Love Finds You in Camelot, Tennessee

by Janice Hanna

  “Bravo!”

  Steve felt his cheeks warm in embarrassment as Eula Mae shouted her praises from the piano.

  “I knew it! I knew you two would blend like tea and honey.”

  “W–what?” Steve shook his head, hoping he could pull himself back to the present. Looking into Amy’s twinkling eyes, he found it more than a little difficult. The two of them stood in silence for a moment, but his heart was nearly thumping out of his chest. He tried to make sense out of what had just happened but couldn’t.

  Only one thing was crystal clear. They’d sung their first duet. Well, the first since that play in the seventh grade where he’d been forced to dress up like John Smith and sing to the fair Pocahontas. He smiled, remembering how out of place Amy looked in that Indian costume with her long blond hair…and yet how beautiful. Almost as beautiful as she looked today. Back then, a strange tightness in his chest, coupled with an inability to breathe correctly, had almost made him bow out of the performance at the last minute. That same feeling returned now, making him wonder if he might be ill. Strange. He hadn’t noticed till just this moment. Did he have a fever? And what was up with the constricted feeling in his throat? Maybe he was coming down with something.

  The cheers startled him back to reality. Steve tugged at his collar as he felt a warm sensation creep up his neck and into his cheeks. Now what? Apparently they’d lost Pete. And it appeared they’d lost control of the audition too.

  Amy gave him a wild-eyed look. “I—I think we need to take a break.” She shot across the stage but looked back at him for a moment with her cheeks pink as Lucy Cramden’s lipstick. Glancing out at the audience, Amy hollered, “Take five, everyone. Then we’ll pick up where we left off.”

  “Pick up where we left off, eh?” Eula Mae’s eyebrows wiggled playfully. “I’d daresay, that will be exciting.”

  Steve did his best to hide the smile that threatened to erupt as a peaceful feeling settled over him like the early morning fog over the bluff. What he wanted to do was run after Amy and reiterate the words to the song in person with just the two of them listening. He wanted to tell her just what he’d been thinking and feeling over the past few months. How thrilled he’d been when she came back home from Knoxville. How he looked forward to seeing her every day at work. How, in spite of her crazy ideas, he cherished every word she’d ever spoken.

  Still, every time he thought about opening up and sharing his thoughts, fear gripped him. Would he ever get past this crazy shyness? C’mon, Steve. Are you a man or a mouse?

  He looked at the audience and shrugged. Until he caught a glimpse of Fiona, leaping from Lucy Cramden’s hands directly into Blossom’s over-the-top hairdo. The unsuspecting beautician let out a scream as her auburn tresses came unwound. She leaped from her seat and ran squealing toward the back of the auditorium.

  From there, the ferret leaped onto the floor and began to travel up the aisle. Just as she reached the stage, Woody reached down and caught her in his right hand. He held up the little mongrel and shouted, “I’ve caught you, you vixen! You shall torment the kingdom no more! Tonight Merlin will boil you up in a pot of stew and feed you to the king’s enemies!”

  This, of course, caused Lucy Cramden to go into a panic. She raced toward Woody, grabbed Fiona, and began shouting a few lines that weren’t exactly in the script. At this point, Pete reappeared and bounded down the aisle to calm Lucy. Not that she noticed. No, she took to chasing Woody, who ran—if one could call it running—from one side of the sanctuary to the other.

  Steve watched it all, laughter bubbling up in his midsection. What a strange turn of events. Oh, what a wonderful, chaotic mess. Yep. Just another day in Camelot.

  Chapter Five

  Acting is happy agony.

  SIR ALEC GUINNESS

  Amy paced the small bathroom, trying to make sense of what had just happened on the church’s stage. Forget the fact that she’d sung in front of people. That wasn’t such a big deal. Okay, well, maybe it was, considering the fact that she’d never done it before. Not as an adult, anyway. But singing with Steve? Hearing their voices blend in miraculous harmony? Memorizing the magical look in his eyes as he’d sung? She’d never experienced such a perfect moment in all of her twenty-nine years. Oh, but how she wanted to experience it again—and again. Not necessarily in front of an audience, of course, but gazing into his eyes? Hearing words of love sung directly to her? A girl could get used to that, for sure.

