Chapter 8

I decided to take my girl out to dinner. After we ordered and ate, I took her by the hand.

"Michael, what is it?" she asked apparently seeing a serious look in my eyes.

"There is something I haven't told you. My Dad suggested I not tell you, but I find it necessary," I said clearing my throat.

"Michael, you're worrying me ... just tell me?"

"I ... don't need to work," I started out by saying.

"I think you told me this before," she said.

"What I mean to say is, I have no financial reason to work. My grandfather helped design the spray-can. I earn $230 thousand dollars a year because of it. When I turn thirty, I get an additional $4 million dollars from a trust. My Dad, in his infinite wisdom, thinks I should ask you for a pre-nuptial agreement."

She squeezed my hand rather hard, and said, "Do you want a pre-nuptial agreement, Michael?"

"All I want is you!" I said giving her a kiss.

"Your love for me is ... incredible. Think back to two months ago. We didn't even know each other then. Now we live together. We're in an incredible play. I want whatever you want; nothing else matters to me, but you!" she said getting emotional and practically in tears.

I took her by the hand and kissed it.

"Amy ... the moment we met at auditions, I felt something, a really deep something. I want to grow old with you. I don't want to impose on you a pre-nuptial agreement. I want to love you—every day and every night for the rest of our lives."

Her eyes were filling. I could tell she was about to let loose. We were done with dinner, so I dropped money on the table and walked her out to my car.

"Michael, I can't believe the guy I've been waiting for, grew up in my own hometown. I feel so close to you right now. Kiss me?"

She leaned me against the car, and our lips met. It wasn't the first time—but it was the best time. Boy oh boy, she can kiss. That Geoff fellow was an idiot; whatever caused them to break up certainly was to my benefit. After our long kiss was over, I opened the door for her, and we went home.

The next morning, I could barely walk, due to our evening of desire. I thought about calling to say I wouldn't be there, but I felt I'd done that too many times since Amy and I've been together.

After my four hours, I knocked on the door of my direct superior. He was on the phone, but waved me in as he finished up.

He hung up and said, "Michael! What can I do for you?"

"Well sir, my situation had changed," I said.

"What situation is that?"

"I've got a new set of priorities, George."

"That sounds ominous, what exactly?"

"I've met someone; she's moved in with me, and we're getting married later in the year."

"Wow! Good for you Michael. I've wondered when you were going to find the love of your life."

"I'd like you to understand, George. That's why I'm giving you two weeks notice, as of right now!"

"I understand completely. We'll miss you, Michael. Your father told me you were a hard-working focused young man. You've proven everything he ever said about you. We're staffed up right now, if you'd like today to be your last—we can handle that."

"That would be great, are you sure it's OK?"

"Go ... surprise her!"

I walked in to see my fiancée fixing lunch, in panties and T-shirt. She couldn't see me watching her. She is so beautiful. I heard her humming something as she was cooking. I tried sneaking up on her, but she turned and said, "Wash up Michael?"

Slapping her rump as I left, I said, "Be right back!"

We had fried fish and french fries, with cold milk. How did I get along without her?

After we were done we practiced Act two for a while, then left for the theatre.

We waited in the car for Kevin, running lines when he drove up.

"You guys ready for Act two?" he said unlocking the theatre. I ran in and turned on the stage lights.

"You seem eager, Michael," he said as we went up the stairs to the stage.

"Why wouldn't I Kevin, when I get to wake up every morning with this remarkable lady next to me. I'm ready—How about you, Amy?"

"Ready!" she announced.

Kevin said, "Act two –scene two picks up right after the 'I'm not your mother' line.

Michael: Isn't that just like a dumb stupid bitch? Collecting a whole wagon full of canned goods ... AND, NO CAN OPENER!" (I take a stick and start to jab the can with it, but no luck)

Amy: That's what you want, isn't it? A dumb stupid bitch that just opens her legs every time you walk by. Too stupid to think for herself. Good for sex, but nothing else.

Michael: (I suddenly felt motivated to slap her, but didn't hit as hard as I could)