Love at Center Stage: Three Theatrical Love Stories

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Love at Center Stage: Three Theatrical Love Stories Page 14

by Janice Thompson


  “So, you’re saying I get to do both parts?” Margaret’s voice began to tremble. “Both? Not just one?”

  “If you think you’re up to it.”

  “Mom! Guess what!” Margaret hollered. “They want me to do two different parts.” She returned to the phone, sounding a little breathless. “But I don’t know Annabelle’s song. Not very well, I mean.”

  “Can you meet me at the church in an hour? We’ll go over it then.”

  “Okay. I’ll ask my mom.” The youngster hollered once again, finally returning to the phone with, “She says it’s fine. We’ll see you in an hour.” After a pause, Margaret said, “Oh, and Miss Tangie. . .”

  “Yes, honey?”

  “I hope Annabelle gets to do her part. I’m fine with the narrator. Really I am.”

  Tangie smiled all the way to her toes. “Oh, honey, I’m so proud of you. And I have to tell you, you’re doing an awesome job with your part. I couldn’t be prouder.”

  As she ended the call, Tangie realized just how true those words were. Margaret had come such a long way. Then again, they’d all come a long way.

  Oh, but what a great distance they had left to go!

  ***

  Gregg sat on a barstool at the bakery, chatting with his mom as she made some of her famous homemade cinnamon rolls.

  “Mom, can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure, son.” She continued her work, but glanced up at him with a smile. “What’s up?”

  “I love you so much, but I’m worried about you.”

  “I know you are, but I’m going to be just fine.”

  “Still, with all you’re going through, why don’t you just sell off this place? Kick back and relax a little? You deserve it.”

  “W–what?” She looked at him, a horrified expression on her face. “Close down Sweet Harmony? But why?”

  “The shop has brought in all of the money you could need to retire in style.” He shrugged. “You could live stress-free for the rest of your life. I think it would be good for you. All of this work is. . .well, it’s work. And Josh and I want you to be able to take it easy.”

  “But honey, I’m only sixty-one. I’m not ready to retire yet. Besides. . .” Her eyes filled with tears. “Coming here every morning gives me a reason to get out of bed. People need me. And I need this shop. It’s. . .” She shook her head. “It’s keeping me going. I’m surprised you can’t see that.”

  Immediately, shame washed over Gregg. He’d never considered the fact that his mom would respond with such passion. “Ah. I’m sorry I brought it up. We just want the best for you, I promise.”

  “I know you do, honey, but this is the best for me. If I keep my body busy, then my mind stays busy, too. If my mind stays busy, then there’s no time left over to. . .”

  “To worry?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, then stretched out the dough for the cinnamon rolls, adding cinnamon, sugar, and butter before rolling them. “It’s all part of this great plan I’ve got for getting through this. Keep working. That’s the answer.”

  “Working helps keep your mind occupied,” he said. “But Mom, there’s really only one answer to getting through this, and it has nothing to do with work. It’s—”

  “No lectures, Greggy.” She turned to him with a warning look in her eye. “We’ve been through this. I don’t mind hearing you talk about all of the things this God of yours has done for you, but I’ve managed pretty well without Him for the first sixty years of my life and I’ll do just fine for the next sixty.”

  She gave him a wink, but it didn’t ease the pain in his heart. What could he do to get through to her?

  Just love her, Gregg. Just keep on loving her.

  TWENTY

  The afternoon of the final dress rehearsal, Tangie’s nerves were a jumbled mess. The kids somehow made it through the show, but there were problems all over the place. Margaret seemed really unsure of herself in Annabelle’s part, so she dropped quite a few lines. Darla wasn’t feeling well, so Gregg had to play the piano in her place. The set was still incomplete and some of the costumes still needed work. Tangie didn’t know when she’d ever been more stressed or less ready to pull off a show.

  As the rehearsal continued, Tangie offered up a plea to the Lord for both His mercies and His favor. She also spent a lot of time muttering “The show must go on” under her breath.

