Set the Stage

by Karis Walsh

  As soon as Rebecca paused to take a breath, Emilie spoke up. “You were right, Rebecca, that really is fascinating. Who knew you could mow grass in so many different ways? Well, I’ve got to go.”

  Rebecca stood when she did and gave her another hug. “Take care, Emilie. I hope to see you soon. And think about what I said.”

  “Oh, I will,” Emilie promised, bursting out of the door and onto the sidewalk with relief. She tossed her milkshake cup in a garbage can and headed toward her house. She had work to do before she saw Arden again.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Arden was a few blocks away from the park when her phone vibrated in her back pocket. She pulled it out, not realizing how much she was hoping the text was from Emilie until she saw Emilie’s name and a photo Arden had taken of her on the stage in the Japanese garden displayed on the screen. Arden had debated whether to contact Emilie after her epiphany at the pub, but she had always found an excuse to put it off yet again. She wasn’t sure what scared her the most—Emilie telling her that she didn’t want to be together because it would involve compromise, or Emilie saying yes, she was willing to try. In the latter case, Arden would need to step out of her comfort zone and, sooner or later, leave her home.

  Even before she read the text, Arden felt bombarded by emotions. The remembered sensation of Emilie’s kisses and caresses shivered across her skin. The loneliness she had felt without Emilie around to make her laugh louder and think deeper and be happier. Sadness and pain were there, too. Arden stopped and leaned against the wood siding of a children’s clothing store because she needed physical support while she read Emilie’s message.

  There was nothing to read, except two lines of numbers. Arden’s immediate reaction was disappointment, until she realized she was looking at coordinates. They were recognizable to her as representing a location nearby, probably either in the park or near the theaters. Arden plugged them into her GPS and resumed walking.

  She left the street and went into the park. Even in her distracted state, she noticed the sense of peace that she always found as soon as she left the town behind and was swallowed up by trees and brushy ground cover. Normally, she would stop by the pond and listen to the ducks’ raucous paddling or pause by one of her stages and make sure the props and scripts were ready for the day’s crowd.

  Not today, though. She kept going, her steps getting faster as she realized where Emilie was sending her. Her footsteps echoed through the empty park, and she saw three whitetail deer stop to stare in her direction before fading into the thick band of ground fog that blanketed the borders of Ashland Creek. Arden left the more populated section of the park behind and turned onto a narrow path that led up the hill and deeper into the uncultivated forest. She hesitated before entering the clearing where she and Emilie had met.

  She exhaled slowly and stepped around the trees. She was alone. She went over to the stump Emilie had used as a stage and had just sat down when her phone buzzed again.

  She looked around before answering—Emilie must have either seen her enter the clearing or had accurately guessed how long it would take her to get here—but Arden didn’t see any sign of her. She opened the message and smiled when she saw it was a poem. A clue.

  “Double, double, you’re in trouble if you trip on me. Reach below me if you dare, where I join with the tree.” Arden read the clue out loud before scanning the ground around her feet. It was mostly flat and smooth, with tufts of grass here and there, but once she widened her search to the next layer of trees, she saw a large root protruding from the ground. It curved where it connected to a fir tree, leaving a small hollow between its arch and the ground.

  Arden went over and reached underneath, brushing aside a layer of dry fir needles and pulling out a small box made of dark cherrywood. A gentle breeze layered the scent of jasmine over the forest smells of sweet sap and damp ferns, and Arden turned to see Emilie standing behind her in the clearing.

  Arden walked toward her, holding the still-unopened box in her hands. She stopped a few feet away, not quite sure how to break the silence between them.

  “Aren’t you going to open it? There might be a treasure inside.”

  Arden was grateful Emilie spoke first, or Arden might have stood there all day, trying to sort through everything she wanted to say to her.

  Emilie was smiling, with what looked like a combination of uncertainty and playfulness. Arden shook the box slightly and heard something clunk inside. She opened it and found a flat piece of wood, cut out in the shape of a daffodil and painted a vibrant yellow.

  Arden picked it up and turned it over in her hands. The back side was plain and looked as if it had been glued to something. “Did you make this?” she asked. She frowned at the flower as she tried to place where she had seen something similar before. “Or did you…wait, is this from the Midsummer Night’s Dream set? You stole it?”

  She couldn’t stop herself from laughing. Leave it to Emilie to find a way to horrify and amuse her at the same time. And a way to break the barriers time apart and painful words had erected between them, somehow making Arden feel as if they had never been apart.

  “I didn’t steal it,” Emilie said with an indignant tone. “I was reviewing my marks for the scene in Titania’s bower, and I accidentally stepped on it. You could barely see where it had fallen off, so I figured no one would miss it.”

  Arden furrowed her brow, trying to picture how Emilie could have stepped on an upright set piece. “How did you—”

  Emilie waved her hand to stop her. “It’s probably best if you don’t ask too many questions. The less you know, the more innocent you’ll sound if questioned by the police.” She shrugged. “I thought you might like to have a memento of the set. I know the play is special to you.”

  Arden laughed and shook her head. “I love it. Thank you. And I guess I can always make a new flower to replace this one if we reuse the set for another play next year.”

