When he wasn’t at rehearsal, Chris kept himself busy reading scripts, talking to Noel, his agent, and fielding emails from his assistant, Jenny, and, less frequently, Sherri, about upcoming publicity events, that included trips to New York, Chicago, and LA. When Victor was feeling up to it, Chris would visit him to ask advice about the play or just talk. He was always aware of Simon’s protective presence and learned to be alert for signs that Victor was tiring.

Victor chafed a little under Simon’s strict watch, and Chris observed the gentle spats in which Victor would tell Simon to stop hovering and Simon would gently but firmly insist that he rest now. And Chris would take his leave, touched by the obvious affection that the two men had for each other and saddened for both of them.

He was busy enough, and didn’t really miss LA; he took an afternoon off to go hiking in the nearby hills, and he enjoyed the clean air and the view from Professor Estrada’s back porch. Still, he was aware of a sense of isolation. Being on a movie set for six months, then busy with meetings, post-production work, and social events had conditioned him to being around people.

So when Luke had asked him one evening at rehearsal if he wanted to start running in the morning with him and Rob, he jumped at the chance.

Chris was up with the sunrise. He put on his workout clothes, laced up his running shoes and headed down to the high school track.

He’d thought he was just on time, but they must have been early for both of them were already there.

“Mr. Movie Star, glad you could get your head off the pillow and join us!” Luke grinned at him.

Chris smiled at the good-natured ribbing. “It’s not easy without the servants to draw my bath and bring me coffee, you know. I don’t know how you peasants do it.”

“I’ve trained myself to wake up at 4:30 am every day without help,” said Rob seriously. He was moving slowly in what looked like Tai Chi.

“Wow. That’s ... great discipline,” said Chris. Rob continued his Tai Chi while Luke engaged in a less exotic hamstring stretch. “I was just kidding about the servants,” he added.

Rob nodded, still not smiling. Chris wasn’t sure if he’d understood it that any of it was a joke.

Luke gave a light snort. Behind Rob’s back he caught Chris’s eye with a smile and shook his head slightly. Chris took it to mean something like, Don’t worry about him, he’s an oddball but harmless, and gave Luke a half-smile in return.

“We usually run about four miles, sixteen times around the track. Work for you?”

“Works for me.” In order to play the charismatic Andrew Spark, Chris had had to get in top-notch shape for Galactic Crusaders. He could run five miles easily before he began to tire, but he didn’t particularly enjoy running, and was more interested in having company.

“Let’s go.”

They hit the track and fell into an easy jog, Chris in the middle.

“How long have you guys been running together?” he asked, making conversation.

“Just since the play started,” Luke answered. “I like running, but I’d rather do it with someone else.”

“I find having accountability is vital to success in all areas,” Rob said.

Chris always seemed to lack a ready response to Rob’s pronouncements. “Yeah. I guess that’s true,” he managed. “You enjoy running?”

Rob nodded. “I’m learning to like it. I’m planning on running the Portland Marathon in October, so I’m training as much as I can now.”

“Yeah, four miles is nothing to this wing nut,” Luke chuckled. “He’s just humoring me.”

“Not at all,” Rob replied. “As I said, the accountability alone is huge. It helps motivate me to run regularly. And after you leave today, I’ll probably do some interval running, which is part of the training.”

“What about you, Luke?” Chris huffed. They’d just finished their first lap. “Any marathons in your future?”

“Nah.” Luke shook his head. “I’m not that ambitious. I just run for the fun of it. I totally respect that you’re doing the marathon, though, Rob. I think it’s a real worthy goal.”

“Thank you, sir,” Rob replied.

There was that “sir” again. Chris suppressed a smile.

“So, McPherson, how’s your first week in Silverweed been? You miss LA?” Luke asked as they rounded the far end of the track for the second time.

“Nah. The air’s cleaner up here, people are friendlier, no complaints. It’s a nice little town.”

“And how do you feel about the play?”

“Well …” Chris shook his head. “I guess it’s coming together. I just hope Victor didn’t make a mistake putting me in charge.”

“What, are you kidding?” Luke laughed. “This is just community theater. It’s nothing compared to being in movies and TV shows. You’ve got this.”

Chris forced a laugh as they started the third lap. Joy had said almost the same thing. “Somehow it’s different when you’re in charge.”

“If you don’t mind me saying, sir,” Rob interjected, “perhaps you’re suffering from an upper limit problem.”

“What’s that?”

“A fear of success, essentially, that shows up when you’re on the verge of a major shift in your life, professionally or personally. When things start going well, we often engage in some way of bringing ourselves down.”

“You think I’m afraid the play is going to be too successful or something?”

Rob shrugged as the rounded the far end of the track. “Maybe you felt like you were getting too close to success, so you chose to do something you didn’t feel confident about.”

“Why would I do that?”

Rob shrugged again. “Maybe you feel guilty about your success, or you have some fear about it. Subconsciously, you figure you’ll feel safer if you find some way to bring yourself back down to a level that you’re used to.”