  Amy could hardly stop trembling as she reflected on it all and had to wonder why. Actually, she did know why. Clearly, her feelings for him went far beyond what she’d ever allowed herself to think before. As he’d sung those words, that he would never leave her, in front of the crowd, she realized the truth.

  I’m crazy about him…but I can’t tell him.

  Only, now she couldn’t not tell him. Right?

  But how? And when? Her mind reeled as she considered the possibilities. Maybe after the auditions she could bring it up. No—he had a meeting. Maybe tomorrow morning when they met for breakfast to finalize the cast list. Sure, that would be just the right time. Except that everyone else at the local diner might overhear and the rumor mill would get started. That would never do. Could two city employees date? Hmm. She’d never thought about that before. Would they be breaking some kind of rule? Did he even want to date her?

  Amy’s emotions plummeted. Maybe he didn’t feel the same way. Maybe he would find this all laughable. Or worse—pitiable.

  “Amy, you okay in there?” Eula Mae’s shaky voice rang out, startling Amy back to reality. “It’s been more than five minutes.”

  “Oh?” She ducked into a stall as the elderly woman entered the bathroom.

  “Yes, I was getting worried. You’re not gonna chicken out on us, are you?”

  “Chicken out?” Amy spoke from behind the closed door. “I don’t have a clue what you mean.”

  “Mm-hmm. Anyway, half the town is still out there, waiting to audition, including your father. And Lucy Cramden. She’s fit to be tied that this is taking so long. So is Gwen.”

  “Of course she is.”

  “Chuck Manly just called the church office,” Eula Mae continued. “He’s not feeling well but wants you to hold a spot for him, if you can.”

  “Ah.” Amy made a point to flush the toilet and then walked out of the stall. As she did, Caroline entered the bathroom. Amy washed her hands, glancing in the mirror at her reflection. “Ugh. Why didn’t someone tell me my hair was such a mess?”

  “Your hair is perfect.” Caroline drew near and the two of them stood side by side, staring into the mirror. “He thinks you’re beautiful, you know.”

  “W–who?” Amy turned to face her. “Chuck Manly?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You know who.” Caroline grinned and slipped her arm around Amy’s waist, giving her a little squeeze. “Steve has always been nuts about you. Do you know how many times his mother and I talked about it over the years? She always knew it.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. And when she married Bob and moved away to Memphis, she made me promise I’d keep praying for the two of you. So I have a vested interest in your relationship as the future groom’s mother’s best friend.”

  “Wow. Now we’re in wedding planning mode. That’s quite a jump.” Eula Mae turned toward the door. “Not that we have time to be planning a wedding today. C’mon, girlie. We’ve got a show to cast. Let’s get to it.” The bathroom door closed behind her and Caroline, but Amy couldn’t seem to move. Or breathe. So, others had noticed…even prayed that she and Steve would one day marry. Crazy.

  She drew in a few deep breaths as she made her way back to the sanctuary. The minute she saw Steve, a butterfly farm sprang to life in her stomach. For a minute, she thought she might be ill. Drawing in a deep breath, Amy turned her focus to those left sitting in the auditorium. Hmm. Probably ten or twelve more people still to audition, including her father and Lucy. And Gwen, who looked about as sour as a
lemon drop.

  Her father drew near, a concerned look in his eyes. “You okay, honey? You don’t seem to be yourself.”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” Amy offered a weak smile and patted his arm. Steve gave her a curious look. She quickly took her seat and motioned for Woody to do the same. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how she looked at it—Steve took the seat on her left. Amy reached into the stack of audition forms, ready to get this show back on the road.

  Is there some reason my palms are sweating?

  She brushed them against her jeans and kept going, putting on her most professional voice, anxious to get this next one over with. “Gwen, it’s your turn.”