  The rehearsal ended soon enough and Tangie prayed with the children, then handed out flyers with instructions for tomorrow’s curtain call. She went over her notes one last time before releasing them. “Be here an hour before curtain. Have your hair and makeup done ahead of time. Get into costume immediately upon arrival. Meet in the choir room for vocal warm-up and prayer. Do everything you’re told to do when you’re told to do it.”

  “I’m never gonna remember all of that stuff,” Cody muttered.

  “That’s why I’ve given you the flyer,” Tangie explained. “Just make sure your parents read it. Oh, and kids. . .spend some time praying for our performance and for the people who will come to see it. That’s the most important thing we can do.”

  That last part hit her especially hard. There would be people in the audience who didn’t normally attend church. Some who had never heard the gospel message before. Would they really see the heart of the Good Shepherd shining through in her little play? Could a silly production about bunnies and baby chicks touch people’s lives?

  Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure. All of her confidence faded away, leaving behind only doubt.

  As they rose from their places on the stage, Tangie used her most animated stage voice to holler, “Break a leg!”

  Cody, who’d taken off running the other direction, turned back to look at her with a questioning look on his face. “Huh?”

  Tangie hollered out, “Cody, be careful! The set pieces still aren’t finished and I don’t want you to—” She never got to say the words “hurt yourself.” Cody tripped over a piece of wood behind one of the flats and down it came on top of him, the canvas ripping straight in half.

  He stood silent and still in the middle of the torn piece, his eyes as wide as saucers. All around the other children froze in place.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Tangie.” He groaned and slapped himself in the head. “But I told you I’m no good at this. I don’t belong on the stage.” He rubbed his ankle. “Besides, you told me to break my leg.”

  Tangie groaned, then rushed to his side to make sure he was okay. Convinced he was, she finally dismissed him. Ready to turn her attention to the ripped backdrop, she switched gears. With Gramps’ help, they would get the rest of the set pieces ready before the show.

  Less than a minute into the process, she heard her grandmother’s voice ring out.

  “Tangerine! Yoo-hoo!”

  She looked up as Gran-Gran approached the stage, carrying a small box. “I, um, need to talk with you about these programs, honey.” She handed one to Tangie, who looked at the cover and smiled.

  “Oh, they turned out great.”

  “Yes and no.”

  “Yes and no?” Tangie looked at the cover again.

  “Well, open one and see what I mean.”

  Tangie opened the program, realizing right away the text on the inside was upside down. “Oh, yikes.”

  “The printer sends his apologies,” Gran-Gran said with a shrug.

  “Can’t he redo them?”

  “Unfortunately, he has a big order for another church in town and doesn’t have time. But there’s some good news.”

  Tangie handed the program back to her grandmother. “I could use some good news, trust me.”

  “He gave them to us for half price.”

  “Well, yippee.” Tangie sighed. “I guess we don’t have much choice, do we?”

  “Look at the bright side. . .” Gran-Gran paused for a few seconds, her brow wrinkled.

  “What’s that?” Tangie asked.

  “I’m trying to think of one.” Her grandmother laughed. “But nothi
ng’s coming to me.”

  Tangie knelt to fix the torn backdrop, seaming the backside with heavy tape. However, just a few minutes into it, she heard Gregg’s voice ring out from the auditorium. “Tangie, I hate to tell you this. You have no idea how much I hate to tell you this.” He climbed the steps to the stage.

  With exhaustion eking from every pore, Tangie looked up at him. “What’s happened now?”

  “It’s Darla.”

  Tangie’s heart quickened. “Darla?” She put down the roll of tape and looked into Gregg’s eyes. “What’s happened to her? She hasn’t been in an accident or anything, has she?”

  “No, nothing like that.” Gregg shook his head. “It’s her appendix. They’ve taken her to surgery to remove it. Doctor says if they’d waited another day it could’ve been deadly.”