  “Exactly,” Emilie said with a satisfied smile. “And kudos to the set production staff. I had to accidentally step on the damned thing three times before it came off.”

  “I’ll be sure to pass along your compliments when I meet them.” Arden sighed. She had missed this, but every funny or wonderful or affectionate moment with Emilie seemed to have a good-bye in the background.

  Emilie reached out and traced her finger along the shape of the daffodil, stopping just before she touched Arden’s hand where she held the painted green stem.

  “You took something out of the box,” she said softly. “Now you need to give something in return.”

  Arden swallowed, her throat tightening as Emilie’s voice lost its lightheartedness and turned more serious. “Did you have something in mind?”

  “Yes.” Emilie moved closer and looked directly at Arden. “Trust. I want your trust.”

  “What do you mean?” Arden could barely get the words out because her body was demanding her attention. Emilie was so close. It wouldn’t take more than a step to put Arden close enough to hold her.

  “I want you to trust me when I say that we belong together and that we can find a way to make us work. And trust that I love you, more than anything.”

  Arden wanted nothing more than to say okay and jump into Emilie’s arms, but she had spent too many years conditioning herself to accept departures. She let herself bridge the gap between them with her hand, though, sliding her fingers into the wild curls that curved along Emilie’s cheekbone.

  “I’ve been thinking about possibilities lately,” Arden said, watching the gold in Emilie’s hair shimmer where the dappled sunlight fell across her. “I used to only see one. I lived here, and always would. Other people were the ones who left.”

  “What changed?” Emilie’s voice sounded breathless, and she tilted her head toward Arden’s hand, drawing her deeper and closer.

  “My friends. Jacob. Even Joe.” Arden shook her head. “I’ve been focused on the few who left me behind, like my parents and ex-girlfrie
nds, but I have amazing people in my life who always will be there for me, even if we all don’t stay in Ashland forever. And they all had different suggestions for us. Some of them were crazy, and some of them would be difficult, but could work. Possibilities.”

  “My new favorite word.” Emilie smiled, but then her face took on a thoughtful expression. “Did Rebecca’s plan have something to do with me taking over your job here in the park when you quit?”

  “Yeah. That was one of the crazier options.” Arden held up her flower. “Especially if you treat real flowers like you did this one.”

  Emilie lifted her hand and covered Arden’s where it was still tangled in her hair. “So you’ll trust me? Trust what we have together?”

  Arden nodded. She couldn’t say no. She had fought against her desire for Emilie with varying degrees of success from the start, but she didn’t want to fight anymore. Surrendering to her feelings for Emilie had always seemed inevitable, but now she was slowly starting to realize that she was winning her. Not losing her.

  “I love you, Em.”

  Emilie’s smile clearly showed a relief and joy that mirrored what Arden was feeling inside. She moved her hand to the back of Emilie’s neck and pulled her into a kiss. She still wasn’t sure how they would manage two careers and one life together, but they would work together. Hell, if her parents could do it—with the selfish tendencies they had shown toward her and her grandparents—then she and someone as generous and kind as Emilie surely could.

  She pulled back with a laugh. “So I guess I need to tell Gwen I won’t be doing the internship after all, because we’ll be moving to New York,” she said. She waited for a twinge of disappointment or regret, but none came. She had discovered a passion for stage design, but she could pursue it in New York instead of Ashland if necessary.

  Emilie shook her head. “Someday, maybe. Probably. But not next year. You do the internship and make sure the sets for next season are the best the world has ever seen because I signed my contract today, and this Lady Macbeth expects nothing less.”

  Arden had experienced too many emotions already today, from loneliness to wonder, from uncertainty to the complete and utter trust Emilie had demanded from her. She let go of Emilie and sat on the tree stump. “You signed a contract already? Can you get out of it?”

  Emilie knelt in front of her and took Arden’s hands in her own. “I don’t want out of it, Arden. We’ll be here next season, maybe longer if we want, and then we can decide together where we’ll go.” Arden’s hands felt cold, and Emilie rubbed them gently. “And if we don’t agree, we can flip a coin or battle it out on the dartboard in Lisa’s pub. Sometimes it will be right for us to move for your career, and sometimes for mine. You’re supposed to trust this, remember?”

  Arden shook her head. “Emilie, I can’t be the reason you give up a chance to be on Broadway. You’ll hate me for it. I don’t want to be another trip to Europe for you.”

  “I’m completely at peace about this decision,” Emilie said, and Arden couldn’t deny that her expression had seemed relaxed and happy ever since Arden had told her she loved her. “I never felt comfortable with going to Europe. I knew inside that it was the wrong thing to do from the moment I said I’d go, but I was afraid to back out. I’m not scared of acting anymore, and I’m excited about the parts I’ll get to play. And you need to be here, to work with Gwen.”

  Emilie looked convinced, and Arden wanted to believe her, to trust what she was saying. They would have time to be together and learn more about each other before they moved out of the shelter of the festival and started their life of shared compromise. She had to try once more, though, to know that Emilie was sure.

  “Skywriting probably won’t be an option after a year,” she said. “Someone else will be cast as Cassella. You’re spectacular in the role, and you should have the chance to take it to Broadway.”