  Gwen touched up her lipstick and then approached the stage, brushing her long blond hair behind her shoulders. Without using a script, she started quoting Guinevere’s lines, beautifully memorized…but poorly acted. Over-the-top in every conceivable way. And as she sang the words to “The Simple Joys of Maidenhood,” the notes were right—mostly, anyway—but the overall presentation was not. Something about her performance simply didn’t ring true. As she ended, Gwen flashed Amy a look of “See? I told you I’m the best” and then marched off the stage, flipping her hair once more.

  Instead of focusing on her feelings, Amy decided to keep things moving. “Pastor Crane,” she called out, reaching for the next audition form. “It’s your turn.”

  He came forward with his expectant wife, Natalie, in tow. “Natalie’s here to help me out,” he said. “We came up with a new twist on one of the scenes in the show.”

  “Sure. Of course.”

  Amy settled back in her seat as the couple proceeded to act out the scene where Guinevere was burned at the stake. Interesting. Pastor Crane did a fine job of playing the henchman. Definitely a role he could handle in the production. But Natalie looked a bit odd in her role, being six months pregnant and all.

  When they finished, Natalie looked at Amy with a grin. “I hope you realize I just did this for him. I can’t really participate in the show right now.” She rubbed her tummy and smiled. “I have my own little production going on.”

  “Of course.” Amy chuckled. “But we’ll miss you, Natalie. You have the best singing voice in town.”

  “Why, thank you.” The woman’s cheeks flushed pink. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s said all day. But I might have to argue the point. You have a mighty fine voice, yourself.”

  “Sure does,” Eula Mae chimed in.

  “Thanks.” Embarrassment washed over Amy. She turned her attention to the audition process. Next up were Jimmy and Timmy Billingsley, local twin boys, who auditioned to be knights in shining armor. They weren’t bad, though Jimmy’s acne would likely challenge Blossom as a makeup artist. Amy might have to call in someone more heavy-handed with the cosmetics, say, Lucy Cramden. Still, the teens were willing…and able. Amy couldn’t argue with that. And they seemed capable of pulling off the part.

  “Would you boys like to read for Lancelot?” Woody peered over his glasses at them.

  Timmy’s eyes widened. “Can’t carry a note in a bucket, sir.”

  “Me neither,” Jimmy echoed, before shrugging.

  “Fine.” Woody waved them off the stage. “No idea what we’re gonna do about that Lancelot role.”

  “Me either,” Amy whispered in response. “But we’ll figure it out.” She reached for the stack of audition forms and came up with her father’s. “Dad?” She turned and gave him an encouraging smile. “Your turn.”

  “Praise the Lord and pass the sword!” He reached into his belt and pulled out his own version of Excalibur. Amy had seen the sword before. Dozens of times, in fact. He used it every time he told one of his Camelot tales. Only, now he apparently planned to use it on stage.

  “What role would you like to try out for, Charlie?” Woody asked.

  “Is there any doubt?” He entered the stage, moving so quickly that he almost tripped. “Arthur, of course. It’s a lifelong dream of mine to play the great king.” His face radiated pure joy at this proclamation.

  “Ah.” Amy swallowed hard, trying to imagine how she might handle this. She knew from previous experience that her father couldn’t sing to save his life. Still, his storytelling skills were great.

  Help me out here, Lord. Please!

  Eula Mae began to bang out the intro for “I Wonder What the King Is Doing Tonight,” and Amy’s father squared his shoulders as he began to sing. As Amy suspected, his vocal abilities were anything but good. Still, he gave it the old college try…in several keys…none of them the key that Eula Mae happened to be playing in. She finally halted the music and turned to him with a grunt.

  “Aw, look,” he said, looking deflated, “I know I can’t sing. But maybe we can dub my voice.”

  “Dub your voice?” Amy shook her head.

  “Well, sure. That’s what happened in the movie version. Franco Nero played Lancelot, but he wasn’t a singer—so they dubbed his voice.”

  Confusion registered in Woody’s eyes. “We’re not going to snub you because of your voice, Charlie,” he said. “But we do have to take it into consideration. Arthur has to sing. No way around that.”

  “He didn’t say snub, Woody,” Amy explained. “He said…aw, never mind.”

