Maclendy - Follow the Dream
An intimate (albeit PG-13) look at everyone's favorite waitress/actress and bartender who loves her. Starring magpieinthesky and me.
Step ball change kick lean spin lunge back knee down hips chin hands
The words become motion as Wendy repeats the routine in her head. The music halts, and she holds her position. A bead of sweat rolls down her neck from where her hair is gathered up into a still-tight bun. Her hair frizzing, her heart beating wildly, her body still but for her chest expanding and contracting as she takes in large gulps of air, she waits.
The sound of furious scribbling is broken by a voice from the darkness - "Okay. We'll let you know."
Wendy immediately relaxes, beams at the director, and follows the other dancers offstage. She grabs her change of clothes from her bag and takes advantage of the showers back behind the green room. Once she's dry and clothed, she pushes through the mass of would-be actors to exit the theatre. Glancing up at the bright noontime sun, Wendy digs through her bag to put on her sunglasses. With a spring in her step, and full of adrenaline still coursing through her, she walks northwest until she finds an empty cab and hails it.
She climbs in with a soft "75th and Amsterdam, please," and she settles into her seat, smiling. Wendy's life has been unbelievably good of late. Though she hasn't had the kind of theatrical success as she had in "Sweet Charity" over the past several months, she had a number of small background roles in some off-Broadway productions, where she had a lot of fun - but her main source of happiness lay where she was heading right now.
Carl had been so many things to her for more than a decade - friend, mentor, protector, boss, crush - and she felt so lucky that he had been all those and managed to become something infinitely dearer. Though their transition from friends to lovers had seemed sudden, the fact that their feelings had changed so gradually helped to smooth the way for the pair. The honeymoon phase of their relationship had fallen away quickly - they had known each other too long for that - but that had been replaced by feelings of deep love, trust, and respect, that, combined with their strong attraction to one another, made life very interesting.
As the cab pulls up in front of the bar, Wendy rouses herself and pays the driver. Straightening herself, she skips down the steps to the bar and opens the door. Her eyes are immediately drawn to Carl, who is slightly turned away from her and is pouring a beer from the tap. When he turns back to the patron to exchange the alcohol for money, Wendy catches his eye. Smiling mischievously at him, she flounces past the bar. With a "Hey, fella," and a wink, she pushes open the door to the break room.
Carl’s grateful for his steady grip when Wendy enters the bar because he’s got no time to clean up broken glass. That said, he’s quick to release the lever on the tap as soon as the beer finishes and before the customer can blink twice, the stein is on the bar and Carl’s three strides closer to the back door. With a wide grin painting his face, he enters the room, catching sight of his girlfriend pulling her work shirt over her head.
Girlfriend.
They’ve been together six months now and the word still sounds sweet as honey rolling around in his mind.
He takes a deep breath and steps towards her, close enough to wrap his arms around her waist as the thin cotton slides down her back. “How’d it go, babe?”
He presses his lips to her ear, the smell of sweat and lily-scented shampoo instantly drifting into his nostrils. It smells girly and athletic and beautiful. Just like his woman. “You nailed it, right?”
Wendy feels a pleasant shiver go down her spine when she feels her man’s arms go around her. Her smile widens, and she spins around in his arms, placing her hands on his broad shoulders to lift her up on her toes long enough to plant a lingering kiss on his lips.
Pulling back just for a moment, she sighs happily. “You bet I did.” Before Carl can lean in for another kiss, though, she reconsiders. “I mean, I think I did. I had the routine down, and I felt really on, but who knows what the directors want?” As quickly as she doubted herself, she recalls the adrenaline that coursed through her - that still is coursing through her - and her mouth twists upward into a smile.
“But I do know what I want.”
Carl purses his lips, grunting slightly, as his mind rushes straight to the gutter at her subtle hinting.
He glances over at his work desk, piled high with stacks of paper that demand his attention. They have bills to pay, kegs to order, customer comment cards to read through and yet, what he wants right now is to push all that to the floor and take her. What he wants is to feel her skin burning hot beneath him as his lips ravish every square inch of her lithe body. What he wants is to forget about the bar and get lost in the sweetest oblivion known to man.
But the look in her eyes doesn’t quite line up with his own thoughts and he finds himself coming quickly back to Earth.
“And what, my sweetling, do you want?” he asks.