  “No! Oh, Gregg.” Tangie crumpled onto the floor, and the tears started. “What are we going to do? How in the world can we pull this off without Darla? We can’t have live music without a musician.” On and on she went, bemoaning the fact that the show couldn’t possibly go on without the pianist.

  Finally, when she regained control of her senses, Tangie sighed. “I’m so sorry. That was completely heartless. I should be saying how bad I feel for Darla, and instead I’m thinking only of myself.”

  “Well, not only of yourself.” Gregg gave her a sympathetic look. “You’re thinking of the kids. And the parents. And the other musicians. And the audience. And then, maybe, at the bottom of the list, yourself.”

  “Right.” Tangie shook her head, then whispered, “I give up.”

  “W–what?”

  “You heard me.” She looked at him, determination setting in. “I give up. I can’t do this. I’m not cut out to handle this much pressure.”

  “B–but. . .whatever happened to ‘The show must go on’? Doesn’t that stand for anything?”

  “There’s a time to admit defeat, Gregg, and this is it. Our leading lady has laryngitis, our set is in pieces, Cody very nearly broke his leg when he tripped earlier, the programs are upside-down, and now Darla can’t be here to play the piano for the show.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes.” She stared at him with tears now flowing. “The drama director is having a nervous breakdown!”

  He joined her on the floor and opened his arms to comfort her, but she wasn’t having any of it. No, sir. Not today. Today she just wanted everyone to go away and leave her alone.

  ***

  Gregg watched all of this, completely mesmerized. First of all, he’d never seen a grown woman throw a tantrum like this before. He found it almost comical. Entertaining, at the very least. Still, he did his best to hide any hint of a smile. Might just send Tangie over the edge. Looked like she was pretty close already.

  TWENTY-ONE

  On the Saturday of the big show, Tangie was a nervous wreck. Before she left for the church, she spent some time praying. Only the Lord could pull this off.

  She rode to the church with her grandparents, script in hand. Nestled beside her on the back car seat, the box holding the football-sized chocolate egg. Taffie had sent it, along with a note reading, Break a Leg. Tangie was half tempted to pick up the phone and tell her about Cody’s mishap. Maybe she’d have time for that later. Right now, they had a show to put on.

  After the Easter egg hunt, anyway.

  She arrived at the church to find Ashley and other children’s workers hard at work, putting out Easter eggs in designated areas, according to the ages of the children. Tangie looked at her with a smile. “How’s it going?”

  Ashley smiled. “Great!” She drew near and whispered, “Have you heard my news?”

  “News?” Tangie shifted her script to the other arm and shook her head. “What is it?”

  Ashley displayed her left hand, wiggling her ring finger so that there would be no doubt. A sparkling diamond adorned that finger, nestled into a beautiful white-gold setting.

  “Oh, Ashley! You’re engaged?”

  When she nodded, Tangie’s joy turned to sorrow. “Does. . .does that mean you’re leaving?”

  “Nah. Paul and I have talked about it. He has his own web-design business. He can do that here, in Harmony. So, it looks like we’ll settle in here, raise a family. You know.” She gave Tangie a wink.

  Tangie’s stomach tumbled to her toes. She’s assuming that’s what Gregg and I will do, too. But I’ll be in New York, not Harmony.

  Tangie forced her thoughts back to the present. “I’m thrilled for you!” After a few more words of congratulations, she heard Gregg’s voice sound from behind her. Tangie turned around, smiling as she caught a glimpse of him.

  “Ready for the big day?” he asked, drawing near.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.” She sighed, and he gave her an inquisitive look.

  “What?”

  “Well, I guess I should just admit that you were right all along. Doing a play with kids is a lot tougher than it looks. And all of the Broadway experience in the world didn’t prepare me for this.”

  Ashley laughed. “Nothing can prepare you for the chaos of kids, but they’re worth it.”

  “They are.”

  “And I heard there’s some good news where Annabelle’s concerned,” Gregg said.

  “Yes.” Tangie grinned. “Her mom called this morning and said she’s got her voice back. Said it was a miracle. When Annabelle went to bed last night things weren’t any better. But this morning. . .”

