All the World's a Stage

Matthew couldn't tell if his son was joking by his tone, and he fought to keep his voice calm, not wanting to give away how nervous he felt.

"Tricia was just showing me a quiet spot to get away from the noise."

"Good thing. I can't have you losing your hearing like Grandma. It would be such a pain to have to shout at you all the time."

"Yeah...I'll bet. Look. Can you get a ride home with your friends? I think I've had all I can stand of the local music scene for tonight."

"Sure. I can find someone to bring me later."

"Awesome. I'll see you at home then."

The crowd of kids had moved over to the couches where the older Charlie was holding court like a rock god expecting tribute from the masses. He slipped around the edge of the lounge, making it to the stairs without being noticed, but couldn't resist the urge to take one last look at Tricia in her skimpy outfit. To his surprise, she was looking right back at him, managing a brief wave in his direction.

All the way home, Matthew admonished himself for his lapse of judgment.

"What the Hell was I doing? Letting myself get talked into hanging out with a bunch of teens? I know better than to mess around with this kind of situation! I'm a trained professional teacher for Christ's sake!"

The more he thought about it, the worse he felt, but that didn't stop images of Tricia in her dress from dancing inside his head. It had been four years since his last date. He had decided to put romance on the back burner and focus on helping Ryan get out of the house and into a good school. In reality, this was probably just his lack of female companionship catching up with him. This all sounded logical, but he couldn't recall ever reacting to another woman the way he was to Tricia. It was unnerving how mesmerized he was by her.

When he arrived back home, it was late, and he decided to go straight to bed after a quick shower. The hot water relaxed him, and he tumbled into bed, pulling the covers up and settling in.

The dream came sometime during the night, and it was the most vivid he had ever encountered.

He was on stage at the high school, reviewing the sets for his play. In his fevered imagination, they seemed to spread out to infinity, though, oddly, this didn't bother him. A sound like the beating of wings came to him, and he turned just in time to see Tricia dropping down onto the stage like some sort of impossible fairy. The sound of her heels was like the clicking noise they had made on the school tile the first time he had walked with her.

"I knew I would find you here," she said.

"I was inspecting things," he replied.

"Then, it's time for our scene?"

"Our scene?"

"Sure...our love scene..."

"Wait...Tricia...We...We can't..."

Things happened so fast. One minute he was standing on the stage, and the next he and Tricia were naked with her on top of him. It was so real. He swore he could feel the weight of her body. The warmth of her engulfing his penis as she took him inside. His body seemed to move on its own, hips pushing upward.

"This is wrong..." he begged.

"It's what we both want," she whispered, smiling down at him.

She started to move faster.

A surge came from between his legs. A sudden clenching that took his breath away.

"I'm cumming!" he cried.

"I know...I am too!" screamed Tricia, whose face was glowing like she was lit up from the inside.

Matthew sat up in bed, sweat rolling off his chest. He ran a hand through his damp hair.

"Jesus! That was some dream!" he mumbled.

There was something off, though, and it took him a long moment to realized what it was, but when he did, his face reddened in embarrassment.

"You have got to be kidding me!" he said, tossing aside the covers in disgust as he got out of bed.

Fixing the problem took very little time, but it was still very disconcerting to him that even at his age, he could still have a wet dream.

"What's next? Am I going to start having to deal with acne again?" he mused.

The following morning, Matthew was determined to put Tricia out of his head once and for all. The dream the previous night and its unexpected aftermath had made him even more leery of putting himself into a situation that could be misinterpreted by anyone, especially Tricia herself. He was determined to keep things professional at all times, and for the most part, this worked, until a week later during rehearsal for one of the plays more pivotal scenes.

The first time Joshua begins to discover his true feelings for Elsa.

They cast had spent the first hour working out the blocking under Matthew's watchful eye. Then it came time for the actors to run through the dialogue. He thought things were going reasonably well, especially with Tricia, who had the cadence of her delivery down pat. She was managing just the right amount of casual indifference in her words while using her body language to portray something else altogether. The problem with the scene was all John, who Matthew felt was over-playing it, threatening to turn this poignant moment into something akin to caricature.

