Between You And Me

3~Unprepared

“Now that everyone is here and ready to go,” director Cross began, taking his seat at the head of the table. A lock of hair fell in his eyes, his fingers immediately raking through the strands to push them back, and, from that tiny gesture, it captured the entire table's attention in an overtly rousing way. Even me as I crossed my legs, straightening my back. “Let’s start with Mallory telling Eric about having a daughter after their marriage...Eric pauses tapping his pencil.”

Eric…

Ezra…

My entire body stiffened, thinking about his name, my head spiraling with an oncoming storm of emotions. Not now, I told myself, taking a settling breath, not right now.

For a split second, Caleb’s eyes caught mine before darting back to his script. Probably signaling that I’d be starting my lines right after this part. Or maybe he noticed the cringle of... his name ricocheting off my mind. The simultaneous raffling of paper reverberated in the silent air, Owen Francis, who plays...him, cleared his throat, mimicking the tapping with his own pencil.

A dark shadow lingered behind the light brilliance of his voice. “And why didn’t you tell me this earlier…?” 

Keeping my eyes on my script, I listened to the whimpering voice of Jolene playing Mallory, imagining faceless figures in my mind acting out the characters. “I...I didn’t know how.” She sighed, American accent thick and anguished, as though he’d been the deceiver. Something familiar roared in the pit of my belly, the thought of self-pity and anger rolling through me. “Oh, Eric, I hated the thought of my past rearing its ugly head. I just wanted us to be—”

“Be a family?” he interjected.

She paused, the sound of her chair squeaking as she fidgeted as though she were about to be reprimanded. “To be happy.” She licked her glossed lips, straightening, solidifying each word. “My daughter….she’s a challenging child, practically an adult. I sent her away.”

Sliding my hand beneath the table, I felt them tremble at her words. In the back of my mind, every word seemed to make me nauseated and woozy, like they were venom seeping into my veins. I knew the feeling all too well. 

Anxiety. 

This entire table made me anxious, this story terrified me, a piece of me always attached to the trauma I couldn’t even remember. Yet, it stayed bellowed inside the very fibers of my DNA, which couldn’t be washed away. I left her, I thought to myself, feeling the trembles coursing down to my foot. After my coma, after I recalled snippets of Lilah, of myself, I decided to do as much research on our lives, trying to figure out the truth. And some things, I would simply try to ignore so my anxiety wouldn’t try to consume me.

These were one of those moments I wanted to ignore: her words of a difficult child. 

“Why?” For the first time, Owen looked over at Jolene with a curious glint in his eyes. “Why bring this up now?”

Jolene continued to look at her script. “....because...her homing situation has changed and they’re no longer be able to provide for her.”

Nausea bubbled in my gut with a fire I’d never felt before. From researching about Lilah, I knew her mother was admitted to a mental institute after trying to harm her. I sympathized with my missing friend. And hearing these lines, even out of actors' mouths, felt like...I don’t know. A mockery? Betrayal? Discomforting? 

Owen sighed as his character. “How come? And who are ‘they’ that—”

“Eric, I really don’t want to get into it.” Her words were rapid and stung like bee stings with each inflection. “Just know that I love you and I hope you do the good Christian things and forgive my discretions about her. She just always had demons inside of her I could never control and I had to send her away...for my safety—”

“Your safety?!” I blurted out. My voice carried through the room as the table stared at me for a moment. What just came over me? Their eyes pierced into my flesh; Rosemarie beside me snickered while I noticed their confusion. “I’m...I’m so sorry,” I apologized, sitting back in my seat, embarrassment flooding my insides. “I just got...really into the reading.”

Director Cross kept his eyes on the script with a slight smirk.“Well, then. How about we start up from Lilah’s arrival and meeting her new stepfamily? Turn your pages. Owen, start on ‘Lilah, it’s a pleasure to meet you…’”

Everyone obliged while I tried my best to mitigate my racing heart. Finding my first line, lines I hadn’t properly rehearsed, I took a deep breath, knowing I would have to make up for my outburst.

Owen cleared his throat, reading his lines with a charming smile. “Lilah, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Pastor Eric Grant. Mallory has told me so much about you.” 

Breathing in, I read my line calmly. “All good things, I hope.”

The room went quiet, catching me off guard. Looking up, I saw Caleb arch an eyebrow, the single gesture noting his displeasure over the one simple line. “Daphne, please add more emotion instead of reading it like a bedtime story.”

