Chapter 12

DAD COSTAS’S words proved to be prophetic. June, my agent, called me on January eighth.

“Terry, Ashland isn’t renewing your contract for another season. What would you like to do next? Want me to find you another regional? Want to go show by show in New York? Want me to get you a movie deal? This is really a great opportunity for you.”

Great opportunity. Right. At least she’d waited until after the holiday to call. Crap! I was unemployed. Or I would be unemployed when the season ended. Which I pondered for a moment.

“June, what about the Moliere? Are they saying I’m not playing in it? We open next weekend and it runs through the summer.”

“Since your contract expires in May and they’ve chosen not to renew it, you can tell them they need to recast before summer. I wouldn’t do that now. As soon as you announce you’re leaving, they’ll recast it and you’ll be out a good performance bonus. You can work show to show for the summer. You’re scheduled in The Winter’s Tale, too, and it doesn’t close until the end of the summer. You’ll make about the same on a show to show basis as you do on your contract and we can focus on getting you something for September.”

“Okay. Let me give this some thought and talk to my wife. You know I’ve got two babies to think of.”

“Good luck, Terry. Let me know soon so I can get to work. Remember, when you work, I get paid.” She rang off and I sat staring at the phone. I heard a thump upstairs and Shelly started crying. She was seventeen months old and still got her head too far in front of her when she started running. There were a lot of thumps and cries. Billy, at six months was doing his best to emulate his big sister and was already pulling himself up on the furniture. I went upstairs.

There was no trail of blood, so I assumed everything was okay. Shelly was plopped in the middle of the floor and Billy was crawling toward her as fast as he could.

“Daphne?”

“Oh, Terry. Come and help me please.” I ran to the kitchen and found Daph sitting on the floor with potatoes scattered all over the room. “I dropped the bag.” I laughed at her and she joined me as I got down on my hands and knees to start gathering potatoes. Each time I put a handful in the bag that Daphne held open, I stole a kiss. That progressed to copping a feel. I bowled her backwards and was lying on top of her when we heard the front door open.

“Mr. and Mrs. Reichert! I’m here.” Daphne started pushing at me and I started picking up the potatoes that I’d just knocked out of the bag.

“The children are in the living room, Jodie. Check on them for me, would you please?”

“Yeah! What did you build, Shelly? Did Billy help with that? Oh! Now is that any way to welcome me when I get here after school? Not one but two dirty diapers? Come on, sweetheart, let’s go get changed.” I heard them all head for the babies’ room.

“Do you suppose she’d notice if we went to bed for an hour?” I whispered to my wife.

“Yes, she would. And she’s curious enough as it is. I don’t want her standing in the door with both babies watching us! Now, help me get these potatoes peeled. I barely have time to get dinner ready before you have to leave for call.” I stood at the sink peeling potatoes as Daphne put a pan of water on the stove and salted it.

“That reminds me,” I said, “June just called.”

“So late? It’s already after five in New York.”

“She works in all time zones and no one takes calls before ten, no matter where they are. Honey ... I’m not being renewed at the Festival.”

“What? Are they crazy? You’ve got the lead in the Moliere and in The Winter’s Tale. Are they just kicking you out the door in the middle of a run?”

“No. June says I’ll go on a show by show paycheck until they close unless I quit them. She wanted to know what I wanted to look for next.” I reached over and squeezed my wife. She lay her head on my shoulder. “It will all be okay. She already has some ideas. We’ll just need to prepare ourselves for a move in the fall.”

“Seattle,” Daphne said firmly.

“What?”

“We both liked it there. It’s full of culture. And I know what jobs you’ve been looking at.”

“You do?”

“We share the same computer. When you’re away, I get on and do searches, too.” I was glad I didn’t routinely view porn on the computer.

“Well, it does sound like a great position,” I said. “Do you think I’d be a good teacher? I don’t even have a Master’s degree.”

“Professor. That school is far more interested in hiring people from the professions than from school. I’ve looked at their faculty list and most of them don’t have advanced degrees. All of them have experience in their field of the arts.”

“You’re pretty smart for a girl who’d consider marrying me,” I said, kissing my wife sincerely. “You really think I could do it?”

“I know you could. I’ve seen you speak to school tours in the theatre. I watched you as you directed a show. That’s all teaching. Hell, I could teach a class if anyone wanted one on the joys and sorrows of raising two infants less than a year apart.”

“I think you’re a champion at it and I learn from you every day.”

I sent off an application to the Pacific College of the Arts and Design—PCAD. They invited me for an interview. I managed to find three days in a row when I wasn’t on stage. We were dark on Mondays and I didn’t need to be back until the evening performance on Wednesday. We packed the little ones in their car seats and after my Sunday matinee we headed for Seattle.

As you can imagine, having the tykes with us meant this was not a romantic getaway. But they are well-behaved kids and get along fine together. Daphne wanted to tour some of the children’s activities in the area and dropped me at the college for my ten o’clock appointment. It’s almost five hundred miles from Ashland to Seattle and we hadn’t gotten in until midnight Sunday. I was glad Seattle had good strong coffee.

