would’ve chucked me out the door on my arse.”
Her snickers turned to all out laughter. “I guess it’s a good thing the wine has me feeling pretty mellow right now.”
“That was the idea,” he admitted, as he tapped his head with his index finger and nodded.
Good looking and funny to boot. Friends, friendship, remember . She was doomed, always a sucker for a man who could make her laugh, just as James had right up until the end.
There was a small tug at her heart as she thought about James, but David’s dimple gave her the strength to gently push it aside. There would be no sadness tonight.
Another sip of wine, then she shifted in her seat to get more comfortable. “Tell me about being an actor.”
He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Well, it’s not as glamorous as most people think. Sure, I get to don costumes or travel sometimes, but mostly there’s a lot of waiting around while they set up the cameras for each shot. That’s precisely why I love the theater so much. There’s more of a chance to fully immerse myself in a character, because of fewer interruptions.”
“You sound like you really love it.” The transformation that actors so readily went through had always fascinated her.
“Aye, I really do.” He sighed. “The only thing I don’t like is not having the time to see my parents as often as I’d like.”
A family man, too. Could he get any more perfect? Friends. How many times will I have to remember that? “So are you close to your parents?”
David’s head bobbed in reply. “My Mum and Dad worked hard to give me a good childhood. And when I told them I wanted to be an actor, well, they made sure I could go to the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama. Said if that’s what I wanted, then I needed to go all the way for it.”
“They must be very proud of you.” Not that she would know what parental pride felt like. Her parents had spent all of their time tearing each other, and her, apart.
“Chuffed to bits, to hear my Mum speak of it, which is why I’d like to visit them more often.” David sat back in his seat again, his hands in his lap. “What about your parents? Have you seen them since moving to London?”
Kristin gasped. Now here was a subject she usually shied away from, not having had such a storybook childhood. Sometimes, she told friends her parents died, just so she wouldn’t have to talk about them.
But the glass of wine had calmed her nerves enough, and she had to start trusting more than Ingrid and James.
“I haven’t seen my father since I was twelve, and I haven’t seen nor talked to my mother since I moved to London.” She twirled the stem of her wineglass.
David leaned forward in interest. “Why is that?”
Kristin picked up her glass and downed the rest of her wine in one gulp. “My parent’s didn’t exactly have a peaceful marriage. Nothing my father did was ever good enough for my mother, and so over the years they fought, he drank, and then, finally, he left.”
Kristin closed her eyes as the wine hit her stomach radiating warmth throughout her body. Was it the wine that made it so easy to share her hidden side with him? The image of her drunken father on the front porch holding her shoulders telling a poor twelve-year old girl, “I’m leaving because of you and your damn mother,” flashed through her mind.
Abandonment by the man she’d loved ruined her trust in other people so many years ago. Only James helped her through the pain.
Her eyes opened slowly. “My mother blamed me for my father leaving. Without him there, all of her anger shifted to me, so I spent the better part of my teenage years trying to live up to the same impossible standards that drove my father away.”
“That must have been horrible for you.” David’s eyes held tenderness and concern.
Kristin laid her hands flat on the table and tried to keep them from shaking. These memories brought up the despair, helplessness, and worthlessness she had
Her snickers turned to all out laughter. “I guess it’s a good thing the wine has me feeling pretty mellow right now.”
“That was the idea,” he admitted, as he tapped his head with his index finger and nodded.
Good looking and funny to boot. Friends, friendship, remember . She was doomed, always a sucker for a man who could make her laugh, just as James had right up until the end.
There was a small tug at her heart as she thought about James, but David’s dimple gave her the strength to gently push it aside. There would be no sadness tonight.
Another sip of wine, then she shifted in her seat to get more comfortable. “Tell me about being an actor.”
He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Well, it’s not as glamorous as most people think. Sure, I get to don costumes or travel sometimes, but mostly there’s a lot of waiting around while they set up the cameras for each shot. That’s precisely why I love the theater so much. There’s more of a chance to fully immerse myself in a character, because of fewer interruptions.”
“You sound like you really love it.” The transformation that actors so readily went through had always fascinated her.
“Aye, I really do.” He sighed. “The only thing I don’t like is not having the time to see my parents as often as I’d like.”
A family man, too. Could he get any more perfect? Friends. How many times will I have to remember that? “So are you close to your parents?”
David’s head bobbed in reply. “My Mum and Dad worked hard to give me a good childhood. And when I told them I wanted to be an actor, well, they made sure I could go to the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama. Said if that’s what I wanted, then I needed to go all the way for it.”
“They must be very proud of you.” Not that she would know what parental pride felt like. Her parents had spent all of their time tearing each other, and her, apart.
“Chuffed to bits, to hear my Mum speak of it, which is why I’d like to visit them more often.” David sat back in his seat again, his hands in his lap. “What about your parents? Have you seen them since moving to London?”
Kristin gasped. Now here was a subject she usually shied away from, not having had such a storybook childhood. Sometimes, she told friends her parents died, just so she wouldn’t have to talk about them.
But the glass of wine had calmed her nerves enough, and she had to start trusting more than Ingrid and James.
“I haven’t seen my father since I was twelve, and I haven’t seen nor talked to my mother since I moved to London.” She twirled the stem of her wineglass.
David leaned forward in interest. “Why is that?”
Kristin picked up her glass and downed the rest of her wine in one gulp. “My parent’s didn’t exactly have a peaceful marriage. Nothing my father did was ever good enough for my mother, and so over the years they fought, he drank, and then, finally, he left.”
Kristin closed her eyes as the wine hit her stomach radiating warmth throughout her body. Was it the wine that made it so easy to share her hidden side with him? The image of her drunken father on the front porch holding her shoulders telling a poor twelve-year old girl, “I’m leaving because of you and your damn mother,” flashed through her mind.
Abandonment by the man she’d loved ruined her trust in other people so many years ago. Only James helped her through the pain.
Her eyes opened slowly. “My mother blamed me for my father leaving. Without him there, all of her anger shifted to me, so I spent the better part of my teenage years trying to live up to the same impossible standards that drove my father away.”
“That must have been horrible for you.” David’s eyes held tenderness and concern.
Kristin laid her hands flat on the table and tried to keep them from shaking. These memories brought up the despair, helplessness, and worthlessness she had
Similar Books
