17. Mike #2
The seats are being cleaned and repaired – I can see entire rows that are sealed under plastic to protect their restored condition.
The stage is a long way away from this point, halfway up the house, and it’s bare, so it’s obvious how deep the space is.
Across the front of the stage is a carved ornamental trim, one that probably sheltered the original footlights, and there are two guys sanding the wooden stage floor.
They’re the ones sending up billows of dust, and they’re masked.
The walls are open on either side, wiring exposed and partially replaced.
There are easily half a dozen electricians at work.
I approach Luke and the guy he’s talking to.
They’re both wearing hard hats, jeans and boots but couldn’t look more different.
Luke is lean and tall, all angles and energy.
He almost vibrates, just standing there.
Glen from Permits is sturdy, maybe even fluffy, a guy who holds his ground and doesn’t move very fast. It’s good luck to find him here – I can ask him to come across the street before he heads back to Havelock.
Luke glances toward me as his companion speaks, touching himself in the chest and raising his brows with the obvious question.
Looking for me? I nod. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me, but he holds up a finger.
Of course, I’ll wait. I lean back against the rail of the balcony and consider the view.
There are gaps in the carved wooden barricade, and I try to place where I’ve seen the design before. It was recently. Where?
“You need to remove the end seat on every row, on every aisle,” Glen says to Luke. He’s tough but fair. He comes out to inspect the greenhouses once a year along with the fire marshal, and is always underfoot when we have new construction. “You need better egress in case of emergency.”
Luke doesn’t seem to like this solution. “But they’ve been here for a hundred years.” His voice has always been low, but I’d forgotten how low. It sounds gravelly, serious.
“And code has changed.” Glen whips out a metal measuring tape, checking the aisle width, with and without that seat.
“Your capacity here is almost two thousand, and with existing exits–” he’s pointing them out like a stewardess indicating emergency evacuation routes before take-off “–you need more space. It’s just that simple. ”
Luke purses his lips, pivots and studies the theatre. I guess he’s counting rows, figuring out how many seats he’ll lose. I’m counting, too. I get thirty-two rows. The theatre has two aisles, making for four seats lost in each row.
“And the front row?” Luke asks with a wince. “All of it? Really?”
Glen nods, stoic as ever, and Luke frowns.
“Fire deaths are bad PR,” I contribute, earning a nod of agreement from Glen.
Luke takes off his hard hat and runs a hand over his hair before putting it back on. “It’s almost two hundred seats,” he growls.
“A hundred and forty-two,” I say.
Glen nods.
Luke swears and something about his exasperation makes me feel a bit sorry for him.
“Ka-ching,” I say, keeping my tone light. “You can’t have expected a renovation this big to be cheap.”
He casts me a smile. “No, but this place is redefining my expectations.”
“It is beautiful,” I note.
“Yes,” Luke agrees with pride. “Worth the effort.”
“If it doesn’t meet code, there won’t be a concert,” Glen reminds him. “Beautiful or not.”
“I know, I know,” Luke says. “I get to twitch a bit before agreeing, don’t I?”
He and Glen chuckle together. I’m feeling achey now and figure I did too much in the greenhouses today. Tonight, I’ll definitely sleep.
I’m not going to think about Sylvia. At all. I’m not going to remember how she was both sweet and demanding, how completely right it felt to be with her again.
I’m not going to feel used.
But I do. And I called Luke a manwhore. Maybe it just depends on who is making the invitation .
The worst thing is that if Sylvia asked me to do it again, I might – despite my principles and resolutions.
I like being with Sylvia. I can’t change it, and what I’ve learned about her expectations hasn’t changed it either.
If that isn’t stupid, I don’t know what is.
I close my eyes and see her at the easel again.
I remember her concentration and deliberation, how special it felt to watch her work, and my throat gets tight.
I recall the way she bit her lip, how her hair was swept off her neck, how she shifted her weight on one foot to her toe. Now more than my throat is tight.
I want her all over again.
I never did go down on her and that feels like more than an oversight. It’s a crime.
Meanwhile, Glen makes a note on his clipboard. He pulls out his phone and takes some pictures, documenting the ‘before.’ “I’m going to head down and check out that new door,” he says. “Good to see you, Mike.”
I straighten at the sound of my name. “I’d like to have you look at something else before you drive back to Havelock, Glen, if you have a few minutes.”
“No problem. I’ll send you a text when I’m done here.”