  “Well, how about this, then.” Amy’s father began a rousing rendition of “Knights of the Round Table” from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, making quite a show of things. Woody chuckled and then began to clap along. So did Steve, for that matter. Before long, they were all quoting lines from the movie, one after the other.

  Amy drew in a breath and waited until they finished, wondering if she’d ever be able to take control of the audition again.

  “Dad, that was…great. But still…”

  “Not convinced?” The edges of his lips curled down. “I understand.”

  She wasn’t sure he did, but she also wasn’t sure what she could do about it. Honestly, if things didn’t turn around soon, she’d just as soon walk out of here and forget this whole thing. Why, oh why, had she come up with the idea to do a musical in the first place? What was she thinking? Oh yes. She was thinking that, perhaps, she could save her town from ruin.

  She gave her father another glance, and an idea registered. Perhaps he could play King Pellinore, Arthur’s friend. Yes, he would be perfect for that part. And there was no singing required. Perfect! Hopefully the idea would settle well with him.

  At this point—with no introduction—Lucy Cramden entered the stage, still dressed in her medieval gown and now carrying Fiona. Her eyelashes nearly took to flight, fluttering up a storm. “It’s my turn! Oh, I can hardly wait.”

  “O–oh?” Amy fought to keep her gaze off the low-cut dress. She distracted herself by scrambling for Lucy’s audition form.

  “If you’re casting Charlie as Arthur, let me try out for Guinevere.” A girlish giggle erupted. “Anything I can do to share the stage with such a talented actor.” She shifted her attention once more to Amy’s father.

  Amy sighed. “Turn to page twenty-seven of the audition script and read Guinevere’s monologue.”

  “Face us, please,” Woody said. “I need to hear you.”

  If he managed to keep his gaze on Lucy’s lips, Amy give him a gold star. Thankfully, he turned his attention to the audition form, glancing up only on occasion.

  Lucy did as Amy suggested but stumbled over the words. She tried again but botched it once more. Her giggles became contagious, and before long several others in the audience were laughing. Hopefully with her, not at her. Fortunately, her singing audition went better. Turned out her pitch was pretty good.

  “Maybe I could be one of the fair maidens,” Lucy said at last. Eyeing Amy’s father, she added, “But only if you pair me up with just the right knight for the lusty-month-of-May scene.”

  Amy’s dad shifted his gaze to the floor, muttered something about the weather, then shot out the door at the back of the sanctuary. Who could blame him? If Amy had her way, s
he’d run out the back door too. In the meantime, she’d just pretend she’d dreamed all this.

  Her eyes misted over, and she swiped them with the back of her hand, determined to keep going.

  “There’s no crying in theater, kid,” Steve whispered from the seat to her left.

  “I thought that was baseball,” she whispered in response.

  “That too.” He flashed that boyish smile and then winked. Her heartbeat skipped a beat.

  Stay focused. Stay focused.

  “Why are we talking about baseball?” Woody turned to them, the wrinkles in his brow deepening. “Someone hit a home run? Is that why your dad took off so fast?”

  “Um, no.” She sighed. “I think he had an emergency of some sort.”

  Steve buried a laugh that ended up sounding more like a snort.

  “Are you done with me?” Lucy asked. “Because if you are, Fiona wants to audition.” She lifted the ferret, showing off a frilly pink outfit. “She dressed for the occasion.”

  “What part, exactly, is she auditioning for?” Amy asked.

  “I felt sure Guinevere would need a pet.” Lucy cradled Fiona near her cheek. “And who better to play the part?”

  “I’ll think about that.” Amy offered what she hoped would look like an encouraging smile, and Lucy nodded. Then she took off toward the back of the auditorium, muttering something about finding Amy’s father.

  With Lucy gone, Amy and Steve turned their attentions to the only auditioner left in the room, Steve’s older brother, Darrell.

  “What’s it gonna be, Darrell?” Steve asked.

  “Shoot, I don’t care.” Darrell pulled off his baseball cap and shrugged. He stuffed the cap in his back pocket and ambled toward the stage, the heels of his cowboy boots clicking against the floor. “Whatever you think, as long as I don’t have to sing. I couldn’t sing my way out of a paper bag.”