Imagine sitting across the table from someone you once loved. Two years have passed, and you’ve both changed. There are so many things you never said, questions you never asked, and perhaps a part of you is still wondering: ‘what if?’

That’s exactly where we find Jada and Dallas in Douglas Lyons’ Table 17. Two years after their breakup, they’re sitting across from each other once again, about to find out what happens when you put all that chemistry, history, hurt, and unfinished business back on the table.

And lucky for us all, there is an empty seat or two nearby!

This fall, Portland Playhouse transforms its theatre space into Bianca’s, the restaurant where Jada & Dallas’ reunion unfolds. Tyharra Cozier and Marcus Lattimore step into the roles of the former lovers, with Tyler Andrew Jones rounding out the 3-person cast as the hilarious restaurant server, plus other roles.

The setup for this regional premiere at Portland Playhouse is delicious in its intimacy: you’re not peering into a theatre from the safety and distance of a traditional theatre seat (unless you really want to – there are 11 of those available for each performance). You’re in the actors’ world, close enough to feel like another Bianca’s diner, trying very hard not to listen to the increasingly juicy conversation happening at the next table.

And there is plenty to listen to.

Table 17 jumps between past and present, making us fall for Jada and Dallas even as we discover how they fell apart. There’s music, there’s flirting, there are big laughs and painful truths, and even a few moments of awkward silence after someone says the one thing they shouldn't have.

Charles Grant, the production’s director, knew almost immediately that he wanted in. “When I first read Table 17, it was a page turner,” he says. “It quickly breaks the fourth wall and takes us on a journey filled with music, comedy, passion, surprises, truth, and hope.”

And hope matters here, because for all its questions about breakups and bad timing, Table 17 is joyfully, unapologetically interested in Black love.

Playwright Lyons grew up on Black rom-coms, but hadn’t seen the genre given the same space on stage. So he wrote one – not a story where Blackness automatically means trauma, but a rom-com: Black people flirting, Black people laughing, Black people being hilarious, complicated, and human. Black people falling in love, breaking each other's hearts, and daring to wonder if there might still be something to come back to.

“Centring Black love and Black joy is always a revolutionary act,” Lyons says. For him, one of the greatest pleasures of Table 17 has been watching people of different backgrounds and identities recognize pieces of themselves in Jada and Dallas’ story.

Because, of course, the specifics of the story belong to Jada and Dallas, but the ‘what if’? That belongs to almost everybody. Maybe yours is an ex. Maybe it's the person sitting next to you at the show; maybe it is the person you loved fiercely at a time in your life you weren't ready for a love like that. Maybe the person you’re thinking about isn’t a romantic partner at all.

Grant finds himself thinking about soulmates while working on the production: “...whether they exist, what makes one, and whether we’re allowed more than one in a lifetime. Table 17,” he says, “is ultimately interested in love in all its forms: romantic love, friendship, the kindness of strangers, and the love we learn to extend to ourselves.”

So yes, come to Bianca’s to watch Jada and Dallas lay it all out on the table. Come for the chemistry, the comedy, the music, the romance, and the thrill of watching something gloriously messy unfold. But, Grant hopes you’ll leave wanting to make a few decisions of your own:

“Call them. Go on a date. Dance wildly. Embarrass yourself. Laugh out loud. Love deeply, honestly, and with abandon.”

Sounds like a pretty great night at the theatre to us.

Table 17, by Douglas Lyons, directed by Charles Grant, runs September 30 - November 1, 2026, at Portland Playhouse.

Tickets available at portlandplayhouse.org