Set the Stage

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Set the Stage Page 17

by Karis Walsh


  “Here’s a tough one,” Emilie said, calling on her acting skills to keep her voice happy and steady, with no quavering. She was determined to make the most of their time together, without allowing darkness to creep in. “A director wants you to design a set for his steampunk version of King Lear. What do you choose?”

  Arden laughed at the odd juxtaposition of genre and play, and Emilie felt a sense of triumph for making her smile. “Steampunk King Lear? Hasn’t that been done to death? Well, I guess I’d start with the factory piece over there, which is from a stage version of Great Expectations I saw a few years ago…”

  Emilie moved closer and took Arden’s hand, intertwining their fingers as the game continued.

  *****

  Arden would have liked to stay in the storage room for another several hours, but eventually she started to notice the rumbling of hunger in her empty stomach. Emilie must have been starving, too, although she never once complained or suggested they leave.

  “Ready for dinner?” Arden asked, pulling Emilie closer to her. She had loved their game, partly because it had been fun to make up increasingly bizarre play staging requirements for each other, and mostly because she was impressed with Emilie’s quick mind and creative way of thinking. She wrapped her arms around Emilie’s waist and leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. She had nearly plummeted too far when Emilie mentioned staying for another season to play Lady Macbeth. Luckily, Emilie had managed to pull her back to the present and keep her from running out the door and away from this relationship. It wasn’t a stretch to believe that the role might be offered to her and that she might decide to stay for another year, but it still wouldn’t be forever. It would only make it harder for Arden to say good-bye.

  Emilie sighed and slid her palms around Arden’s neck until her hands were clasped behind Arden’s head. Emilie’s wrists were a welcome weight on Arden’s shoulders, and she felt complete. Solid and grounded.

  “I’m hungry,” Emilie said, her voice soft and close, her breath caressing Arden as she spoke. “But we can stay as long as you want.”

  “I’ll have plenty of chances to come back here next year, I guess,” Arden said. “Although it won’t be nearly as much fun without you and your crazy ideas.”

  Emilie laughed, moving her head back and looking Arden in the eyes. “I think Romeo and Juliet set at an amusement park is a brilliant concept. The Capulets and Montagues can have competing concession stands, and instead of dueling, they’ll compete against each other at that arcade game with the balloons.” She closed the small distance between them and kissed Arden. “Really, you should pitch it to one of the directors. And be sure to thank me when you win your Tony.”

  “I’ll pitch it if you promise to play Juliet, the Bearded Lady.”

  They shifted apart and left the room. Arden kept hold of Emilie’s hand and kept walking, even though she was tempted to remain in this wonderful space where they had privacy and where she felt connected to Emilie.

  The restaurant was only a few blocks away from the festival campus. The location was prime, with three theaters that were often full of tourists close by, but the décor was uninspired, with red and gold accents barely drawing attention away from the bland beiges and browns of the carpet, the tables, and the walls. The odd assortment of knickknacks somehow stopped short of being kitschy and cute, and instead looked tacky.

  They were seated quickly since they had arrived after the night’s plays had started. The streets and restaurants were crowded before and after the shows, and strangely quiet during them, and only three other tables were occupied. Emilie sat across from Arden and surveyed the other diners.

  “They seem fine,” she said, turning her attention to the laminated menu. “I guess it’s safe to eat here.”

  “Unless they use a slow-acting poison.” Arden moved her feet so they were in contact with Emilie’s under the table.

  They ordered their dinner and chatted while they waited for their food. Arden tried to give her full attention to the conversation, but her mind felt detached, as if she was watching the table from a distance. They talked easily, whether it was about serious topics like Em’s acting or Arden’s new job, or silly ones. Arden knew she was going to have a breaking point with Emilie. A moment when she couldn’t let the relationship go further because it would be too hard to let go. She had no idea when it would hit her, but it was always there, on the edge of her thoughts.

  “Do you want to try some of mine?” Emilie asked as soon as their meals had been delivered. She held a forkful of cashew chicken toward Arden.

  “You haven’t even tasted it yet. Are you using me as a guinea pig?” Arden laughed and twisted some pad Thai noodles around her fork.

  “Maybe.” Emilie ate the bite of food she had tried to give Arden. “Hmm. It seems okay.”

  Arden wanted to play along, but she suddenly didn’t feel like joking. “I can’t do this forever, Em.”

  Emilie frowned at her plate. “I know. It’s not great. Not the worst I’ve ever had, but—”

  “Not eating here,” Arden said, laughing in spite of herself. “Us.”

  “Oh.”

  The single word, spoken quietly, lingered between them for a few moments.

  “I hated it when you walked away the other day, Emilie. And then today, you came back and I was so relieved just to be near you again. I just…I don’t want to stop being with you, but someday I might have to end things before I lose myself completely.”

  “But not right now?” Emilie’s eyes were red, as if she was fighting not to cry, but there was a hopeful smile on her face.

  Arden shook her head. “Not right now.”

  Emilie nodded and brushed her thumbs under her eyes. Arden wanted to go over and sit next to her, but she stayed where she was and gave them both a little time to pull themselves together.

