A Gray Lie

   Veronica was late.

Again.

She knew it and rued the fact--yes, she had to admit that it was a fact that she was always late.

"It distinguishes me," she'd explained early on in the spirit of full disclosure and all that--wanted Mary Ellen to know before they went any farther.

"That's okay," Mary Ellen had said, then laughed, that beautiful contralto laugh that was the first thing Veronica noticed about her, the first attraction in a growing list. "We all have our little faults," Mary Ellen said.

Veronica looked at her watch. 7:23 and she was 10 minutes away. Well, actually 15, only 15 if she got all the lights, but she could do it, close enough for a 7:30 curtain....

She could call, but calling would delay her, make her late, well later, which would be worse. Mary Ellen had been very clear about the pleasures of reading the playwright's notes, the director's comments, taking in the set, the stage, the anticipation of what was to come. "That's what I love about live theater," she had said. "Anything can happen, the play is written, the cast have learned their lines, rehearsed, but the execution each time is always different--it's never the same play twice."

"I love that too," Veronica had responded, smiling broadly as if she too were a frequent theater goer. She wanted this to work, more than anything, but now she was late, a too familiar experience, but she knew what to do, ran a light, cocked her head--no sirens, almost there.

Mary Ellen had the tickets. "I'll meet you in the lobby," she had said.

Veronica was now 3 blocks from the theater. She avoided the clock, just drove, made two green lights in a row, and the entrance to the parking lot was in sight.

A minute later she was in the lot, circling the parked cars, up another level. Glanced at the clock, 7:33, but it was often wrong. She prayed that it was wrong and just then her prayers were answered, a space. She careened into the empty space, leapt our of the car and ran, just as another car sped past. Good. She could tell Mary Ellen that she wasn't the only person arriving late  the traffic was terrible, I hit every red light and the guy in front of me.... Maybe she could make a little joke about late arrivals being fashionable.

She ran, a good trick in 3 inch heels and a pencil skirt, but she ran and was in the lobby 2 minutes later, looking for Mary Ellen, in the crowded? lobby, which confused her. Was it the wrong day? the wrong theater?

"Oh, shit," she said just as somebody tapped her on the shoulder.

"Hello, Beauty." It was Mary Ellen, smiling her lovely smile, not mad, happy to see her.

"I'm sorry," Veronica began, and began the first lie, "but the traffic...."

Mary Ellen smiled, gave her a quick, forgiving hug, whispered, "Come on. Let's find our seats."

"I'm so sorry," Veronica tried again, but Mary Ellen was showing an usher their tickets, then pulling Veronica down an aisle. When Veronica had the nerve to look at the stage, she was surprised to see that the stage, designed as a high-end bar, was empty, no actors, no action, nothing.

"Take a breath," Mary Ellen whispered. "Relax. We're fine."

"But it's nearly 8:00.

"I know," Mary Ellen whispered. "Curtain is at 8:00." She squeezed Veronica's hand, "I lied," she said and laughed. "Probably won't work again, but aren't you happy to be here? I'm glad you're here."

"Probably not," Veronica admitted, and, after a short interior struggle, managed to smile, and say, "Well, I'm glad it worked this time."