Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 98

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Second Chances in New Port Stephen - Chapter 98

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Eli almost fell off his bike, he stopped so fast. Straddling the
Huffy in the tall grass by the roadside, he fumbled to get his phone out.
His caller ID informed him it was Margo. He deflated, but answered.
“How’s Boca?” he said between panting breaths.
“Shut up,” Margo returned. Her voice held a giddy note Eli had never heard before. “Why do
you sound like you just ran a marathon? Fuck it, doesn’t matter. Are you sitting down?”
Eli looked both ways along the stretch of empty road. “Not really possible at the moment.”
Margo wasn’t listening. “Dorothy’s happening!” she yelled into the phone.

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Eli had to hold it out, far away from his ear. “Seriously?” he shouted from a distance.
“Yes! They called me a few minutes ago. We’re going to wait to announce after New Year’s,
obviously. Shooting starts at the end of summer. It’s happening, Eli. It’s finally happening.” She
squealed like a sea lion at an aquarium show.
“Wow. Congrats, Marg. That’s so exciting.” For a moment, Eli forgot all his petty problems. He
leaned over the handlebars on one forearm, feeling pride for his friend well up in his chest.
“You’re a legend. I mean it. You’re going to crush it.”
“We’re going to crush it,” she said, “if you want to be my Felix, that is.”
Eli stood up a little straighter. “So they’re okay with me? It’s not an issue?”
“Not only is it not an issue, when they heard I wanted to cast a comedian with no acting credits,
they were thrilled. Dude, they’re getting you cheap. Big names are expensive.”
“That’s… the most backhanded compliment I’ve ever received.”
“You’re missing the point: You’re not an albatross. I showed them your standup. They know how
hilarious you are. I told you, you’re good.”
Alone on a dark road in the middle of nowhere, Eli allowed the tears to well in his eyes. Hearing
Margo say that—he realized it was something he’d needed to hear. For a long time. He dragged
a hand through his hair, biting his lip. “You’re sure?” He hated how his voice shook, but he got
the words out. “They—they really want me?”
“You turnip, of course they want you. We all do.”