll be great.”
He took a deep breath and smiled.
She empathized with him. She remembered how this felt, how impossible the weight of it could be when you were in it.
Eight years ago at Music Circus, when they’d called for the actors to be at their starting places, she’d been waiting behind the curtain with her heart pounding wildly.
Curly didn’t even enter from the same door as Laurey in that production, so she was shocked to hear, “Hey, Beth,” from C. J.’s smooth voice.
She’d glanced up to see him jogging to her as they called places again. He’d set his large hands on her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes.
“Not a single person out there wants you to fail,” he’d said to her.
Everything had fallen away but the buzz of the crowd behind the door and the blue of his eyes. Her heart had calmed, and her skin had warmed.
She’d nodded, smiling up at him. “Thank you.”
He’d winked at her and run back to his door for his entrance. It was less than ten seconds later that she’d heard him start “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’.”
He’d gone completely out of his way to give that to her. To remind her what live theatre was all about—the conversation between the audience and the stage. No one sat down at a show they paid for and hoped the performances were bad. They came to the theater to be moved.
Bex climbed up the four flights to her dressing room, thinking back on how far she’d come since then.
The stage manager of that Sacramento show had recommended her for another Music Circus show a year later in a supporting role, and after college, she’d started booking leads in regional productions.
She’d made her Broadway debut as a swing, then understudied the star, then started booking lead roles in national tours.
She wasn’t sure if her trajectory would have been the same without that summer in Sacramento. Without the Jilly Bug.
Without C. J.
As Bex passed dressing rooms, she checked inside, taking down any references to shrimp tacos. A few members of the ensemble were there early, most of them buzzing with anxious energy, a few of them sweating, clutching Gatorades.
The second she sat at her makeup table, one of the female swings poked her head in the doorway.
“Is it true it’s Dr. Wes?”
Bex grinned at her. “Yep. It’s true.”
“Oh my god,” she said. “Is he getting killed off in season eight? Why is he here?”
Bex paused. She didn’t know yet, actually. Why was C. J. available to fly to Denver today? And on Valentine’s Day?
But the swing didn’t wait for an answer, calling down the staircase to her friend: “Debbie! It’s him!” She disappeared from the doorway.
Bex knew Valentine’s Day wasn’t as important of a holiday as, say, Christmas, but still. He was here and not with a significant other . . .
She started pinning up her hair to go under Laurey’s wig just as Whitney, a short and curvy woman who played the supporting lead, joined her in their shared dressing room.
“This is absolutely insane,” Whitney said, dropping her bag on the counter. “I’ve never been so happy to not be invited to dinner.”
“You know you were invited,” Bex argued with a smile.
“Oh, yeah, and let Miranda glare at me from across the table while she practically climbs into my ex’s lap?
No, thank you.” She sighed and ripped her costume tights off the hanger.
“They shouldn’t even be allowed out for Galentine’s!
Couples have Valentine’s Day. Let the losers have the thirteenth. ”
Bex laughed. “Yeah, but now look how Miranda and Victor are spending their first Valentine’s Day?” She wiggled her eyebrows at Whitney.
Whitney sent her an evil grin. “Coming out both ends, I hear.”
Bex started her makeup. “Did you hear who’s playing Curly?”
Pausing in the middle of pinning her braids up, Whitney turned to her. “Oh, god. Charlie was there?”
“And Geoff and Parker and Assad and Victor—”
“Holy shit. Is Miles back early? Is he doing it with a walking boot?”
“Nope.” She bit back her smile, but before she could tell Whitney, there was an announcement on the PA system.
“All cast and crew to the stage, please. All cast and crew to the stage.”
Everyone made their way downstairs in varying stages of costume, makeup, and hair.
“Quickly, everyone,” Esther yelled. “I’ll make this brief so you can get back to it.”