“Aubrey?” A familiar voice said from behind.
“Mom?” I spun around. “What are you doing backstage?”
“We wanted to come and tell you good luck in person.” She nodded at my father.
“Thank you…”
“We also want you to know that despite the fact that we still wish you’d pursued law school, we’re very proud of you for pursuing your own dreams.”
I smiled. “Thank you, again.”
“And we are also very, very honored to have you as our daughter because you’re such an inspiration to all the college students who will be heading to the polls in this year’s election—students who have similar dreams and ambitions regarding careers in the arts.”
“What?”
“Did you get all that?” She turned to the reporter behind us who was shutting off his device. “Make sure you use that last part as a sound bite for the next commercial.”
“Seriously?”
“What?” She shrugged. “I meant every word of that, but it’s also good to get it on tape, don’t you think?”
I didn’t bother with a rebuttal.
My father stepped over and hugged me, posing for an unnatural photo-op, but when the photographer walked away he smiled.
“I’m happy for you, Aubrey,” he said. “I think this is where you belong.”
“You’re just saying that because you think me being here means I won’t mess up the campaign at home.”
“No, I know you being here means you won’t mess up the campaign at home.” He laughed. “But I’m still happy for you.”
“How reassuring…”
“It’s true,” my mother chimed in. “We’re excited for you.”
“Ladies and gentlemen we are about to begin our show in exactly one hour!” Mr. Ashcroft bellowed. “If you are not a ballerina, a danseur, or a stagehand please find your way off my stage. Now!”
My parents embraced me—holding onto me for a long time. As they pulled back, they took turns kissing my cheek before they walked away.
I adjusted my headband one last time and checked my phone. Sure enough, there was an email. Andrew.
Subject: Good luck.
I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your first opening night, but I look forward to hearing about it tonight when you call me.
I’m sure you’ll be quite memorable to everyone in the audience.
—Andrew.
PS—I miss you.
Subject: Re: Good luck.
I am not calling you tonight. You should’ve been here. I’ll think about recapping it for you next week.
—Aubrey.
PS—You “missing me” would be a lot more convincing if the subject of the email you sent two hours ago wasn’t “I miss your pu**y.”