Wendy laughs and gives Carl a peck on the cheek before pulling away. “You are so easy, you know that?” She likes to tease him, but he knows she’s good for it. They’ve had some very... very good times exploring each other, making love, letting off some steam - especially on days when she’s revved up like this - but, she thinks with an inner sigh, not while there are customers waiting to order their lunch.
“What I want is to get that part, but that’s out of my hands.” She pauses to grab her apron, and tying it on, she adds, “Anyway, there’s always another audition!”
He watches her add the finishing touches to her work outfit and a smile twitches at the corners of his lips. He may be easy, but she makes it that way. That’s part of why he feels they fit so well together.
When she’s ready, they leave the break room together, hand in hand.
“Another audition, huh? What’s the dream going to be this time?”
Smiling sideways at Carl, Wendy shrugs. “Well, there’s a lot going on in preparation of the holiday season, so I could try for A Christmas Carol, White Christmas, How the Grinch Stole Christmas... but there’s this off-off-off Broadway production that sounds like it would be a lot of fun. I’ll probably go for all of them, but this one? Well, it would be a dream come true playing a role Marylin Monroe once played.”
She squeezes Carl’s hand before letting go to take orders from some patrons who look like they might have been waiting for a while. A few times she looks back at him at the bar and smiles knowingly at Carl, who is clearly processing what she just told him, and when she finishes, she heads back to him.
He’s just finished up a scotch and soda for one of his oldest regulars (a gray-haired WWII war vet named Lenny) when Wendy appears at the server section of the bar. He can tell from the look in her eyes that she knows he’s spent the last ten minutes trying to figure out what role she was talking about earlier. But he doesn’t open with that.
“How’s the herd tonight, babe?”
Wendy narrows her eyes at him. She knows he won’t ask her outright about the role, and for a moment she toys with the thought of making him guess... but she has other ideas on how to make him squirm. They’ve known each other too long to quit teasing each other entirely.
“Well,” she tilts her head playfully, pretending to consider. “It’s a pretty good crowd. A good mix of regulars and new people. They’re a bit split on whether they want to get cool drinks or warm food, though. I guess some like it cold, and, well...” Wendy winks at Carl.
Carl winks back, catching the signal of a customer (Ted) for another round. “When the beer is flowing, the bartender gets a little hot for a certain waitress?” He chuckles and grabs the pitcher that’s perching on top of the counter. With a practiced hand, he slides under the tap and pulls the lever. The amber liquid quickly fills the container and in a few short minutes, it’s back in Ted’s hand and Carl’s attention is back on Wendy.
“The more drinks you sell tonight, babe, the hotter it’s going to get in here.”
Wendy turns back to Carl, having rattled off the food orders to Roy, who’d come out of the kitchen to check on things out in the bar. “Then I guess I won’t need my sweater, since I’ll be selling those drinks like it’s a desert out there. Of course, I don’t mind. I like it hot.” Leaning against the counter, she smiles innocently at him - or as innocently as she can, considering it’s Carl she’s talking to.
“Saucy minx,” he murmurs, half-tempted to just pull her up on top of the bar and show how hot he really gets. But she already knows how he puts the muy in muy caliente. And technically they are on the clock and he is the boss and it would cause a whole world of problems if he tried...so...he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “My place tonight? Or are we going to yours so you can sing to me in your best Marilyn Monroe impression? You know, for practice?”
He licks his lips and grins lasciviously.
At the thought of delivering a private performance of “Happy Birthday Mr. President” to Carl, Wendy suddenly feels pleasantly warm. She rouses herself - she has got to start concentrating on her work, or that private show won’t be so private anymore - and flashes a sultry smile at Carl before she has to play nice.
“Okay, big boss man. My place then. But if you want me in costume, you’re wearing a tie.” Wendy starts to head back to the kitchen to get the orders out, but as she reaches the door, she turns to give Carl one last lingering look.
“Later, Sugar.”
As she disappears, he tries hard to concentrate on the drink orders being shouted out by a restless young adult crowd that’s just swarmed the bar. They are the type of kids who would normally be down at the Scorpion and the Toad, but he’s heard through the grapevine that the college bar’s owner is being investigated for selling cocaine.
Slowly but surely though, he gets them done.
Beer. Vodka on the Rocks. Rum and Coke. Amaretto Sour. Beer. California Skipper. 13 shots of Blue UV.
As the beverages pass from his hand to theirs, a thought flashes through his mind.
A tie?
He’s positive he’s got one hanging in his closest somewhere, but he’s pretty sure it’s still got a grape jelly stain on it or something.