"John! I think you need to dial it back. This is a moment of struggle for Joshua. He recognizes both his desire and his vulnerability. Remember, this is a man who has lost everything once already. He is going to be frightened of embracing that again, no matter how much he may want it deep down inside."

John frowned, and they reran the scene, but Matthew still felt like John was almost forcing himself on Tricia as the younger Elsa, coming on too aggressively.

"It's okay to show his frustration but don't fully direct it at Elsa. He's furious at himself."

"I'm not sure I get it," said John in exasperation.

Matthew climbed out of his seat and jumped up on the stage, coming to stand between the two actors.

"I like what you're doing with your delivery, but your body language needs to be more hesitant while still being drawn in like a moth to a candle."

He turned to Tricia, "Take it from the line, 'I see your pain, Joshua, and I grieve with you.'"

She did her line reading perfectly, with just a hint of the actual pain she was feeling in her belief that his grief for his lost family was all that was driving him.

"My pain? You think you know it's depths, but it has no bottom for me! I feel as if every day of my life is a futile attempt not to drown in a tempest of my own making."

He took a tentative step toward Tricia, endeavoring to portray in his movements that Joshua wasn't speaking just of his grief from loss but also his pain born of the guilt he felt for the emotions she stirred up in him. They began a sort of fencing match across the stage while delivering their dialogue. At times, Joshua's character seemed on the verge of breaking down and admitting that Elsa had awakened hope in him that both scared and exhilarated him in equal measure. Matthew ended up backing Tricia to the wall beneath the partially completed staircase facade that would be used in the play. She trembled, partly in fear, and partly from the desire her character fought to hide.

"What do you wish from me? I have nothing to give...nothing!"

"I think the thing you fear most is that you will find that isn't true."

They paused, Matthew, staring deep into Tricia...Elsa's green eyes. His hand shook as he raised it, placing it on her cheek. The skin was warm, and he felt his heart race in his chest.

"Good God, her skin is even softer than I thought..."

He started to lean toward her perfect, full lips, and just when they were about to meet.

"Hello, Brother! I hope I haven't arrived too early!" came Ryan's voice from off stage, queued by one of the set managers.

Matthew stepped abruptly away, overwhelmed by the moment, still staring at Tricia, whose skin was flushed with excitement. The other cast members started applauding, breaking the spell that had fallen over both of them.

"Brilliant! Mr. Goodwin! I see what you want now," said John appreciatively.

"Yes...right. I'm glad I could help," said Matthew sheepishly as he tore his eyes from Tricia's face and jumped back down off the stage. He retook his seat, letting the rehearsal continue but discovering that he was having a hard time focusing on any character but Tricia's.

When they wrapped for the day, Matthew tried to beat a hasty exit, but Tricia stopped him before he could reach the door.

"Do you have a second?"

"I need to get home. I have some papers to grade tonight."

"I understand. I just wanted to say what a privilege I think it is to have you directing us. I mean, you know these characters better than Mr. Pangle ever could. What you did up on that stage earlier? It sent chills all through me! Are you sure you don't want to be an actor yourself?"

Matthew's felt his face turning red with her praise.

"I did act in college a bit. It was never my calling, though. I guess I was more interested in putting things on paper and leaving the acting to others."

"Too bad. You should have seen yourself. The barely contained passion was palpable. I could see why Elsa would have been swept away by your grand-father. What woman wouldn't be?"

"You're too kind."

"I'm serious," she said, leaning closer to whisper, "you almost made me wet."

Matthew was too stunned by this to say anything. He could only stand and stare as Tricia pivoted on her heel and walked back the way she had come.

"Holy shit..."

HEART OF THE STORM -

"Did you intend to burn these? Because if so, you did a brilliant job!" remarked Ryan as he poked at his breakfast.

"What? Oh...Sorry. I guess this wasn't my best batch of pancakes ever."

"Is everything okay, Dad? You've seemed a bit distracted lately?"

"Oh, nothing to worry about, Son. I'm just obsessing over your classmate. You know, the one that told me I got her wet," thought Matthew as he stabbed his fork down on one of the few less crunchy bits on his plate.

