Page 60 of Troublemaker: The Big Picture Edition

I finish hanging the center of the canvas and climb down so I can move the ladder a few feet to the right.

“I think you’re on to something,” I tell her and then climb up the ladder again. “How did it end?”

“You mean why did it end?”

“If you want to tell me, sure.”

“Well, nobody cheated. And we didn’t have a lot of fights or anything. A former professor of mine, who knew that I had originally planned to move to LA to teach, sent me an email about a job that was going to be available the next semester. Not this job—it was at a private school in Hollywood. I looked into it and the neighborhood. And I thought about it for ages. I finally brought it up to Brent—that’s his name. And long story short, he wouldn’t even consider moving to LA if I got a job here. Even though he knew how much I’d wanted to, back when we first met. But he had gotten a really good job in Paso Robles when I was still in college, and it was just expected that I would stay there with him… Anyway. I was mad. And I emailed about the job anyway, but it was too late by then. And then I wasreallymad. More at myself, really. And it just gave me this whole new perspective on things and I finally realized what a rut I’d been in with him. And I told him I was going to move to LA. He said he wouldn’t do long-distance with me and he definitely wouldn’t move, so that was it. And almost as soon as we’d decided to break up, that same prof told me aboutthisjob. And I got it, and here I am.”

“I’m really glad you’re here, Emilia.”

Whatever residual anger she had toward Brent—what a dickhead name—whatever it was that got stirred up by those memories seems to dissipate. She smiles up at me. “Me too.”

It’s quiet. Even on this small stage, even in the auditorium of an elementary school, there’s something so sexy about being alone with someone in a theater. Maybe because for me, theatre has always represented infinite possibilities within specific restraints. Transforming the silence of an empty space intosomething moving, something that resonates on a visceral level—that always gets me going. Being in this space with someone who resonates with me in a visceral way, that gets me off on a whole other level.

“What’s the deal with your ex-wife?” she finally asks.

“You sure you want me to talk about her?”

“Hey, I showed you mine; now you have to show me yours.” She shakes her head, laughing and blushing. “So to speak.”

“Well…her name’s Nova Tully. She was a dancer in New York. I had seen her in a show and I’d seen her around, and I had a crush on her when I was in college. She was a few years older than me and wouldn’t date me when I was a student. But I kept chasing her anyway. She’s electric. Y’know? I mean, I was twenty when I met her, and she was stunning. It felt like I was being struck by lightning every time she looked at me. If I met her for the first time now, at thirty-two, I doubt that I’d have the same reaction.”

Whenyoulook at me,I want to say,it’s like the sun shining through the clouds or the way you catch your breath when you look up at the night sky in LA and actually see it painted with stars.

I finish securing the backdrop and climb down the ladder, holding her gaze the whole time. When I’m on the bottom step, she moves away from me. As if holding my gaze and exchanging this information while being this close to me is somehow dangerous. I hop down and rest my forearms on one of the ladder steps and wait for her to get comfortable with this.

“She went on a couple of world tours with a dance company, so I didn’t see her for a few years. The senior-year theatre production that I directed moved to off-Broadway, and I worked my ass off to get taken seriously as a young director in New York. And I’m not saying I was doing it for her—I was ambitiouslong before I met her—but in the back of my mind I was always thinking,well, I wonder if Nova Tully would date me now?

Emilia slowly makes her way to the other side of the A-frame ladder and rests her forearms on a rung, opposite me. Our hands are inches away from each other, and I can see that hers are trembling just a little.

“By the time I came back to town, I was the youngest Tony nominee for Best Direction in history. And we had this whirlwind romance that resulted in us getting married in Vegas when I was twenty-four. The next year, Ryder was born, and…shedidwant to have him. But she was really worried that she wouldn’t have a dance career after she had a baby. And I mean, she didn’t, for a while.” I take a step away from the ladder and slowly walk around it.

Emilia walks around the other way, to where I was standing and grips one of the steps. The whites of her wide blue eyes are so bright and her pupils are huge. I assume the same stance on the other side of the ladder where she once was and continue the story.

“Meanwhile, my career really took off. So at least I could support us in New York, but it was a struggle for her. She started teaching dance classes eventually. But she really loved Ryder. He became the axis around which we revolved, but there was this growing tension between us as a couple. Anyway, at a certain point it became clear that I had to move to LA for work because there were just so many opportunities. Plus, my parents are out here. Her parents were never around to help out, but it was really hard for her to leave New York. She did, though. And things fell apart almost as soon as we’d moved into our house here. Notmyhouse—I let Nova have the other one. Ryder was four. The marriage lasted longer than anyone expected it to, mostly because I was so stubborn and didn’t want to give up on it… Not unlike you with your guy, perhaps.”

She straightens her arms out in front of her, to the center of the A-frame, and I reach for her hands.

“Well, you had Ryder to think about.”

“Yes. And ultimately, the best choice was for him to not have to be around that kind of tension.”

“And you get along with her now?”

“I do. We’re a lot better at co-parenting than we were at being married.”

She stares at our entwined hands. “And are you… How do you feel about marriage now?”

“After being divorced?” I stroke the knuckles of her hands with my thumbs. “I’m optimistic about the possibility of being married again, to someone more stable. As long as it works for Ryder too.” I let go of her hands and walk around to her. She turns to face me. “I mean, as we’ve learned fromA Christmas Carol—we must live in the past, present, and future.”

She removes her glasses, carefully places them on one of the ladder steps, and then takes a step back, sliding her hands into her front pockets, and I take a step closer to her.

“We can learn from the past, but we can’t let it prevent us from experiencing what’s right in front of us.”

She keeps walking backwards, slowly, her shining eyes locked with mine, and I keep moving with her, my hands in my back pockets.

“And we must strive to make the future better for everyone.”