  “Meh,” Emilie said with a casual shrug.

  Arden felt her eyes widen. “Seriously? Meh?”

  “There’ll be other parts to play. I’m glad I conquered that one, and I’m proud of how much I’ve improved since the first horrible night, but I want to see what else I can do. What else we both can do. Together. Supporting each other.”

  Arden cupped Emilie’s cheeks in her hands and kissed her again. She meant for it to be a gentle kiss, while they processed what was happening between them and while she worked on more reasons for Emilie to go, but Emilie had something else in mind. She pressed closer to Arden, moving between her thighs and teasing Arden’s tongue with her own. Arden felt acceptance click into place. The final step before she fell wholeheartedly into Emilie and their future.

  Emilie wrapped her arms around Arden’s neck and hugged her tightly.

  “You’ve been waiting behind the scenes for far too long, Arden,” she said, with the whisper of her breath tickling Arden’s ear. Arden’s thighs tightened around Emilie’s hips until they were molded together. “It’s about time you get to be the star.”

  Arden shook her head. “Costar,” she corrected her.

  “Even better.” Emilie kissed Arden with an intensity that was overwhelming, but not frightening at all. Arden matched her passion, letting go of the need for dialogue about their future and craving only action as Emilie’s hands slipped under the hem of Arden’s shirt and moved across her skin.

  Epilogue

  Emilie checked the gilded coronet to make sure it was secure on her head. Of course it was, and Velda would be irate if she knew Emilie had even a moment of doubt about anything she wore on her head when she was onstage. She was doubting everything right now, though she had thought her stage fright would be gone—or at least significantly lessened—after a full season with the festival. But she felt as nauseated now as she ever had.

  She smoothed her sweaty palms over the heavy velvet bodice of her simple navy gown, sending a silent apology to the wardrobe staff in case she crushed the nap of the fabric with her nervous gestures. She had been thrilled to be cast as the iconic Lady Macbeth, but eventually the reality of what she was about to attempt had sunk in. A role like this was tricky at best, and disastrous at worst. If she gave a standard, time-honored interpretation of the character, she would be called uninspired and bland. If she pushed past some conventional boundaries and brought something unique to the role, she might be accused of ignoring the great actors who had come before her. What was she supposed to do? Change her approach in every scene so she made everyone happy?

  Emilie rested her hand on the plywood backing of the set, drawing strength from the wood Arden had designed, touched, and created. Arden was nervous tonight, as well, but as far as Emilie was concerned, she had absolutely no reason to be. Gwen had given her this production as her special project, and Arden had been the main driving force from the initial conversations with the director to the final touches onstage. The set was stunning. During the dress rehearsal, the movement of the play had flowed through Arden’s minimally designed spaces with an ease that framed the characters’ scenes and allowed the words of the play to be constantly in the forefront of the production.

  Arden had a real gift for spatial design, and Emilie wasn’t the only actor who thought so. All of them had been in enough productions where they’d felt as if they were fighting against the scenery or hindered by the set to recognize real collaborative talent when they experienced it. A wave of love rolled through Emilie, washing away most of her nausea just in time for her first cue. She got into place and was about to make her entrance when she saw a flash of yellow near her right foot. She paused when she recognized the tiny daffodil she had appropriated for Arden from the Midsummer Night’s Dream set. She smiled, and then carefully brought her features under control as she swept into her palace.

  *****

  Arden had to be on hand during every scene change, but she was able to watch most of Emilie’s performance from the wings of the Bowmer Theatre. When the other actors were onstage, she was focused on her set and how it worked
for the play. She had a list of minor tweaks she’d take care of before the next performance, since no one could predict how the set would work during a live production, but the changes she would need to make were minimal. When Emilie was onstage, though, Arden couldn’t focus on anything but her.

  She had seen her share of Lady Macbeths, since this play was in the standard repertoire. She believed in Em’s talent with her whole heart, but she had been worried about how she would make this role her own without changing too much of what others had done before her to make it great. After the first scene, her admiration for Emilie was completely untempered by anxiety. Emilie brought a freshness and a unique energy to the role, but she was always recognizable as the classic character. Em walked a fine line, sliding more to the side of modern and new than overly traditional, and Arden knew she was going to be a hit.

  After the play was over, Arden discreetly pocketed the little daffodil. She would hide it somewhere for Emilie to find on the set of her next play. She hurried through the evening, chatting with Gwen about the performance and her evaluation of the set design and helping the crew dismantle the scenery because a different production would be held here before the next scheduled showing of Macbeth.

  As soon as she could get away, Arden ran outside and saw Emilie signing programs on the Bricks. She hovered out of sight, letting Em have her moment, but Emilie lifted her head and looked directly at her. She excused herself from her fans and hurried over to wrap Arden in a tight hug.

  “You were amazing.”

  “Your set was perfect,” Emilie said at the same time.

  They broke apart, laughing, and headed toward the park. It was technically closed after sunset, but they liked to walk here or in Arden’s yard after the plays, centering themselves in the real world again, and with each other. Emilie took Arden’s hand and led her along a back trail until they reached their clearing.