“Ah, Terry, it’s good to meet you at last,” Dr. Watts said when she came out to meet me. The president of PCAD was a smallish woman I guessed to be over fifty but under sixty-five. She was known to play the cello as well as administer the college. “Please come in and have a seat. I see you already have coffee.”

“Yes. Don’t know what I’d do without it. We got in very late last night.”

“It is a hike from Ashland. My husband and I go down nearly every summer for a week to see as many shows as we can get to. It takes us days to recover once we get back to Seattle.”

“You’ve seen plays at Ashland? I didn’t know.”

“Oh, yes. We’ve seen you on stage in several roles. I must say, one of my favorites was your performance as Pericles. Such a difficult show that is not often produced.”

“Yes. I believe they put me in any major role no one has heard of. But I’ve gained fantastic experience working at the festival for the past seven years. It’s time for a change.”

“And you believe teaching is the right move?”

“There are several factors involved, including giving my young family a strong and stable environment to grow up in. But I do enjoy both coaching and directing. In fact, both are similar in many ways. It is always a learning environment.”

We chatted in a rather relaxed manner for nearly half an hour and I had a feeling she was assessing what kind of man I was rather than just whether I could teach a class or direct a play.

“I believe Mr. Brooks is waiting for us. I’ll hand you over and he’ll give you the departmental tour and interview.” We walked to the school theatre which was most reminiscent of the Black Swan in Ashland. It’s just a big black box that could be configured in many different ways.

“Mr. Brooks, this is Terry Reichert. He’s interviewing for the position Cora is leaving. Enjoy your time together and don’t forget to feed the poor man at noon!”

“Thank you, Dr. Watts. I’m sure the rumbling of our stomachs will be a good reminder.” They laughed and I was in the company of the director of theatre. “Now, that formalities are over, Terry, I’m Jon and it’s a pleasure to welcome you to your new home in Seattle.”

Something about the way he greeted me made it sound like I’d already been chosen as the incoming professor. Perhaps it was just a presumptive close to make me feel at home. I was enjoying the tour, though.

“The Box, as we call it, is not where all our shows are performed. Most of the time it is used as a rehearsal space or for student-directed experimental shows. I think you are probably used to working in such a space in Ashland. Dr. Watts mentioned seeing you in a show at the Black Swan.”

“You have all done some investigating of me, I see.”

“Oh, yes. We even got a couple of your promo tapes. Very good. You see, we believe that the best instruction comes from people who are professionals in their field rather than from academics who have studied the field. Not that a certain degree of education isn’t required, but we are much more likely to hire a person with a BA or BFA and ten years’ experience rather than a PhD with no experience. Of course, there are subjects that benefit from an advanced degree, like Theatre History or The Study of Theatrical Literature. But where the rubber meets the road at PCAD is where we want a seasoned professional.”

We had a good chat that included tidbits of information like PCAD having a good relationship with several other theatres and having performances in different spaces like Seattle Rep, ACT, and Seattle Cascades University. Dress rehearsal was often the first time a student or director walked into a new space.

We had lunch in the school cafeteria and I was handed off to the current acting coach, Cora Johnson, who was retiring. Hers was possibly the toughest of the interviews. She felt very possessive of her students and wanted to make sure she was leaving them in good hands when she retired.

Daphne picked me up at five after a fun but exhausting day for both of us. And instead of being sensible and ordering room service in our room, we took the kids and went to Elliott’s Oyster House, a favorite restaurant we’d tried during our honeymoon. Well, you can probably guess how well that went with the kids. I couldn’t. They were angels! Who would have imagined that eighteen-month-old Shelly would love deep fried calamari with aioli? I thought we were going to share it. I ordered a dozen oysters for Daphne and me. Shelly took one look at those and went back to her calamari. Billy was happily enjoying mama’s left tit. One day, I’m gonna fight the kid for that. He was already eating baby food and practicing picking up cheerios. As soon as his first tooth came in, he was going to be off the nipple.

We had a nice time and once we got to our hotel room, we got the kids down and hit the sack. The kids zonked out so quickly and deeply from the day’s exertions that Daphne didn’t really object when I started kissing her and diddling her clit. We kept it quiet as I got on top of her and sank into her sweet sweet pussy. I kept kissing to silence her own noisy orgasm before I let loose with mine. Mmm. Life is good.

It was a few minutes before ten o’clock Tuesday morning when I was walking into PCAD for another day of questioning when I got a call from June, my agent.

“June, I’m on my way in for an interview at the Pacific College of the Arts and Design. Can I get back to you later?”

“I know where you are, Terry. You should warn me about these things. I could have been some help. I’ve gone over the contract and made notes on two points I don’t think they’ll have trouble accepting. I’ve faxed it back, and emailed you a copy.”

“What contract?”

“The one PCAD is going to offer you in your next meeting. I had to modify the date slightly so you could close A Winter’s Tale in Ashland. I also modified it so you could take other work, like commercials and even stage plays, as long as it didn’t interfere with your duties at PCAD. You should be set to go for your meeting.” I was still stuck back on ‘what contract?’