The Last Phone Booth in Manhattan

“No, I get it. It would take a hefty dry-cleaning bill to de-greenify this dirndl.” She pointed to my ensemble and continued, “By the way, they have been talking about your ‘Defying Gravity’ around here for yeeeeears. I seriously thought you were an urban legend until you actually walked through the door and I heard some of your other sets. Oh crap!” A contorted look of concern struck her face as she spoke. “Are you performing it today? Like right now? Oh man, I’ll never wriggle out of this circus in time to see it.” She started to try to maneuver the cords and dolls over and around her limbs but seemed to only get more stuck with every hasty movement.

“Whoa, whoa, don’t get your puppets in a panic or else we’re gonna need to cut you out of that thing. I’m just doing ‘The Wizard and I’ today. I think I still need a little more time before I’m ready to get back on the ‘Defying Gravity’ broom.”

“Whew!” Lyla exhaled. “Okay then, well, when you head out there can you ask someone—Charlie or Keesha or Kai or whoever—to come back here and help get me out of this costume?”

“You got it,” I said with a wink. I took a deep breath and made my way down the small corridor between the dressing room and the restaurant. On my way, I caught Kai and sent him back to rescue Lyla, and then I continued to take my place in the wings to wait for my cue.

Charlie came to check to see if I was ready and smiled widely upon seeing me.

“What?” I asked, my hands instantly flying to my face.

“Nothing. It’s just that I think that green is your color.”

I stood a bit taller at his compliment, and a swirl of confidence engulfed me like a cyclone. “Thank you, but you’ve seen me in this getup before.”

“I know, and it suited you then too. I just didn’t get the chance to tell you,” he offered.

“That’s sweet, and I’m glad you think so because if I keep doing this bit every shift, my skin may be stained like this permanently,” I joked.

He flashed me a smile and then checked his watch. “Okay, BrAvery,” he said, giving my arm a supportive squeeze, “little change of plans . . .” As if on cue, I heard the opening chords of—not “The Wizard and I”—but to my surprise and horror, “Defying Gravity.”

“Wait, no, Charlie. I . . . I . . .”

“You got this, BrAvery! I believe in you. Just go out there and stop overthinking it . . . it’s supposed to be fun.”

I silenced my instinct to flee back to the dressing room or right out the front door, and instead, straightened my pointed hat, nodded firmly, and strode out to the stage, drawing in a few deep breaths in preparation. Sweat now beading at my hairline and rolling down my temple as my hands trembled by my sides, I was grateful for the extra coat of setting spray I’d applied before coming out.

As I hit my mark, I was assaulted by a barrage of bright lights and fog I hadn’t been prepared for. Charlie was pulling out all the stops and I fought to focus, continuing my duet with an exuberant Glinda who flitted about the stage around me.

The audience was enraptured, and with each note, my confidence burbled up from a place I’d stuffed it down long ago. I planted my feet, ready to attack the final belting note of the showstopper. I sucked in a breath, fully inflating my diaphragm, and as I opened my mouth to let out the wall of sound I was ready to unleash, I spotted Gabe in the doorway of the restaurant. And at the shift in my concentration, my voice epically and impressively cracked—just like I had again, under the pressure.





Chapter Seventeen


From behind a bouquet of brightly colored peonies, Gabe walked through the door of Mimi’s just in time to hear the disastrous final note of “Defying Gravity.” I blushed fiercely at the gaffe, the rouge of my cheeks mixing with the caked-on green makeup, and I imagined myself looking more like the rusted Tin Man than the Wicked Witch of the West. I glanced over at Gabe, expecting to see him wincing or his jaw dropped to the floor, but instead, a huge smile erupted across his face.

He backed into a seat at the counter, his eyes never leaving mine. As the crowd broke into a light smattering of applause, Gabe’s loud, raucous hooting overpowered almost everyone in the room. Gabe couldn’t have possibly heard the same train wreck of a final note that everyone else did? I mean, I guess it wasn’t a moo, so that was an improvement over the last time, but still it was pretty terrible. I awkwardly curtseyed and scurried off the stage, hopping down and making my way over to where he was seated.

“Wow, that was fantastic,” he gushed.

He looked so handsome, so put together, my ridiculous getup made even more apparent by the contrast. “Gabe, I’m so surprised to see you. What are you doing here?”

“Ever since you told me you were working at Mimi’s again, I’ve been looking for an excuse to stop in. But I don’t have one other than just wanting to see you. And bring you these.” He handed me the lush bouquet, and I bent my head down to inhale the soft floral scent. “Peonies are your favorite, right?”

“I . . . I can’t believe you remembered that.” I took a second sniff, and somehow they smelled even sweeter than they had moments before.

He smiled and nodded. “I remember a lot of things. For example, I remember that our favorite French bistro is only a few blocks from here, and I made us reservations. I was hoping we could grab a late lunch together if you’re free? Please say you are?”

I thought about the charming French bistro we used to visit several times a month when we dated. The delicious Chablis that paired perfectly with their unforgettable fondue, the candlelit atmosphere, and the Parisian-style accordion player who worked Thursday through Saturday nights. It was our place, and I hadn’t been back in at least a couple of years. Even still, I could smell the garlicky seafood broth of their moules frites special, and the flakey baguettes they served with it.

“That’s really thoughtful, but I still have about two hours left in my shift. Maybe we can do it another time?” I still wasn’t sure what to make of Gabe’s unexpected presence in my life. The scars from Adam had barely started to heal, and it was hard to imagine ever opening myself up to someone again in that same way. But Gabe wasn’t just someone.

Reading my hesitation, his face fell slightly, even though it was evident he was trying to hide the hurt. “You showing up at my door like that on Christmas can’t just be coincidence. And I’m sure it’s hard for you to trust me again, probably to trust anyone. But, Avery, I know what I lost, and I’m not prepared to let that happen a second time. So, if it’s okay, I’ll wait for you, right here, until your shift is over. I need you to know how much I’ve changed.”

“You want to wait for me? Here?” I tried to suppress a smile, his resolve winning me over.

“Yeah, I’d like to see a few more of your numbers.”

Flattered, I glanced around the busy diner and relented. “Well, you’re welcome to wait, but uh . . . you’ll need to order something if you’re going to occupy a space at the counter.”

“Great! I came hungry for lunch anyway. What’s good here?”

I passed him a menu. “Well, the Ham-ilton and Cheese is fairly popular. So’s the Holdin’ Out for a Meatball Hero. We also have a Fried Chicken Breast Side Story that’s really good.”

“I’ll take the Holdin’ Out for a Meatball Hero, and since I’m playing the long game here,” he said, scanning the back page, “the Bend and Gingersnaps for dessert.”

“Great choices.” I nodded. “Anything to drink? How about a Fanta of the Opera?”

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