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Millie: I’m meeting Jonathan for lunch.
Mark: Jealousy is not a good look on me.
Millie: Green’s a good color on you.
Millie: Brings out your eyes.
Mark: You’re going to be using that against me, aren’t you?
Millie: Most definitely
Millie: Dinner?
Mark: Can’t. Have plans with my mom tonight.
The fact that Mark has plans with Helen shouldn’t give me heart palpitations, but just knowing how much she will love the one-on-one time makes me smile. I don’t think Mark could do anything that wouldn’t make me smile. As much as I thought I liked him when I was younger, it has nothing on how I’m feeling about him now. Sometimes real life can be better than the movies.
I pull into the high school parking lot a little later than planned, but I figure Jonathan will forgive my tardiness when he sees what I brought for lunch. I gather up all the bags and make my way towards the auditorium. I admit, I might have gone overboard with getting some of his favorite things. With any luck, he will be so distracted with the musical that he won’t think too much about it.
It still feels strange to be visiting Jonathan on our campus even though he has worked there for two years. It’s hard not to feel at least a little reminiscent each time I step foot past the front gates. There are memories at every turn. Muscle memory takes over, and I take an old shortcut through the English building. The bags of food in my hands are getting heavy so I pick up my pace. I can comb through the memories later.
Pushing through the double doors of the auditorium, that familiar scent hits me mixed with a slight pang of loss. Sometimes I miss music and theater so much it hurts. I’m happy with my life and where I am, but sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I would have been brave enough to have kept it up in college.
“Hey, stranger!” Jonathan runs up, wrapping me in a big hug.
“Hey! I have lunch!” I hold up all the bags.
“I can see that.” He eyes the bags. “How many people are you planning on feeding?”
“I know you’ve been having lots of extra rehearsals, and I figured you haven’t been eating dinner, so I brought enough for you to have the leftovers.”
“Always looking out for me.” He takes the bags and leads the way to his table in the middle of the hall.
As I walk behind him, I am struck by the similarities and differences between the two brothers. If you didn’t know they were brothers, you’d hardly guess that they were even related. Jonathan is shorter than Mark by three or four inches. Mark is broad shouldered with a muscular athletic build, while Jonathan is slender and narrow. Jonathan is blond and blue-eyed. Mark is the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome with his dark hair and dark brown eyes.
Jonathan calls his students to attention and introduces me. “This is Amelia Jacobson. She is here to watch some of our numbers and give us some feedback. I want all of you to be respectful and know that I asked her to be here as a personal favor. She knows what she is talking about. When we were in school, she was lead in most of our productions junior and senior year. Including the one that we are doing this year. Listen to her. Ms. Jacobson is here to help.” He looks over and winks at me. “Besides, she will be much nicer about it than I ever am.”
The whole class laughs.
Even though I’ve only visited him a few times, I have seen how much these students love him. He’s strict and pushes them, but it is with nothing but love. He wants this program to be for them what it was for us. A safe place. A place where they feel comfortable to be their true selves and a place that they feel validated and valued.
“Amelia?” I eye him.
He shrugs. “It’s your name.”
“Yeah, that no one other than my grandmother calls me.” And Troy, but that’s a different situation entirely.
“Do you want me to call them back and correct them?”
I roll my eyes. “No.”
Jonathan laughs. “Because I will.”
“Yes.”
“Thanks again for coming. You know this show like the back of your hand for how many times we’ve been in it over the years. And there’s just something that isn’t working right. I need a second opinion.”
“Which show are you doing?” By the look on his face, I’m guessing I’m already supposed to know that. Did he tell me, and I forgot? I don’t remember him telling me. I don’t even remember the last time I’ve really talked with Jonathan. I’ve been so distracted with Mark. I clear my throat and look back at Jonathan who is watching me carefully.
