June’s second evening was on Wednesday. Nina had offered a midweek slot, and June had chosen a neglected comedy about a couple who separated, failed to become sophisticated about it and eventually learned to be less cruel.
She expected fewer people than the first time. Fourteen came, plus Eli. For ten minutes that felt like enough.
Then she heard a woman in the foyer ask whether Ruby was coming.
“Not tonight,” June said.
The woman glanced at Eli. He was standing beside the programme stand, waiting for June to finish welcoming people.
“So it’s you two now?”
June’s hand tightened on the stack of programmes. “He’s here for the film.”
“Right.” The woman smiled at her friend. “For the film.”
June gave them programmes and went into the small screen. Eli followed after the others.
She tried to remember the first thing she intended to say. It was written down this time. The paper felt like proof she could manage, not help in managing.
At the front she thanked them for coming. Two people in the back kept whispering. She waited until they stopped.
“Tonight’s couple spend much of the film failing to say something simple,” she began. “It’s funnier than it sounds.”
“Do you know Ruby?” a man asked.
June looked up. He wasn’t raising a hand. He sat in the middle, with his jacket over the next chair.
“Yes.”
“Has she said anything about you going out with that bloke?”
Eli shifted near the aisle. June looked down at her notes, then put them on the empty chair beside her.
“I’m not answering questions about my private life. I’m introducing a film.”
The man gave a little laugh. “It’s only a question.”
Nobody else laughed. That made the quiet worse.
“That’s my answer,” June said.
The two women from the foyer stood up. One said, “Well, that’s that, then,” not loudly, but enough for June to hear. They began moving past the people in their row.
The man collected his jacket. Another person near the back got up after him, though June couldn’t tell whether they had arrived together. The door opened and closed, then opened again.
Three more people followed them out, one with the programme folded in his pocket. June couldn’t tell whether they had expected the same answers or simply no longer wanted to be in the room.
She had never imagined people leaving while she stood at the front waiting to speak. She had imagined a bad joke. She had imagined silence. She hadn’t prepared for the sound of the door making the choice for them.
Eli came down the aisle.
“June,” he said quietly. “We can stop. I’ll tell Nina. Come outside for a minute.”
She looked at him. He held out his hand. She wanted to take it. She wanted to leave before somebody else stood up.
Behind him, an older couple were looking at their programmes. A woman alone in the second row was looking at June, waiting. There were still people here.
“No,” June said.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I want to show them the film.”
“Nina can start it.”
“I want to do the evening.”
Eli glanced at the remaining audience. His hand lowered.
“All right,” he said.
“Please sit down.”
He did. June looked at the woman in the second row.
“I’m sorry,” she began, then stopped. “I’ll start again.”
The woman nodded.
June picked up her notes but didn’t read the opening. She told them about first seeing the film when she was eighteen and thinking the couple were very grown up. She told them she had watched it again and realized they were both behaving like children. This was why she liked it better now.
She lost her place once. Nobody tried to fill it. She looked at the notes, found the sentence she wanted, and kept going.
When she finished, the older woman clapped. A few others joined in. It was a small sound. June took her seat beside Eli.
He didn’t try to hold her hand. She was glad. She needed to watch the screen.
The film took time to reach her. For the first twenty minutes she kept thinking of the foyer women. Then the husband in the film made an apology so self-important that his wife fell asleep halfway through it, and somebody laughed. June laughed too, weakly at first. The next scene was better. She stopped waiting for the door.
When the lights came up, seven people remained apart from Eli. Nina opened the side door and looked at June. June nodded once.
The conversation was slow. She asked whether the couple should have reconciled; nobody answered for several seconds. Then the older man said they would probably do all the same things again.
“Did you want them to?” June asked.
“No. I wanted them to have another chance.”
His wife turned to him. “They could have another chance with other people.”
“Not in ninety minutes.”
The woman in the second row smiled. “I’d have liked to see her go dancing with somebody she wasn’t married to.”
June asked which character she’d choose. The conversation moved. It wasn’t lively in the way her first film evening had been, but it became real. Eli listened until June invited him to disagree. Then he did, and she found herself able to answer without feeling she was being watched for another reason.
Afterwards, the woman from the second row came to her in the foyer.
“I didn’t know the film,” she said. “I enjoyed it.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you know the one about the dance hall? Not the famous one. The older one.”
She described a scene June vaguely remembered. June wrote the title on the back of her notes once they had found it together.
When the woman left, Eli came over.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
June sat on the bench. “You didn’t ask the question.”
“I meant for trying to stop you.”
She looked at him. He sat at the other end, leaving her room.
“I wanted to get you out of it,” he said.
“I know.”
“I didn’t think about the people who stayed.”
June let her head rest against the wall. She was exhausted. She had enjoyed pieces of the evening. She hated that both things had happened in the same room.
Nina came down with her bag. June stood to speak to her before she left.
“I want the next invitation to name the film first,” she said. “A little less of me. More about what we’re watching.”
“We can do that.”
“And I want to show this one.” June held out the title the woman had given her.
Nina read it. “Good choice.”
“I haven’t seen all of it.”
“Then you’ve got something to do tomorrow.”
June smiled. Outside, she took Eli’s hand only after they had crossed the road. He waited for her to choose which way they would walk.