  “Was a brand new day.” Ashley laughed. “Oh, God is good, isn’t He?”

  “He is.” Tangie smiled—and all the more as guests started arriving. Within the hour, the whole church property was alive with activity. She had never seen so many children. And the Easter baskets! Nearly every child held one.

  Except the kids in the production, of course. They hadn’t come to hunt for Easter eggs. They were here to do a show.

  Tangie glanced at her watch. One o’clock. Time to meet with the cast and crew in the choir room for final instructions. She and Gregg made their way inside, finding a lively crowd waiting for them. She managed to get the kids quieted down, and Gregg opened in prayer. Then he nodded for Tangie to begin.

  “Kids, I know you’ve missed out on some of the activities outside,” she told them with a playful smile, “but it will be worth it when that auditorium fills up with neighborhood kids.”

  Cody raised his hand. “My best friend is here. I already told him I’m wearing a chicken suit and he didn’t laugh, so I don’t think I’ll have to give him a black eye or anything.”

  “Well, that’s nice.” Tangie stifled a laugh.

  Annabelle’s hand went up, too. “My aunt came and she brought my cousins. They’ve never been in a church before. My mom says it’s kind of like a miracle.”

  Tangie’s heart swelled with joy. “It is like a miracle.” Lord, You’re proving what I’ve said all along. . .the arts are a great way to reach out to people who don’t know You. Use this production, Father. Reach those who haven’t heard the gospel message before.

  “Kids, let’s pray before we do the show.” Tangie instructed them to stand and get into a circle. Some of the boys were a little hesitant to join hands, but eventually they formed a large, unified ring. At this point, she encouraged the children to pray, not just for the show, but also for those in attendance. By the end of the prayer time, Tangie had tears in her eyes. For that matter, Gregg did, too. From across the room, she gave him a wink, then mouthed the words, “Break a leg.” He nodded, then ushered the children toward the stage.

  ***

  Gregg took his seat at the piano, stretched his arms, and then whispered a prayer that all would go well. He could take Darla’s place as chief musician, ensuring the show would go on, but that was where his role ended. Everything from this point forth was up to the Lord. Would He take the little bit they’d given Him and use it to His glory? Only time would tell.

  The lights went down in the auditorium, but not before Gregg saw
his mother slip in the back door. He whispered a quiet, “Thank You, Lord,” then began to play the opening number.

  The stage lights came up and the colorful set came alive. The colors had seemed bright before, but not like this. Maybe it was the energy of the crowd. There were, after all, over three hundred elementary aged children in the room. Everything seemed brighter and happier.

  In the center of the stage, the spotlight hit the giant Easter egg. Then, as the music progressed, the egg began to crack from the inside out. “Good girl, Margaret,” he whispered. “Come on out of that protective shell of pride you’ve been wearing. Show ’em what you’ve got.”

  She did just that. As she emerged dressed as a baby chick, the audience came alive with laughter and joy. “It’s a chicken!” one little girl hollered.

  Not swayed, Margaret delivered her line with perfection. Then Annabelle entered the stage. Oh, how cute she looked in that little lamb costume. Tangie had been right. The kids loved this sort of thing. Annabelle opened her mouth to sing, and a holy hush fell over the audience. In fact, by the end of the song, Gregg could hardly see the keys. His eyes were, after all, filled with tears.

  ***

  When the show ended, Tangie rushed around backstage, congratulating the children and thanking them for doing such a terrific job. When the last of the kids had finally gone, she plopped down into a chair, completely dumbfounded. “You did it, Lord. You pulled it off.” And, with the exception of a couple of minor glitches, the show had been as close to perfect as any show could be. “Lord, I believe in miracles. I’ve just witnessed one.” She paused for a moment to think of all He had done. More than anything else, the Lord had convinced Tangie that she did, indeed, have a call on her life to work with kids. Maybe it hadn’t always been easy. . .but it had been worth it. No doubt about that.

 

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