Ian was trying hard not to laugh when she handed him her little closing night gift. It was wrapped in blue Kleenex tied together with a little gold Christmas ribbon.
“Go ahead.” Saxon crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “I knew you’d think it was funny.”
“I’m so sorry, Bessie.” Ian stifled the last giggle. “But the irony…”
“Just stop.” She smiled with him. “I get it. Kleenex girl wraps her gifts in Kleenex. I didn’t have time to run out and buy proper paper so I just used what was at hand.”
Ian guffawed.
“Okay, that didn’t come out right.” She said and then couldn’t help but laugh herself. “If my Granny knew that teaching me that being a lady meant you always kept a tissue under your brassiere strap for emergencies would lead to a nickname she’d be rolling over in her grave.”
“If your Granny knew you’d have the sniffles on the first day of acting seminar, she’d have told you not to be seated anywhere near that snooty curr from Kingsport.” Ian told her.
“You mean Clare Humphreys?” Saxon asked.
“Whatever her name is.” Ian said, his attention back to the little gift in his hand. “Shall I open this or wait for the cast party?”
“Open it, Clem.” Saxon was excited. “I don’t want to have to explain it to everyone.”
“Or have them see the wrapping paper…” Ian teased.
Saxon snorted. Ian loved it when he made her snort. “Stop…or I’ll take it back.”
Ian carefully untied the ribbon and waded through the layers of blue tissues. When he got it all folded back he looked at what was swaddled there in the palm of his hand. “A penny cut in half?” He looked up at her.
Saxon smiled. “Remember dress tech?”
“When those nasty kids from Abingdon High started throwing coins on the stage?” Ian recalled. “And during your final monologue one went down your bodice?”
“The very one.” She pointed. “Jeff Munson and I struggled to get it in a vice and cut it in half.”
“Why in half?”
“Because one part is for you and one part is for me.” She smiled and reached over and plucked one from the palm of Ian’s hand. “Think of it sort of as a physical reminder of our promise.”
“Which one?” Ian knew, but he liked to tease her.
“The big one.” Saxon kissed her half penny and dropped it in her clutch. “Which ever one of us gets nominated for the Oscar first…”
Ian shook his head. “…Takes the other as their date.”
“Then we can put the penny back together.” Saxon sighed. “Reunited symbolically like Romeo and Juliet.”
“From whence the penny came.” Ian said.
“I knew you’d understand.”
“Here give it a kiss for luck.”
He held his half penny to her lips. She smiled and kissed the shiny copper before he slipped it in his pocket.
“Don’t lose that.” Saxon warned. “I’ll have to kill you if you do.”
“I’ll give it to Aunt Hil. She’ll know where to put it for safe keeping.” Ian assured her. “Now, my Juliet I have something for you.”
“You didn’t have to.” But she was thrilled he did.
Ian held out a little white box tied together in a red Christmas ribbon. “Open it now, so I don’t have to explain to everyone. Besides that will take the karma off it.”
Saxon eagerly slipped the ribbon off and opened the lid. Peering inside, she found a single rosebud nested in a layer of white cotton. She looked up at Ian with a question in her eyes.
“It’s an almost forgotten theatre tradition.” Ian explained. “I read about it in a book. When you have your first lead in a play, you keep the most perfect rose bud from the first bouquet you are presented on Opening Night. On Closing Night you present it to the person in the cast you think is destined to be the biggest star.”
“Oh Ian.” Saxon didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or kiss him. She did all three.
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