And just like that, I’m alone with Luke for maybe the first time ever.
“What a bite,” he says, sighs, then turns an expectant look on me. “What’s up, Mike?”
I’m amazed that he’s not bitter or resentful and I figure the only decent thing to do is meet him halfway.
“You added more doors?” I ask.
“The emergency exits were single steel doors. They need to be in pairs,” Luke tells me. “I tell you, this place is the original money pit.”
“Then why bother?”
He turns to survey it, that pride in expression again. “I like it. I always did. You’re right – it’s beautiful. And if there’s going to be a tribute concert with my band, I want it to be here.” He shrugs, as if a whim is good enough reason to do anything.
I guess people don’t change.
On the other hand, I never saw him as such a romantic.
“And then?”
“And then what?”
“And then you’ll own a renovated theatre that is sitting empty. Sounds like it will still be a money pit.”
He smiles at me. “Always thinking of the future, aren’t you?”
“Call it a habit.”
“Not a bad one, that’s for sure.” Luke looks around.
“Um. I don’t know. There could be movies again.
” He speaks without a lot of conviction and I know he hasn’t really considered this.
He hasn’t thought beyond his plan for the concert, and that concert has his undivided attention right now.
His attitude is amazing to me, since I have to weigh every variable and consider every possibility before making a choice, but Luke has always seemed to just follow his heart.
I only do surrender to impulse with Sylvia, which is the exception, but I can’t admire how well that’s working out.
“What do you think?” he asks me, looking as if he’s hoping I have an answer.
I might.
“Well, given that the theatre went under showing blockbusters, you’d have to offer something different.”
“I was thinking of bringing back The Rocky Horror Picture Show on Friday nights.”
“One night a week.”
“Maybe not every week.” He winces. “You’re right. That leaves a pretty empty calendar.”
“There’s a girl who collects old movies,” I find myself saying. “She’s a friend of Madison’s.” I have to think for a minute to remember her name. “Rhoda Gardner. Her mom owned the card store and gift shop, down by Big Red.”
“I remember it.”
“The business closed when her mom retired because she couldn’t sell it.
Rhoda inherited the building but couldn’t cover the expense, so she sold it to Dad.
A bunch of us helped move her collection across the street to the Grand Hotel.
She rents a storage room from Cole, and it’s stacked floor to ceiling with movies on celluloid. There are a lot.”
“No kidding,” Luke looks impressed. “How many is a lot?”
“Thousands, easily. Silent films. Black and white classics. Movies I’d never heard of.” I shrug at his skepticism. “It would be kind of amazing to have her show them off.”
“It would. It really would.” He sounds excited. “People might drive in for that. Where is she?”
“Working in Toronto, I think. Madison would know.”
“Thanks. I’ll look into that.” He smiles and his expression is warmer this time. “But none of this is why you’re here, is it?”
“No, it’s not. You own the building where The Carpe Diem Café is located.”
“I do.” Luke’s smile fades. He’s wary now, as he hasn’t been yet. “Got a problem with that?”
I keep my tone even, because if I fight with Luke about anything, it isn’t going to be this.
“No, just a question. Sierra wants to do some greenhouse growing. Herbs for Merrie. Maybe she’ll end up selling the extras.
But if I’m going to arrange for a greenhouse to be built on the roof, I need your permission to alter the property. ”
Luke leans against one of the seats that are destined to leave the building. He’s studying me, his arms folded across his chest. “That’s a cool idea.”
“It is. ”
“And you’re going to help her?”
I nod. “She’s enthused. Can’t be a bad thing to encourage that and it is in my wheelhouse.”
“Definitely.” He’s smiling a little again now but his eyes are bright. “I’m spread too thin to pay for it, though.”
“I can cover it.”
“Really?” He arches a brow. “You’re doing my leasehold improvements now?”
I smile that he’s teasing me a bit. Maybe we could actually get along. “The greenhouse rep is offering a deal in exchange for promotional access. He wants to photograph it for some marketing scheme.”
“All the buildings in the world with greenhouses on their roofs. I like it.”
I nod.
“And what ultimately happens to the greenhouse?” he asks. “You should know that Merrie and I have kind of a rent-to-buy thing going on.”
That doesn’t surprise me. I never imagined Luke was staying in town. “I was thinking it would be Sierra’s if she stays interested.”
“If not?”
“Then Merrie would get it with the building, I guess.”
“You wouldn’t tell Sierra about that possibility upfront?”