Page 24 of Act Three
“I saw a dumpster near the pro shop.” He held it out in front of him as he went to the steps. “Do you want some help to get this cleaned up?”
I couldn’t think of anything more mortifying than a famous Hollywood actor helping me pick up Brooke’s mess, so I shook my head.
“I’m okay.” I already knew it wouldn’t take me long — I was used to cleaning up after my dad. “Thanks, though.” I gave him a small smile. “For everything.”
Isaac gave me a nod as he exited the trailer, and when the door swung shut behind him, I was alone. I was surprised at how lonely his absence made me feel, but I couldn’t stand here feeling sorry for myself while there was so much to do.
I found a roll of garbage bags, tore one off, and got to work.
And the whole time, I thought about everything Isaac had said.
I imagined the head of the props department arriving home without any food for their kids. “Sorry, munchkins, I can’t afford groceries this week because the waitress they cast in the lead role couldn’t do her job.”
I imagined an empty theater while the movie played for the one teenage employee who walked between the seats, collecting trash.
And then I imagined my dad, sitting by himself on the couch, waiting for me to come home while I flew to Hollywood.
And I cried.
11
KYLA
Even though I came home later than usual, my dad was still awake. Not only that, but he’d showered and shaved, and the house was unexpectedly clean. When I walked through the front door, I felt like I’d walked into the wrong place.
I stopped in the kitchen and looked at the dining table, which wasn’t furnished with its usual assortment of coffee mugs and beer bottles, and the clean sink.
“What’s going on? Are we expecting company?” My eyes shot open as I smelled air freshener. “Do you have a date?”
Dad shook his head and looked away from me like he was embarrassed.
“I felt like tidying up. Can’t a father do that for his daughter once in a while?”
“Of course,” I said, even though this was the first time I could remember him cleaning the house this well since Mom died. He followed me to the freezer and hovered behind me while I grabbed a frozen meal and popped it in the microwave.
“Is there anything you’d like to tell me?” he prompted.
I turned to face him, shocked. How had he heard already?
“Bob called,” he explained, reading my mind. “April told him.” He grinned and his eyes glowed. It was the first time I’dseen him happy since… I pushed the thought out of my head, wanting to let him enjoy this moment. “You’re gonna be a movie star!”
“I was going to tell you over dinner,” I said as he hugged me. He pulled back, looked at me, and frowned.
“Why aren’t you happy?”
I gave him a tired smile.
“I am, I promise. It’s been a long day.”
Dad walked around the kitchen humming the melody of a song I recognized from my childhood. I’d forgotten that he used to do that, and hearing it made a half-formed memory tug at the edges of my brain.
“Let’s do something to celebrate,” he said, his eyes brighter than I’d seen them in a long time. “Let’s go out for dinner. Something greasy with all the trimmings.”
I loved seeing him excited like this, especially since there wasn’t much that made his eyes shine like that anymore. Guilt tugged at my insides — could I turn down the role now, when it made him so happy?
“How about we do that on the weekend, when I’ve got a couple of nights off?” I suggested. “I need to be on set early tomorrow. And besides,” I gestured to the microwave. “I don’t want to waste this food.”
Dad looked disappointed, but I could tell he understood. When the microwave beeped, I removed the meal and teriyaki-scented steam filled the kitchen as I peeled back the plastic film.
