Soap Dreams by Stephanie Haefner

Robyn Miller jammed her hands knuckle-deep into a mound of raw ground beef and egg.

“Mommy, Mommy, come quick!” her daughter yelled from the living room.

“What’s going on?” She hoped her four-year-old hadn’t spilled her milk or gotten her head stuck between the railing spindles–again.

After a quick wash, Robyn dried her hands on her black velour lounge pants and trotted into the living room, nearly tripping over Malibu Barbie’s Super Cool Scooter. Paige’s favorite TV show now resembled a nasty blizzard. The little girl stood with the remote control in her hands, volume rising, as the roar of static thundered around them.

“Oh, honey, the station must be having trouble.” Robyn tightened the ponytail at the nape of her neck, then took the remote, immediately lowering the sound. “Let me check another channel.”

After an exciting morning of picking up the dry cleaning, mopping every surface of the thirty two-hundred square foot home, and prepping dinner for a husband who may or may not be home to eat it, she used this opportunity to rest, and plopped onto the leather couch. Ahhh, relaxation! She flipped through a few channels and saw they were in perfect working order. After surfing past her favorite soap opera, she instinctively clicked back, despite having been away from it for years. Even as a stay-at-home mom–or domestic goddess, as she preferred to be labeled–there wasn’t much time for lounging or eating bonbons. Robyn sank into the couch as the drama on the screen sucked her in and soothed her. The messy kitchen, a basket of unfolded laundry, the windows that needed washing–all her distractions disappeared as the TV beckoned her.

It was a quirky roommate her freshman year of college who had lured her in–the perfect way to spend an hour in between classes. And the next semester, when the two no longer had their afternoons free, she’d snagged an extra VCR from home and recorded the show each day. Missing even one episode had no longer been an option.

Once again, Robyn felt the familiar seduction from the screen and the faces of the never changing characters she remembered. But there were many new faces, too. A hair-pulling cat fight broke out between two divas she didn’t recognize, and once their perfectly manicured claws had retracted, the scene switched to a young couple inching their way toward a bed.

“Um, honey, why don’t you go clean up the toys in your room,” she said as the woman’s shirt dropped to the floor, her pink satin and black lace bra on display.

Paige sat on the floor, playing, oblivious to the sexuality displayed in front of her. “Mommy, do I have to?”

“Yes!”

The administrative assistant turned stay-at-home mom felt some guilt at shooing her daughter from the room to allow this steamy pleasure, but that feeling quickly faded. The TV couple caressed each other with a gentleness employed only by a man and woman in love. His hand brushed her cheek and pushed the stray hairs from her face. She smiled and took the hand in hers, pressing it to her heart as a sultry instrumental melody played in the background. He moved his hand and kissed the spot where it had been, inching his way toward his beloved’s mouth. The girl had starred on the soap for ages, but this tan muscled guy was new. He pulled apart the snaps of his shirt, one by one, revealing an admirable set of six-pack abs. And when the shirt cascaded to the floor it revealed a tattoo between his shoulder blades. The bold black ink gave him a bad-boy type of sexiness Robyn had never found attractive before, but a momentary tingle swept through her body. She studied his face and lips, his eyes, and realized they looked familiar. Could he have been on the show years ago and she hadn’t recognized him? Maybe she’d seen him on another show or ad?

The soap broke for commercial and she ran to the kitchen to finish her dinner preparations. Once her grandmother’s famous meatloaf recipe had been reproduced, she set the pan in the refrigerator and peeked in on her daughter. Seeing Paige was contently playing tea party in her bedroom with some of her most treasured guests, she inched the door closed and settled back on the couch with a handful of Oreos. When the show returned, the couple lay in post-orgasmic bliss, smiling at each other. The actor placed both hands on the sides of the woman’s face and kissed her. He pulled away as the camera panned in close.

“I love you.”

Robyn’s bottom jaw fell into her lap.

Those three little words, quite insignificant on their own, were some of the most powerful in the English language. Coming from some random actor’s mouth, they meant nothing to her. But these words had been spoken with a familiar voice, one she had heard before. Many times, actually. This tanned hottie on TV wasn’t some random actor.

She turned up the volume on the fifty-inch plasma and listened as the man professed his undying love for Cassandra Worthington, the spoiled brat heiress who everyone loved to hate. He told her he needed her and would move heaven and earth to be with her. His words floated from the top-of-the-line surround sound speakers and into Robyn’s ears. The familiarity made her shiver.

The scene switched and pulled her from a deep memory. She snapped back to reality. How and when had Derek Woodsen started acting? Last she’d known, he worked for a landscaping company in the same town she lived in–the same town where they’d both grown up. Her mother usually knew all the local gossip and passed it on to her whether she cared to know or not. How did her mother not know any of this? When had Derek left Springville? She could have sworn she’d seen him recently. Was this his first acting job?

And where did those washboard abs come from? He hadn’t had those in high school.

Robyn grabbed the phone and dialed Anna’s number. Before her best friend could even utter a simple “Hello,” she blurted, “Oh my God! You have to turn on channel seven!”

“Robyn, is that you?” Anna asked as a baby’s gurgles floated from the earpiece.