But if he plays his cards right tonight and does what he does, he knows Wendy’s not going to be paying attention to his tie.
Step ball change kick lean spin lunge back knee down hips chin hands
The words become motion as Wendy repeats the routine in her head. The music halts, and she holds her position. A bead of sweat rolls down her neck from where her hair is gathered up into a still-tight bun. Her hair frizzing, her heart beating wildly, her body still but for her chest expanding and contracting as she takes in large gulps of air, she waits.
The sound of furious scribbling is broken by a voice from the darkness - "Okay. We'll let you know."
Wendy immediately relaxes, beams at the director, and follows the other dancers offstage. She grabs her change of clothes from her bag and takes advantage of the showers back behind the green room. Once she's dry and clothed, she pushes through the mass of would-be actors to exit the theatre. Glancing up at the bright noontime sun, Wendy digs through her bag to put on her sunglasses. With a spring in her step, and full of adrenaline still coursing through her, she walks northwest until she finds an empty cab and hails it.
She climbs in with a soft "75th and Amsterdam, please," and she settles into her seat, smiling. Wendy's life has been unbelievably good of late. Though she hasn't had the kind of theatrical success as she had in "Sweet Charity" over the past several months, she had a number of small background roles in some off-Broadway productions, where she had a lot of fun - but her main source of happiness lay where she was heading right now.
Carl had been so many things to her for more than a decade - friend, mentor, protector, boss, crush - and she felt so lucky that he had been all those and managed to become something infinitely dearer. Though their transition from friends to lovers had seemed sudden, the fact that their feelings had changed so gradually helped to smooth the way for the pair. The honeymoon phase of their relationship had fallen away quickly - they had known each other too long for that - but that had been replaced by feelings of deep love, trust, and respect, that, combined with their strong attraction to one another, made life very interesting.
As the cab pulls up in front of the bar, Wendy rouses herself and pays the driver. Straightening herself, she skips down the steps to the bar and opens the door. Her eyes are immediately drawn to Carl, who is slightly turned away from her and is pouring a beer from the tap. When he turns back to the patron to exchange the alcohol for money, Wendy catches his eye. Smiling mischievously at him, she flounces past the bar. With a "Hey, fella," and a wink, she pushes open the door to the break room.
Carl’s grateful for his steady grip when Wendy enters the bar because he’s got no time to clean up broken glass. That said, he’s quick to release the lever on the tap as soon as the beer finishes and before the customer can blink twice, the stein is on the bar and Carl’s three strides closer to the back door. With a wide grin painting his face, he enters the room, catching sight of his girlfriend pulling her work shirt over her head.
Girlfriend.
They’ve been together six months now and the word still sounds sweet as honey rolling around in his mind.
He takes a deep breath and steps towards her, close enough to wrap his arms around her waist as the thin cotton slides down her back. “How’d it go, babe?”
He presses his lips to her ear, the smell of sweat and lily-scented shampoo instantly drifting into his nostrils. It smells girly and athletic and beautiful. Just like his woman. “You nailed it, right?”
Wendy feels a pleasant shiver go down her spine when she feels her man’s arms go around her. Her smile widens, and she spins around in his arms, placing her hands on his broad shoulders to lift her up on her toes long enough to plant a lingering kiss on his lips.
Pulling back just for a moment, she sighs happily. “You bet I did.” Before Carl can lean in for another kiss, though, she reconsiders. “I mean, I think I did. I had the routine down, and I felt really on, but who knows what the directors want?” As quickly as she doubted herself, she recalls the adrenaline that coursed through her - that still is coursing through her - and her mouth twists upward into a smile.
“But I do know what I want.”
Carl purses his lips, grunting slightly, as his mind rushes straight to the gutter at her subtle hinting.
He glances over at his work desk, piled high with stacks of paper that demand his attention. They have bills to pay, kegs to order, customer comment cards to read through and yet, what he wants right now is to push all that to the floor and take her. What he wants is to feel her skin burning hot beneath him as his lips ravish every square inch of her lithe body. What he wants is to forget about the bar and get lost in the sweetest oblivion known to man.
But the look in her eyes doesn’t quite line up with his own thoughts and he finds himself coming quickly back to Earth.
“And what, my sweetling, do you want?” he asks.
Wendy laughs and gives Carl a peck on the cheek before pulling away. “You are so easy, you know that?” She likes to tease him, but he knows she’s good for it. They’ve had some very... very good times exploring each other, making love, letting off some steam - especially on days when she’s revved up like this - but, she thinks with an inner sigh, not while there are customers waiting to order their lunch.
