The Actor by Maya Brooks

the bedroom. Thomas
looked about to faint.
    “How do you
sleep in here? Do you sleep? I mean, Marc is an attractive man but you have to
close your eyes some time. These walls cannot be allowed to exist one more
day.”
    Have I just
made a gay best friend?
    “Would you like
a cup of coffee?”
    “I would
absolutely love one. Did Anne take the cappuccino machine? We have to get you a
new one, that thing made hot beverages to die for. I always thought the kitchen
was the best room in this house. Don’t you agree?”
    “I do agree. So,
how do you…”
    “How do I know
Marc? I’m Lawrence’s husband, honey. Where is Marc, anyway?”
    “Gym, I think.”
    “Aaah, pumping
up those ol’ biceps for you. I guess we don’t need to redecorate in there?
Strange Anne didn’t make it pink with neon flowers. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a
lovely woman when she wants to be, I just never got that power struggle between
them.”
    He was so warm
and friendly she had to giggle.
    As soon as they
sat down, he made paint samples and an iPad appear like magic.
    “I have some
ideas, let’s see if you like any of this.”
    The next day,
Thomas brought an amazing amount of painters and carpenters, ready to obey her
every whim.
    Is this
remodeling in the world of the wealthy? I should ask for something impossible,
just to see what they would say.
    Shopping in the
world of Marc went along the same lines. She was used to buying her clothes on
sale at Wal-Mart. Having people fuss over her, measuring, and running back and
forth with clothes that could pay her rent made her itchy.
    No wonder he
was so surprised when we first visited the mall. If I ever go back home I might
be able to sell these on eBay and not have to work for a year…
    The new
housekeeper came to work a couple of days later. She was old, non-threatening,
and very competent. Who knew dirty clothes and floors could clean themselves.
    Lawrence and
Thomas came over for dinner. Having a housekeeper was great. Delicious food
appeared without her having to raise a finger.
    Lawrence brought
a whole briefcase with papers for Marc to sign, but before they disappeared
off, he pulled out a little plastic card.
    “Sorry it took
me so long. I can’t put you on his bank accounts until the divorce is
finalized, but this should tide you over.”
    Wow, I didn’t
expect that.
    Marc winked at
her. “We’ll be right back.”
    She didn’t
really need anything, hadn’t even found courage to leave the house on her own,
but the little piece of plastic in her hands was as symbolic as the cell phone,
filled with promise not for what it could do, but for what it meant.
    Marc made her a
part of his life, showed he was willing to care for her and trust her.
    Thomas’s eyes
glittered.
    “The house is
coming along nicely. Wanna come look at more furniture tomorrow?”
    “Sure.”
    He leaned back
in the seat.
    “Have you
decided what to do with the back rooms?”
    “I have no clue.
Maybe, if everything works out, the kids…”
    “Honey, best
case scenario, they’ll come stay here one weekend in a year. His children don’t
need five rooms. Make a couple of guest rooms if you want to, but make a space
for yourself too.”
    I’d love to,
but that seems too presumptuous.
    “I don’t live
here.”
    Thomas burst out
laughing. What was so funny? He bent over the table to take both her hands.
    “Laura, you
might not live here in your mind, but trust me, you do in Marc’s.”
    “I…”
    “If you want to
make him happy, all you have to do is make yourself at home. Claim a room, take
two, or take the entire house. Build a library, a giant wardrobe, a movie theatre,
an office, whatever you want.”
    His words rang
true, but she was still afraid to assume anything.
    Maybe
something neutral, something he’d like whether I’m here or not.
    “A library
sounds pretty good. Bookshelves, some nice chairs…”
    “There you go,
that’s a good start. How ‘bout… It should be big, right? We can