  “I can’t tell you what will happen to me tomorrow, let alone next year,” Emilie said. “I haven’t had a consistent day since I got to Ashland. One day I’m doing all right, and the next I’m giving the worst performance of my life, and then I’m mediocre and barely good enough to keep the part for another week. I don’t know whether I’ll make something of myself this season or not do well enough to get any offers in the future.”

  She reached across the table and grasped Arden’s hand. “I have to keep trying, though. I owe myself this year. I want you to be part of it, but I understand that the unpredictability is hard on you. If you need to walk away from us, I’ll let you go. But until then…”

  Until then, Arden could let herself be close to Emilie, knowing they both were walking into this with their eyes open.

  She gave Emilie’s hand a squeeze, and then let go and started to eat again.

  “I have a ticket for tomorrow night’s performance,” Emilie said. “Do you want to go? Or are you sick of seeing the play?”

  “I’d love to,” Arden said, relieved at the change in subject. “I like seeing the plays more than once, even though I’d go bankrupt if I did that every season. I was planning to try to get a seat tomorrow, though.”

  Emilie stabbed at a slice of carrot with an annoyed expression on her face. “Yeah. You probably wouldn’t have had any trouble getting in, since people are still canceling. Not as much as the first night, but still…it’s bad for the ego.”

  Arden smiled. “Give it another week or two, and everyone will have forgotten Scorpio, or Leo, or Gemini, or whatever her name was. You’ll be the one they want to see.”

  Emilie laughed. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to tell Capricorn you said that the next time I see her. Now, are you sure you don’t want to try my—”

  Emilie went through an elaborate gagging and choking scene before slumping forward on the table, while Arden calmly took a drink of her beer and then went back to eating.

  “Aren’t you going to rescue me?” Emilie asked, her head resting on her arm and her voice muffled.

  “I’ll give you mouth-to-mouth later,” Arden
said, reaching across the table and spearing a piece of chicken with her fork.

  Emilie sat up and flipped her hair off her face. “I look forward to it,” she said, giving Arden a grin and going back to her meal.

  Arden made good on her promise an hour later, when she and Emilie said good night near the park entrance. A stream of people were leaving the theaters and heading back to their hotels or into town, and Arden pulled Emilie off the path and behind a huge oak tree. She rested her palms against the trunk on either side of Emilie’s head and leaned forward to kiss her.

  The voices and laughter coming from the crowds faded into the background as Arden’s lips moved over Emilie’s, and she moved willingly when Emilie put her hands on Arden’s lower back and pulled her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. She softly bit Emilie’s lower lip and felt a shiver run through her.

  Arden kissed Emilie’s cheek and then her forehead before pushing away from the tree and Em’s embrace. She felt tired all of a sudden, worn out from the ups and downs of the day. The morning had been hell, but the date with Emilie had been perfect, aside from the uncertainty about their future.

  Emilie trailed her fingertips over Arden’s face and neck. “I should get home and get some sleep,” she said, as if she had been able to read Arden’s weariness through her touch and was coming up with an excuse to leave. “Early rehearsal tomorrow.”

  Arden nodded. “I have an early morning, too. But I’ll see you in the evening?”

  “Maybe we can get a late dinner after the play.” Emilie gave her another kiss and walked toward the stairs. She looked back over her shoulder once, with a happier smile on her face than Arden had seen so far. She was tempted to call her back, to keep kissing her, to make the night last forever, but she wasn’t ready. Twenty-four hours ago, she’d thought Emilie was out of her life for good. She needed more time to process the change.

  She watched until Emilie was out of sight, and then turned and started for home.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Emilie woke up the next morning before her alarm went off. She had left her blinds open, and the rising sun eased her gently awake. Much better than the jarring buzz of her clock. She stretched and sat up, feeling a goofy grin spread across her face as she remembered the night before.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this relaxed and happy in the morning. No twists of tension in her belly because she had to face the company director, or a distressing rehearsal, or a potentially disastrous performance. They were all still there, of course, lurking in the corners of the room and waiting to pounce, but for the moment Arden had banished them all.

  She took a long shower since she was up early enough and didn’t have to rush for once. She kept her hair knotted and out of the water. Her skin felt charged today, tingling from the memory of Arden’s touch and from the anticipation of even more contact tonight. The thought of massaging shampoo into her hair and feeling her fingers moving along her scalp sounded wonderful to Emilie, but she wouldn’t wash it until after tonight’s performance. She wasn’t going to subject herself to another diatribe from Velda about the ghastly consequences of too-clean hair on a wig-wearing day.

  Emilie slipped into a silk robe and sat at the kitchen counter eating instant oatmeal and doing a crossword puzzle. She wanted to go to the park and talk to Arden before her rehearsal, but they each needed to focus on their day before they had a night together. Arden was working and putting up the last of her stages. And Emilie had to refocus on Cassella. She doubted whether her chirpily good mood was the right mind-set for her to have before she played the role of a troubled and depressed woman.