“What I want is to get that part, but that’s out of my hands.” She pauses to grab her apron, and tying it on, she adds, “Anyway, there’s always another audition!”
He watches her add the finishing touches to her work outfit and a smile twitches at the corners of his lips. He may be easy, but she makes it that way. That’s part of why he feels they fit so well together.
When she’s ready, they leave the break room together, hand in hand.
“Another audition, huh? What’s the dream going to be this time?”
Smiling sideways at Carl, Wendy shrugs. “Well, there’s a lot going on in preparation of the holiday season, so I could try for A Christmas Carol, White Christmas, How the Grinch Stole Christmas... but there’s this off-off-off Broadway production that sounds like it would be a lot of fun. I’ll probably go for all of them, but this one? Well, it would be a dream come true playing a role Marylin Monroe once played.”
She squeezes Carl’s hand before letting go to take orders from some patrons who look like they might have been waiting for a while. A few times she looks back at him at the bar and smiles knowingly at Carl, who is clearly processing what she just told him, and when she finishes, she heads back to him.
He’s just finished up a scotch and soda for one of his oldest regulars (a gray-haired WWII war vet named Lenny) when Wendy appears at the server section of the bar. He can tell from the look in her eyes that she knows he’s spent the last ten minutes trying to figure out what role she was talking about earlier. But he doesn’t open with that.
“How’s the herd tonight, babe?”
Wendy narrows her eyes at him. She knows he won’t ask her outright about the role, and for a moment she toys with the thought of making him guess... but she has other ideas on how to make him squirm. They’ve known each other too long to quit teasing each other entirely.
“Well,” she tilts her head playfully, pretending to consider. “It’s a pretty good crowd. A good mix of regulars and new people. They’re a bit split on whether they want to get cool drinks or warm food, though. I guess some like it cold, and, well...” Wendy winks at Carl.
Carl winks back, catching the signal of a customer (Ted) for another round. “When the beer is flowing, the bartender gets a little hot for a certain waitress?” He chuckles and grabs the pitcher that’s perching on top of the counter. With a practiced hand, he slides under the tap and pulls the lever. The amber liquid quickly fills the container and in a few short minutes, it’s back in Ted’s hand and Carl’s attention is back on Wendy.
“The more drinks you sell tonight, babe, the hotter it’s going to get in here.”
Wendy turns back to Carl, having rattled off the food orders to Roy, who’d come out of the kitchen to check on things out in the bar. “Then I guess I won’t need my sweater, since I’ll be selling those drinks like it’s a desert out there. Of course, I don’t mind. I like it hot.” Leaning against the counter, she smiles innocently at him - or as innocently as she can, considering it’s Carl she’s talking to.
“Saucy minx,” he murmurs, half-tempted to just pull her up on top of the bar and show how hot he really gets. But she already knows how he puts the muy in muy caliente. And technically they are on the clock and he is the boss and it would cause a whole world of problems if he tried...so...he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “My place tonight? Or are we going to yours so you can sing to me in your best Marilyn Monroe impression? You know, for practice?”
He licks his lips and grins lasciviously.
At the thought of delivering a private performance of “Happy Birthday Mr. President” to Carl, Wendy suddenly feels pleasantly warm. She rouses herself - she has got to start concentrating on her work, or that private show won’t be so private anymore - and flashes a sultry smile at Carl before she has to play nice.
“Okay, big boss man. My place then. But if you want me in costume, you’re wearing a tie.” Wendy starts to head back to the kitchen to get the orders out, but as she reaches the door, she turns to give Carl one last lingering look.
“Later, Sugar.”
As she disappears, he tries hard to concentrate on the drink orders being shouted out by a restless young adult crowd that’s just swarmed the bar. They are the type of kids who would normally be down at the Scorpion and the Toad, but he’s heard through the grapevine that the college bar’s owner is being investigated for selling cocaine.
Slowly but surely though, he gets them done.
Beer. Vodka on the Rocks. Rum and Coke. Amaretto Sour. Beer. California Skipper. 13 shots of Blue UV.
As the beverages pass from his hand to theirs, a thought flashes through his mind.
A tie?
He’s positive he’s got one hanging in his closest somewhere, but he’s pretty sure it’s still got a grape jelly stain on it or something.
But if he plays his cards right tonight and does what he does, he knows Wendy’s not going to be paying attention to his tie.