The closed rehearsals were working very well. Not having our acting peers peer at us while we worked allowed for maximum concentration on a scene that included a good deal of physical action. Veronica and I felt a heightened sense of solitude that helped us feel free to tangle about, emotionally and physically.
I remember during an intense pass through a part of the scene were Veronica struggles to free herself from my character's grip, my right hand accidentally, not just brushed by, but actually formed a full landing on, for a good fully seems like fully five seconds, her breast. I was freaked, and after Robert stopped us I politely apologized to Veronica. She half smiled, using her hand to shoo away my apology, the way Oprah might shoo away one's offer to pay for lunch. "Oh, that's, that's fine," she said quietly. I could tell at the very least Veronica understood that I was a sincere and nice guy, which is all a man should and can ever want a woman to understand.
At that point my summer was made. Anything that might build between us beyond her understanding of my sincere feelings would be cream on the peach.
Cream takes time to whip.
The play was about to open.
Summer was fading.
I kind of wanted me some cream.
To be continued.
Rusty DeWees tours Vermont and Northern New York with his act "The Logger." His column appears weekly. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org. Listen for The Logger, Rusty DeWees, Thursdays at 7:40 on the Big Station, 98.9 WOKO or visit his website at www.thelogger.com