Chris shook his head. This sounded like pop psychology at best. “I don’t think that’s the prob—”

“Kinda like when a movie star’s getting pretty famous and he goes and breaks some reporter guy’s camera?” suggested Luke.

Chris felt his face warm in a way that had nothing to do with the mile they’d just completed. He pushed forward into the second mile with determination. “I paid him back for the camera,” he mumbled. “And I’m not sure what that would have to do with the play.”

“Think about it,” said Rob. “You’ve been in some well-publicized fights. What else was happening in your life when they took place?”

Chris didn’t particularly want to rehash the fights with Rob—or even Luke. But he didn’t want to look like he was hiding anything, and it was all public knowledge anyway. “Well … the first time, when I broke that guy’s camera, was just after the last season of Campground. The show had just been cancelled, so I wouldn’t call it fear of success.”

“Weren’t you nominated for an Emmy that season?” asked Rob. “The show was nominated as well, best comedy, I believe. There was a lot of talk about it, because it was cancelled even though the critics loved it.”

Chris ran a quarter-length of track without saying anything. “Yeah,” he said finally. “I guess I broke the dude’s camera just after I found out I’d been nominated.”

“So this is kinda interesting,” said Luke. “Okay, when did the next fight take place?”

Chris was breathing more heavily than he usually would have. “I guess … just after I signed the Crusaders contract. I was kind of a dark horse. I beat out Lawrence Bigsby for the role, and the press was all over me. Then, the third time, I was in a bar about a week after we finished shooting. Some asshole was needling me all evening about Vanessa, my co-star, and I called him some names and it got physical. He threw the first punch, though,” he added quickly.

“A fight when you’re nominated for a major award, another when you sign the biggest contract of your career, and one more when you wrap the movie up. Now, just weeks before that movie is released, you take on a job you don’t feel qualified for so you have something to feel less than successful about.” Rob sounded annoyingly sure of himself.

Chris pushed himself harder into the next lap, anxious now to get the run over and done with.

“He almost got in a fight in a bar up here, just last week,” Luke offered. “You think that’s part of this upper limiting thing?”

Chris glared at him. Traitor.

Rob nodded. “I’m not an expert, but it could very well be. I’d be happy to give you a book on the subject if you’d like, Chris.”

It was the first time Rob had called him Chris. The whole thing was silly, but he decided to be polite. “Sure, Rob. I would love to read your book,” he said, resigned.

It was two weeks before the Fourth of July weekend. Rehearsals were going marginally better; they weren’t off book yet, but there was hope. Doreen was reading her lines more fluently, and Wyatt was showing some real promise as the determined Demetrius.

Now Joy was on stage, wrapping up tonight’s rehearsal with instructions about the parade and a request for volunteers. Tracie had somehow been able to obtain a low-boy trailer, and Luke and Rob were in charge of building it into a float. Charlotte and her high school friends were eager to take over the decoration. Those who had costumes ready would wear them; Simon would help everyone else find something to wear, there would be flyers and so forth ... After several minutes of delegating and instructing, she stepped off the stage.

Chris was happy to let Joy be in charge; he hated dealing with details like this.

But there was one thing he didn’t mind organizing.

“Wait!” he called before the cast could disperse. “After the parade, anyone who wants to come, we’re going up to the Falls. Picnic lunch, bring your bathing suit!”

Silverweed Falls, the waterfall that gave the town its name, was about a half-hour drive from the center of town. In the summer it was a popular place for picnics and swimming.

Joy looked at him, surprised. He shrugged and lowered his voice.

“I thought it would be fun. Community building and all that.”

“It’s Fourth of July weekend. A lot of people have plans.” She looked slightly put-out. He probably should have consulted her first; he knew she didn’t like being left in the dark about anything.

“Well, this can be for all us loners who don’t have plans.” He paused. “Do you have plans?”

She studied the stage for a moment. “No.”

“You’ll have plenty of time up at the Falls, then.”

“Oh I don’t know ... I was going to get some stuff done around the house.”

“Joy, it’s a holiday, a long weekend! The housework’s not going anywhere. Come hang out.”

She shook her head slightly. “I have a feeling it’ll just be you and all the high school students.”

“Oh, I’m going,” Doreen interrupted them as she and Simon walked past. “I haven’t been out there in a couple of years. Imma bringing a floatie and a six pack and make the most of it.”

Chris grinned. “Great, Doreen. Simon?”

“Sorry, darling. I’m going to spend the day with Victor. I’m hoping we can get him out to the fireworks in the evening. He enjoys them so.”

Chris’s grin faded. Left unspoken was the fact that these would be Victor’s last fireworks. “You let me know if you need any help.”

Simon smiled and nodded. “Of course we will. Joy, you really should go. We all need a floatie and a six pack once in a while.” He turned to Doreen. “Come on, darling. I need to go over your costume with you.”

Joy smiled reluctantly as Doreen and Simon walked off toward the Green Room. “Fine. What time?”

He shrugged. “Just whenever the parade is over. You need a ride?”

“No, that’s okay,” she said, a little too quickly. “I’ll meet you up there.”

“With a six pack and a floatie,” he reminded her.

She smiled. “With a six pack and a floatie.”