“I just said one line,” I argued, feeling offended. I wasn’t in the right headspace and everyone could tell that from a mile away. Gulping down my response, I returned my eyes to the script before me. “I’ll start over…”

“...All good things, I hope,” I read off, forcing a lighter, happier tone in my voice. The room grew silent again, and I sighed, rolling my eyes. “What now?”

Caleb turned his lips upwards, staring me down with a look of ambiguity. Nonetheless, it made me feel like I was failing before I hardly even started. “Daphne, tell me, what do you think is going on in Lora’s mind the very moment she meets Eric and Aaron? These two men who she doesn’t realize, but feels deep down, they are going to change her life forever?”

Rolling my shoulders back, I gave him a questioning look. “Happiness?”

Beside me, Rosemarie chuckled and raised her hand like an elementary school, condescendingly knowing the answer. I could already feel the tension of a fight between us forming in the air. Caleb made a groaning noise before pointing his pen at Rosemarie. 

“Yes, Rose, although this wasn’t a question directed at you.” He seemed to be equally annoyed by her participation in this as I, giving an unamused expression.

She ignored the looks with a graceful smile. “Well, if Daphne had prepared herself with the real-life character she’s portraying, despite knowing her, she’d know that she and...Pastor Eric have chemistry between them. Swoon, act innocent and shy. Like a blushing schoolgirl meeting a potential crush.” The glow of pride lit her face at the answer while Caleb looked back at his script but didn’t forget to nod in agreement, which is just the thing she needed to propel her ego. “Maybe someone closer to Lora’s age would be adequate to portray her.”

“Someone like you?” I shot at her with a glare.

Without hiding her greed for my role, she said with the same graceful, innocent smile. “Yeah, exactly like me.”

Caleb held up a hand to pause, probably feeling my urge to smack her and walk out on this production. I didn’t want to do this in the first place. It was only the loose promise of closure that kept me bound. However, the thought of this entitled little brat snatching up my role invigorated me to hold on and not lash out. To not quit.

“Let’s do it one more time. Daphne?”

Sitting up, I took Rosemarie’s suggestion and spoke my lines with a blush to my face and a shy tone in my voice. “All good things, I hope.” The last inflection on hope, I let it out with a breathy strain only a racing heart could inflict.

When Owen finally said his next line, I knew I passed. “Of course. Your mother never speaks ill of you.” 

Unfortunately, the first part wouldn’t be my only mistake. Not even two minutes later, Caleb was critiquing my lines again, this time being the one to tell me what I did wrong instead of Rosemarie. Despite it still amusing her to watch me fail. Why me? What did I ever do to them? 

Critique after critique:

“Lora shouldn’t sound so happy during this part.”

“Now why does she sound so sad?”

“Are we even reading the same script, Daphne?”

By the time we made it to the end piece of the script with L.J Serrano, who played the step-brother, Aaron…

Asher…

...I’d begun to have enough, balling my fist beneath the table. Already a pariah for speculation before even stepping in the room, I glared at the sheet of words as though they’d combust into flame. What was I even doing here? Trying to force down my resentment of the script, the cast, Caleb, myself, I spoke my lines to the best of my ability. “No, he may not.”

The entire room could feel Caleb rolling his grim, green eyes at the line. “The one time…” he grunted, pressing his lips together. Shaking his head, he looked around at the table. “Let’s take a five-minute break. Go get some water. Daphne, how about you head home early and practice your lines? Try coming back tomorrow with more vigor.”

“What?!” I fumed, standing from my seat. Everyone around us sat quiet, not expecting him to excuse me for the day or for me to burst out on him. “Go home?”

Taking a breath, Caleb stood from his chair at the end of the table, leaning over to give me a tired, displeased expression. “Yeah, go home. It’s clear you’ve hardly practiced your lines and everything that comes out of your mouth seems so stale and not...her. You were her friend and yet you—”

“I can’t remember her!” I retorted, crumbling the thick pages in my hand, wishing it were his neck. “Sorry if that’s too difficult for you to understand! I can’t and, honestly, I don’t want to! Even that bastard pastor's name still makes me sick and I can hardly remember why!” Snatching up my script and my purse, I stepped out from my chair. “I didn’t know I was doing this in the first place, but if I did, you better believe I would have said no to this...CRAP!” His nose crinkled as I severed a nerve in him. Knowing I was hurting him as a writer and director, I continued. “You should feel ashamed! All of you! It feels like I’m invading her life. We all are and I have no clue how this is going to give me closure but I’m starting to doubt it will. Goodbye!”