“Yes! Turn it on now!”

“Okay, okay.”

The TV clicked on, then the sound of channels flipping by.

“And? What’s so important about this?” Anna asked once her set rested on one channel.

“Now you have to wait. The scene is over.”

After a few minutes of casual chit-chat, Derek came back on the screen.

“Okay, this is it,” Robyn said.

“Yeah, and?” Anna asked sarcastically. “Half-naked guy, half-naked girl. I know you love this stuff, but what’s the big deal?”

“Look closer. Doesn’t that guy look familiar?”

The line went quiet, then a gasp.

“Oh my God! You’ve got to be kidding me! The bastard was never that hot in high school! When the hell’d this happen?”

“I don’t know. Usually my mother knows this stuff.”

“It’s kinda weird, huh?”

“I guess. I don’t know.”

“Your ex-boyfriend, well, no, that’s too nice. Your ex-shithead is on TV–practically naked.

“So how’s baby Amelia today?”

“Nice change in topic. She’s good–slept six hours last night.”

“Only two months old. That’s really great.”

“I’m hoping by three months she’ll double that.”

Anna’s baby girl began wailing.

“I better go. Smells like we have a problem here.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

Robyn set the phone down and watched the last scene of the show–Derek’s character took a gold wedding band out of his pocket and threw it into the trash. She’d love to know what would happen next. Should she record it? Probably wasn’t a great idea to watch her ex half-naked on a regular basis. But it wasn’t really Derek she was watching. It was Cameron Calder, a random guy from Cedar Valley.

Before shutting off the TV, she set it to record each day indefinitely.

* * * *

“Robyn, dear?” her mother called to her while setting the table for their traditional Sunday dinner. She placed the last fork in its proper spot, then walked to the kitchen expecting to be handed a stack of plates. Instead, her mother gave her a full-color flyer. “I saw this tacked up on the community board at the market.”

In big bold letters it stated: Welcome home, Derek Woodsen!

Underneath was Derek’s head shot, complete with blinding white teeth and those piercing blue eyes that bore into her soul. She suddenly felt a little wobbly.

“Remember when you kids were boyfriend and girlfriend?” Robyn’s mother asked. “He practically lived here! But I didn’t mind. Such a little cutie he was! And so sweet. He was always sending you flowers and writing poems.” She reached for a stack of linen napkins and handed them to Robyn. “I was even smitten by him, but your father sure wasn’t as trusting.” She gave a hearty laugh. “Remember that one day–he’d dragged Derek over to his antique Civil War pistol collection, displayed on the living room wall. The poor boy shook in his sneakers when he asked if they still worked. I can still picture that devilish grin on your father’s face when he answered, ‘Yes!’”

Robyn finished setting the table and returned to the kitchen, hoping the Derek conversation had ended.

“Did you know he’s on that show?” No such luck. “The one you used to watch.” Her mother paused to stir a pot on the stovetop. “I just found out the other day. Gloria down at the Beauty Stop told me Derek’s mother has been coming in regularly and having her nails done and even having her whole face waxed. I can’t understand why anyone would pay someone to do that, but I suppose when your son’s an actor. I hear all she does now is brag about him being on TV and how much money he gives her.”

Robyn thought of Mrs. Woodsen and the devastation on her face the day of her husband’s funeral. She and Derek had been long broken up by that point. But as painful as it was to face him–the memory of their horrible breakup smacking her in the face–she’d pushed it aside and supported the woman who had treated her like a daughter. With her soon-to-be husband on her arm, she had given her condolences to Derek, but not another word after. He’d moved back to Springville after the funeral, giving up his big football scholarship. His mother needed her only boy to take care of her.

She had seen Derek on occasion, in the pharmacy or somewhere else around town, never speaking and usually avoiding eye contact.

“Did you read here?” Robyn’s mother poked her finger at the flyer, jolting her back to reality.

“There’s going to be a big party at the Legion celebrating Derek’s Soap Opera Award.”

“He won an award already?”

“Yeah. Best New Man or something like that.” She hurried back to the oven to check her roast chicken. While she basted the bird, she added, “You should go to that party.”

“No, I couldn’t. I haven’t talked to him in years.” And aside from a soft “I’m sorry” at his father’s funeral, her last words to him included, “I hate you!” and “You ruined my life!” As far as her parents knew, the teen lovebirds had simply grown apart after going away to separate colleges.

“So what! I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

“Who would love to see you?” Robyn’s husband, Grant, entered the room behind her, eyes fixed on his Blackberry.

“Oh, no one. It’s nothing,” she answered. His gaze still focused on the tiny screen. She handed him a beer, most likely the reason for his trip into the kitchen. Little else would pull him away from the football game on TV.

“Robyn’s boyfriend from high school is a big-time TV actor now. There’s going to be a party for him next weekend.”

Grant thumbed around on his phone, then looked up briefly. “You going?” Nothing kept him from his Blackberry.

“No. There’s no reason for me to go.” Robyn immediately left the room as her heart starting beating a bit erratically. She didn’t want to see Derek. She saw him each day on TV. That was enough. She didn’t need to see him in person.