The Redhead Revealed (Redhead #2)(22)
Author: Alice Clayton

I was his gut check when he needed a reminder that the show was fantastic—and he really had written an amazing show. He was my gut check when I got nervous about all the investors and critics coming to see the show (and me) in mere weeks.

Christ in a sidecar—critics!

But he handled me. And I handled him. That’s what friends do. Our friendship was symbiotic, complementary, and, I slowly realized, becoming a wee bit blurry around the edges.

I knew what had been going on when Jack was in town. It just took Leslie to drag it out of The Drawer and into my face. The fact that I pushed my own shit to the side meant sometimes I pushed other people’s fairly obvious shit off to the side too. Michael had always been a little territorial when it came to me, and even though it had been years since I brought some new guy over to sit on the quad with us after class, he was still the same way. We’d fallen into our old ways again so quickly when I came to New York—it seemed perfectly logical that he would react that way to Jack.

***

Michael’s sister, Keili, came to town about a week after Jack’s visit, and I was thrilled to see her. She was a few years older than us, but she had gone to the same college. Holly and I used to spend the night at her apartment freshman year when we needed to get out of the dorm. This usually meant Michael would spend the night too, and since it was college, this meant we all ended up snuggling on Keili’s futon in the living room. We passed the bong, ate ramen, listened to Alanis, and talked about what we wanted to be when we grew up.

I was running a little late for rehearsal and came dashing in babbling apologies. I saw a pretty brunette talking to Michael at the front of the theater, and when she turned, I saw that it was Keili. She looked the same: sparkling brown eyes, sweet loving face…and a giant belly. My eyes flew open in astonishment as I raced down the aisle.

“Keili!” I exclaimed, hugging her fiercely.

“Grace, it’s so good to see you,” she said, with an equally forceful hug.

“Jesus, you’re huge!” I said, taking in her very pregnant state.

“Ugh, I know. Four more weeks and then he’s out of me.” She grimaced.

“He? It’s a boy?” I asked, smiling at her glowing-but-frowning face.

“Oh yeah. Add that to the two we already have at home and you’ll see why I’m never allowing my husband to have s-e-x with me again.” She laughed ruefully.

“You might want to check with Shane on that one, sis. I don’t know that any man is happy when you take away the s-e-x,” I heard Michael say, and I turned to see him, arms full of toddler.

“Who is this?” I asked, walking over to see.

“This little rugrat is my niece Abigail,” he said, turning her upside down as she giggled and squealed.

“Stop it, Uncle Michael. You stop it!” she said, red faced.

He turned her right side up and placed her on the ground. She ran away, spinning slightly as she caught her balance, and then continued on her path, weaving back and forth between the rows.

“So what is she, like, six?” I asked, mentally doing the math.

“Grace, she’s three,” Michael chided, looking at me incredulously.

“Oh shit, I don’t know—anyone under about fourth grade looks the same to me. Can they read at that age?” I frowned, crinkling my nose. I truly was clueless.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit…” I heard Abigail chattering as she ran back and forth.

Michael raised his eyebrows at me. “Grace, you can’t swear around kids. Either spell it or, better yet, just think before you speak.”

Keili laughed silently, watching the exchange.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it.” I blushed furiously.

“Don’t let him fool you,” said Keili. “Who do you think taught her the word ‘asshole?’” She mouthed the last word.

Now that I was not the only one blushing, I turned back to Keili. “So you have another at home too?”

“Yes, Oliver. He’s almost five. He stayed at home with Daddy today. He’s getting over a bad cold,” she explained. Her ears perked up as we all heard a big bang from the end of a row. Seven seconds later we heard Abigail cry.

“That’s the I’m-more-scared-than-hurt cry. I’ll get her,” Michael said, walking briskly in the direction of Abigail’s newly red face as it appeared over the back of the last chair.

We watched him go to her and pick her up. He held her tight against his chest, and he told the nasty chair that bonked her in the head to leave his Abigail alone.

I smiled, watching him with her. Keili caught me and smiled her own secret smile. The two of us caught up for a few minutes, and she was very pleased to learn Michael and I had become close again. The whole family was thrilled he was working in New York. They hailed from Connecticut and were glad to have him close to home again.

“And, Grace, he was so totally floored when you turned up for that audition. It worked out perfectly. I always hated how you two ended things,” she said.

Keili had heard the entire story—from both sides. Ultimately, as Michael and I lost touch, she and I had as well. But she was always a fan of the two of us, and one of the only ones who saw our friendship for what it truly was back then: more than friendship.

“I hated how we ended things too. But that’s all in the past. I’m just glad we can work together now. It’s been so long since I’ve had a great guy friend, and it’s been nice to go through this process with him,” I said, watching as Michael now showed Abigail the lighting above the stage and how to move the followspot.

He was so great with her: calm and attentive, relaxed and happy. And she adored her Uncle Michael. I found myself watching her as well. She was really funny, curious about everything, asking question after question. Michael was patient, answering every question with the same careful detail he gave everyone else. He caught me watching them and smiled over the top of her head as he carried her across the back of the theater.

“And now you live here in New York! That’s so great. We’ll get to spend so much more time together. Once I have this baby I’ll be able to come into the city more often,” she prattled on.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I live here. I live in L.A. In fact, I just finished remodeling a house there that I bought last spring, and I can’t wait to get back to it when this is all over. It’s still a work in progress, but I love it.” I sighed, my face breaking into the smile I always got when I thought of my cozy bungalow in the canyon.