"It's nothing. I think I'm just a bit worn out from teaching and trying to put on this play at the same time."

"Thankfully, we're more than half-way through then, right? Plus, we have tonight off, so you can get some much-needed rest."

The thought of it sounded good to Matthew. He had endured enough stress lately between overwork and his strange obsession with a certain teenage drama queen.

As soon as he finished his last lecture that evening, he rushed straight home. Ryan was out on a date with Jenny, so he had the house to himself for once. There were still some papers to grade, but he got through the last of them and sat down in front of the T.V. to unwind. A movie caught his eye on the cable guide channel that was coming on in a little over an hour.

"You know what would go good with a movie? Cookies!" he said to himself.

Matthew was old-fashioned in that he liked straight forward chocolate chip cookies. Since he had time, there was no reason not to bake a batch, but to his disgust, it appeared that Ryan had used up their supply of chocolate chips in the pantry.

"That little shit! I bet he puts them in his pancakes."

Matthew glanced at the clock and saw he had just enough time to run to Sutter's bakery and pick up a dozen before his movie started. The trip would be a pain, but his mouth was set for cookies, and there was no denying it. He threw a jacket on over his t-shirt and jeans, heading out the door.

Sutter's Bakery was a small, family-owned establishment near the high school that had been there seemingly forever. It was popular among adults and kids alike. It was safe to say that everyone in the surrounding neighborhoods had grown up on Sutter's Bakery treats. The line for service was long but seemed to be moving fairly fast, so Matthew had his head down staring at his phone when a familiar set of voices caught his attention. In the glass of a nearby window, he saw that John Corbin had come in with Tricia in tow.

"Jesus! What were the odds?" he mumbled, keeping his head down and hoping they didn't notice him.

The line surged steadily forward, but he noticed that John and Tricia seemed to be having some kind of argument. Their voices were pitched low, but from their body language and sharp replies to one another, he could tell it wasn't a pleasant conversation.

The whole thing was none of his business, and he knew he should just ignore it and get out of there, but something made him turn his head, trying to pick up what they were saying.

"I'm not blind, John, I know what I saw. You and Marsha O'Dwyer were practically in each other's arms."

"I don't know what you think you saw Tricia. She was just helping me work out a scene from the play."

"You said you would only work on the romantic scenes with me!"

"I never said that. I think you're not remembering the conversation at all."

"Should I have taped it for you?"

"Good Lord, Tricia, listen to yourself, Kid. You're paranoid, just like always. I don't know why I put up with this from you. As nice as I am all the time, and then you treat me like this?"

Matthew clenched one hand into a fist inside his jacket. He knew gaslighting when he heard it. His ex-wife had been a master of that type of ploy, and he had grown to hate her manipulations. The confused look on Tricia's face spoke volumes. John likely had her questioning her reality. It was a cruel way to run a relationship.

"Can I help?" asked the attendant behind the counter.

"A dozen chocolate chip cookies. Please."

The pair further behind him was still at it. Neither John nor Tricia was raising their voices into a full-blown fight, but it was apparent they were teetering on the verge.

"Stay out of it. It's none of your business," Matthew reminded himself as he paid for his cookies and turned to leave. He kept his head low, scurrying passed the others in line and avoiding contact with John and Tricia. Once he was outside on the sidewalk, he looked back into the bakery. They didn't appear to have noticed him. There was no reason to stay, and yet he hesitated while watching the couple through the window. Tricia seemed to be becoming more agitated, and suddenly she got out of line, head down, rushing toward the door. John wasn't following her.

Matthew's eyes darted toward his car, four parking spaces away. If he moved quickly, he could be in it before Tricia even noticed him. She was coming fast in his direction. It was now or never.

He didn't move.

The door opened, and Tricia looked up as she stepped out, freezing when her eyes met Matthews.

"Mr. Goodwin! Uh...Wow...I didn't know you were here. We're you inside?"

The bag of cookies he held in his hand made that rather evident, so he just nodded.

"Yeah. I wanted some cookies. I didn't see you either," he lied.

He could see she was agitated, tears in the corners of her eyes.

"Stay out of it, Matthew!" his brain screamed at him.

"Is everything okay?"