  Emilie shrugged to herself, her thoughts wandering back to Arden as the robe’s fabric moved across her bare skin with gentle friction. She had played Cassella when she herself was in a bad place, and that hadn’t ensured her success in the part. She’d revel in her positive mood today and let the part take care of itself. She couldn’t do any worse than she had the first night.

  Well, if she really thought about it, she could. She busied herself washing her bowl and getting dressed so she wouldn’t have time to think about it, and then she walked to the rehearsal hall near the theaters.

  She practically bounced onto the stage for her first entrance before slowing down and letting the words flow out of her. Full rehearsals had stopped once the production began, but some of the cast had continued to meet with the stage manager since she had been thrown into the part at the last minute. They ran through some of the key scenes, but the mood was more low-key than it had been before. She had the part now, and even though everyone’s expectations were fairly low, she wasn’t the terrifying risk she had been after her first performance.

  They’d needed to make some technical changes after Richard III’s first night, so she still had rehearsals for the play this week, and she ran to the next stage as soon as the Skywriting cast was released. She doubted they’d need more than another day or two before everyone was comfortable with the altered cues, which was good because she was scheduled to start rehearsals for Toxic next week.

  Emilie collapsed on her back during a short break while she wasn’t needed onstage. Geoffrey, as Richard, sidled over to her with the weird way he had of moving when he was in character. He had hammed it up during rehearsals, to the director’s chagrin, but as soon as he was onstage his movements became subtle and stiffly graceful. He acted with his entire body, and Emilie had learned a lot just by watching him.

  He sat next to her and dropped Richard off himself like tossing off a piece of clothing.

  “You have been smiling all day. It’s very becoming offstage, but Lady Anne looked a little too happy while standing next to her husband’s casket. Is this the bloom of love upon your cheeks?”

  “Love? No.” Yes. Emilie couldn’t deny it was love, but she didn’t know what kind yet. More than friendship, more than casual dating. Less than forever? She wasn’t sure. “I’m just giddy because I get to play Cassella again.” She clasped her hands together and gazed heavenward. “Oh, please let there be hundreds of critics in the audience tonight.”

  Geoffrey laughed. “You’re improving, and that’s what matters. Don’t read any nasty reviews in the paper. And definitely stay away from those blogs. Just keep focused on your work, and soon enough they’ll be praising your talent like they were the ones who discovered you.”

  “Thank—wait, what blogs?”

  “Did I say blogs? I don’t think so. What? Yes, I’m coming. Gotta go, Ems.”

  Emilie hadn’t heard anyone call him, but he got up and trotted off. She wasn’t about to start searching for online criticisms, especially not today. She put his words firmly out of her mind and returned to thoughts of Arden and what they’d do tonight. Their kiss had been explosive, setting off pings of fireworks inside Emilie’s body. She sensed a hesitation in Arden, though. An attempt to protect herself from their uncertain future. Emilie would respect her boundaries, but she’d be waiting eagerly on the other side of the wall whenever Arden invited her over.

  *****

  She had hoped a full day of rehearsals and a costume fitting would keep her from stressing about the night’s performance, but she didn’t need the distraction. She felt good, and the play was peripheral to her mood. She prepared carefully, of course, and made sure she had a small, light meal and a quick nap before she had to be at the theater. She arrived on time and moved through the process of hair, makeup, and costume without feeling like she was going to be sick.

  She felt the familiar wave of nerves as she stood backstage right before her entrance, but it was bearable. Welcome, even, since it heightened her anticipation and sharpened her focus. The smile she had worn all day faded, but the sensation of powerful emotion didn’t go away. It transformed into something different, something Cassella-like. Emilie didn’t have time to wonder about the new feeling because she was onstage and in the part before she realized she had taken a step.

  Emilie had one o
r two moments when she drifted outside herself and saw the play as if from outside, but they were brief and she easily slid back into character. She was as deeply embedded in Cassella as she had been in Titania the day she first met Arden. Five minutes into the play, and she knew she had managed to do what she had always hoped—to live up to her potential. And her grasp on the part wasn’t tenuous or shaky. She had hold of Cassella and was able to let go during intermission, and then grab her once again for the second half.

  The standing ovation was nice, but she could just as easily have stood in front of a silent, disapproving audience as long as she had the celebratory feeling inside her and the vision of obvious pride on Arden’s face in front of her.

  Backstage was an uproar with the usual chaos of undressing and coming down from the performance high, coupled with the cast’s response to her performance. There was a mix of disbelief and elation as they congratulated her, and she thought the stage manager might start crying.

  The rush of success followed her out of the theater and propelled her into Arden’s waiting arms. After a long, tight hug, Arden put her hands on Emilie’s shoulders and held her at arm’s length.

  “I don’t have words. You were spectacular. Beyond spectacular. I’m so proud of you, Em.”

  She hugged her again, and then gave her a little push toward the crowd of people that had gathered around them. “Talk to your fans, and sign some autographs. I’ll be right over here when you’re done.”

  Emilie looked back at Arden, not wanting to leave her side for even a moment. But a large number of audience members surrounded her, and she made sure she paid attention to each one while still glancing now and then at Arden.

 

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