New York, New York #15
He kissed her, and it was flight, AJ thought, to be so swept up in another person that your entire consciousness became dips and swoops and gulps of air. In her ear, he told her what she was to him, and she told him back, and he shuddered, then arced, stealing the breath from her lungs.
He didn’t rush to get up and neither did she. They lay together for an indeterminate amount of time studying each other’s faces as though looking in a mirror.
Noah brushed an eyelash off her cheekbone.
“Hair dryer?”
“Hair dryer.”
Noah began each morning by warming them up.
“Hello.”
“Hello.”
“Hello.”
“Hello.”
From there, they’d tackle the book of the play. Noah never reminded AJ more of Eudora than when he was directing. There was a brightness in his eyes, a purpose in his movements that imitated the fire of her old mentor. He made it so safe to try things. He loved to ask, “What if?”
“What if you tried to make it funny?” he’d say. “It might actually be sadder that way.”
“What if you say it from here? Make them lean forward in their chairs to hear you.”
“What if you get really big here? Yes, as big as you can.”
It was the difference between talking to someone face-to-face and talking to them side by side. Noah directed AJ side by side, and in return, she gave him everything she had.
The afternoons were devoted to improvisation.
It was very like running again after a long hiatus. As they began to play together, AJ could feel ancient pathways in her brain starting to reinvigorate, but it wasn’t instant. Their early attempts at reentering the Black Room felt stilted and slow as the humid August air.
But each day, they’d play a little harder, sink a little deeper. The more they gave, the further they delved, until at last they submerged into that infinite sea of intuitiveness and trust.
“Hello.”
“Hello?”
“Hello?”
“Helloi?”
While their roles in Fire he was in a hoodie and a baseball cap.
From his posture, AJ could tell he had been waiting for some time.
Beneath his disguise, his eyes went round with relief at the sight of her.
“You forgot something,” he said, holding up one of her snake plants.
AJ grinned. She ran to him and threw her arms around his middle so forcefully she almost bowled him over. Behind her, she could feel Bud pawing at her legs.
They went upstairs, ordered food, and snuggled into the Ektorp.
Noah’s nose was buried in her hair, his hand covering her abdomen.
As his heart raced against her shoulder, a calm stole over AJ.
Surely this meant he was starting to see reason; he couldn’t even last the day without her.
They stayed like that until his heart had slowed to its usual, steady rhythm.
AJ’s anxiety didn’t return until the next day, when she noticed the T.J. Maxx bag he had brought, containing all the items she had intentionally left at Drew House.
Shortly after returning to work, AJ met with Dani Chan to request time off in October. When Dani heard what it was for, she eyed AJ over her glasses.
“I didn’t think acting was your thing,” she said after a moment.
AJ’s cheeks colored. She thought of Eudora’s last note. Of how she had once attracted friends like Toni, out of a subconscious desire to stay small and safe. After all this time, part of AJ was still waiting for someone else to tell her who she was. Maybe it was time to decide for herself.
She gave Dani a self-effacing shrug. “It’s one of my things.”
Dani held her gaze, and for a split second, AJ thought she might push further. People did not like having their preconceived notions overturned, particularly about those closest to them.
Then she said, “Right on. Two weeks isn’t much. You don’t need any time to rehearse?”
AJ shook her head. She didn’t want to miss any more work than necessary.
“No, I guess Noah Drew just goes off the cuff,” said Dani.
The Hayes Theater was a colonial brick number wedged between two much sleeker buildings on Forty-fourth Street, and it looked like the theater time forgot. It was only a ten-minute walk from 30 Rock, so AJ was able to pop over whenever necessary.
Noah was footing the up-front costs for the production, which felt sort of like asking someone out to an expensive restaurant then making them pay.
Per usual, he didn’t mind. While AJ was at work, he also shouldered the technical aspects of their show, from the lighting and sound cues to the needs of the stage and house managers.
One day, he texted AJ to come to the theater in a white T-shirt. When she arrived, he had her stand center stage under the hot lights as he looked up at her from the house.
“You see?” he yelled to Alfie in the booth. “The blue gel is completely washing her out.”
He hopped up onstage and tugged off his black crew neck sweatshirt, one of a long lineage that had taken up residence in AJ’s closet.