Tricia threw a look over her shoulder, back inside the store John was ignoring her, keeping his eyes to the front of the line.

"Everything's fine," she said in a very subdued tone.

"You don't sound convinced of that."

She turned back to face Matthew, a single tear ran down one cheek, and she reached up to rub it away.

"I'm not."

"You and John?"

"It's nothing. I'm probably just making it a bigger deal than it is. I can be that way. You know us, Drama kids."

"If you think it's a big deal, then it is one. Don't let someone else dictate to you how you feel," offered Matthew thinking back to his misery at the hands of Ryan's mother.

"You sound like you've had experience in that arena," observed Tricia.

Matthew cleared his throat, suddenly embarrassed to be having a conversation about something so personal with a young girl he hardly knew.

"I've been there, let's just say that."

John was almost to the front of the line.

"I want to go home," she said suddenly.

"I..could give you a ride. If you're not comfortable with John taking you."

A small smile lit her face, driving back some of the sadness that had been there.

"That would be nice of you. I can text John and let him know I left with a friend. He won't know who."

She added this last clearly for Matthew's benefit, and he recognized that fact.

He led the way to his car, letting her inside and joining her a moment later. In the tight confines of the car's interior, her strong perfume was readily apparent. The smell was reminiscent of flowers in springtime. He liked it a lot.

The car pulled away, and he and Tricia quickly left John in their wake.

"Ryan says you live in Gable Meadows."

"That's right."

"Nice place."

"It's full of entitled assholes," she said with a toss of her head.

"Money doesn't necessarily cause someone to act entitled. It's all about the character of the person."

"Then, the people that live in Gable Meadows don't have much in the way of character."

Matthew chuckled at Tricia's innate cynicism.

"Does that include your family?"

"It might. If I ever say them."

"Ryan mentioned your parents travel quite a bit."

"Rome, Madrid, Paris, London. You name it. My parents have probably been drunk there."

He stole a glance over at this passenger. In his previous encounters with Tricia, she had always been very upbeat, but tonight he sensed a bitterness in her that seemed very out of place in one so young.

"I'm sorry," was all he could think to say.

"It's not your fault," she replied, looking at him for the first time since she had gotten in the car, "you're the best thing that's happened to me tonight. Without you, I would still be in that bakery getting put down by my soon to be ex-boyfriend."

"So that relationship is on the rocks?"

"On them? Crashed into them and burned, I would say. Which makes me single again."

The way she looked at him then made his hands start to sweat on the steering wheel.

"I take it from the way you were talking before that things with Ryan's mother were...difficult?"

"We were very young when we met. It was a relationship that probably should never have happened, but we did get Ryan out of it, and I can't complain about that."

"Ryan's a good guy. I think he's the one kid in the whole drama department everybody likes."

"We got lucky with him. He sort of raised himself. I feel like I had very little to do with how he turned out."

"I wouldn't say that. I see quite a bit of you in him. The way he's kind to everyone and...good looks seem to run in the family."

"Ha...Thanks..." stammered Matthew, caught off guard again by something Tricia blurted out.

"I've embarrassed you," she said in an amused voice, noting how his face was turning red in the dashboard lights.

"I appreciate the compliment, but it's not appropriate for you to say things like that to me."

"You sound so authoritative when you say that," teased Tricia.

"Seriously, I'm your teacher and..."

"You're not, though. You're just subbing in to direct a play."

"I'm not sure anyone else would see the distinction. I especially don't think Principal Mathers would."

The headlights of Matthew's car illuminated the front gate of Gable Meadows, where a guard shack sat on one side of the road. He pulled to the curb across the street.

"I'm assuming you can walk from here without a problem?"

"This isn't a door to door service? I could get you in easy as pie."

"I'm not really up for meeting your parents right now. Thanks, just the same."

Tricia unbuckled her seat belt but didn't immediately get out of the car.

"My parents are in Rio," she said, turning in her seat to face him.

The temperature in the car seemed to climb ten degrees in as many seconds, and Matthew thought he could see a steamy fog starting to form already on the front windshield.

"Lucky them," he managed to say. His voice was suddenly strained, and he fought to calm himself.