The kiss ended and he looked deep into her eyes. “Just one question,” he asked. “And it’s an important one.”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Arthur’s costume. Do I—I mean, does he really have to wear tights?”
Amy laughed, caught off guard by his question. “Steve, is that really what you’re most worried about? Seriously?”
“Yeah, actually.” He shrugged, a panicked look in his eye. “You have no idea what this could do to a man’s psyche.”
“Well, in that case, we’ll call them pants, not tights. But whatever you call them, you’ll have to wear them. You don’t want to stand out in the crowd.”
“That’s just the problem,” he argued. “Every man in town will make fun of me.”
“No, they won’t,” she countered. “Because they’ll all be wearing them too. But don’t get hung up on the costuming yet, Steve. We’ve got so many other things to think about first—the stage, the set, the props, the acting, the food, the tickets, the programs, the orchestra, the promotion….” Amy suddenly felt a little nauseous. She leaned against him. “What was I thinking?”
“You were thinking of Camelot,” he whispered, his words tickling her ear.
“The legend, or the real place?” she asked, lowering her voice to match his.
“What’s the difference?”
What was the difference, indeed? The kiss that followed was, after all, the stuff legends were made of.
Chapter Seven
The actor should be able to create the universe in the palm of his hand.
Sir Laurence Olivier
On Monday morning at eight o’clock, with her knees knocking and her pulse racing, Amy posted the cast list to the front door of City Hall. With Steve’s help, she and Woody had managed to fill every role but one. Lancelot. Turned out Chuck Manly couldn’t sing a note…and it couldn’t be blamed on the strep throat. His acting abilities also left something to be desired. In the end, she’d assigned him a role as the town butcher, doubling as a knight-in-shining-armor. Woody agreed to write in a couple of lines for him.
Thankfully, she had a lead for an out-of-towner who might be willing to play the Lancelot role, someone with plenty of experience. That decision she would just have to leave in the Lord’s hands. At least the other roles had been filled. Now came the moment she’d been dreading…sharing the news with the townspeople.
The crowd roared as soon as Amy taped the paper to the door. People flocked around her, but she managed to scoot past them. Sprinting toward the ladies’ room seemed the best solution. Perhaps she could spend some time hiding out from the crowd. Amy could only imagine what the other women would say once they saw her name next to the role of Guinevere. Likely it would be the end of her. Would they buy the story that Steve and Woody had cooked up this plan? Hopefully—since it happened to be the truth.
A few minutes later, Eula Mae showed up in the ladies’ room. “You’ve been in here a long time. Feeling poorly?”
“Not really.” Amy groaned. “Well, not physically, anyway.”
“When the going gets tough, the tough hide out in the john?” Eula Mae’s laugh lines deepened as she got a case of the giggles. “This is becoming a regular habit for you.”
“I’m afraid they’re going to lynch me when they see what Woody and Steve have decided.”
“You mean the fact that you’re playing Guinevere?”
“Yes.” Amy sighed. “You know it wasn’t my idea, right?”
“Well, I for one think it’s brilliant,” Eula Mae said. “After that duet you and Steve sang the other day, there was no doubt in my mind. You’re perfect for each other.” She giggled. “As Arthur and Guinevere, I mean.” She muttered something indistinguishable under her breath as she pulled the door open and headed out into the hallway.
Amy glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She tried to imagine herself as the fair Lady Guinevere, dressed in a regal gown and singing alongside the handsome King Arthur.
Suddenly her spirits lifted. Playing Guinevere meant that she would be spending a lot of time with Steve. In a romantic role, nonetheless. Her fears dissipated and she felt her courage return as the memory of their kiss—or would that be kisses?—resurfaced. She could do anything with Steve at her side. And how ironic that the Lord had placed them in this situation, where they would have to declare their undying love for each other—as Guinevere and Arthur—in front of the masses. Man. When the Lord moved, He moved fast!
Amy spoke to her reflection in the mirror. “You can do this, girl. Just go out and face them like a man. Er, woman.”
“Amy, who are you talking to?”
She looked over as Caroline stepped inside the ladies’ room with Lucy following directly behind.
“Oh, well, I…”
“You’re hiding, aren’t you?” A hint of a smile graced Lucy’s overly made-up face.
“Yeah.” Amy sighed. “But I’m about to go out there. As soon as I work up the courage.”
“Not sure that’s the best idea just yet,” Caroline said. “The ladies are, um…”
“Mad?”
“As hornets. Well, mainly Gwen. The others are just confused. Trying to absorb the news. Give them time to get used to the idea. Woody is talking to them.”
“Did he tell them this was his decision? Well, his and Steve’s?” Amy asked. “Because I didn’t do this. I promise. Trust me, the last thing I wanted to do was put myself up in front of people as an actress and singer. I’m not.” She started to add, “I’m not even a director” but stopped short.
“Oh, honey, don’t worry about that,” Lucy said. “No hurt feelings from me, anyway. I tried out for the part, sure, but I didn’t really put any stock in getting it. Besides, I was there when you sang that song with Steve. It’s so obvious that you were meant to do this. And a few other things are just as obvious too.”
“O–oh?”
“Of course.” Lucy’s painted-on eyebrows elevated. “You think you can hide your feelings for Steve from someone as discerning as me? Think again.”
“You’re as obvious as a rosebush blooming in my front yard,” Caroline added. “Maybe more so.”
Amy sighed. “I’m done trying to hide it, anyway. We both are.”
“Well, good.” Caroline grinned and reached over to give Amy a hug. “Steve and Darrell have always been like family to me, so I’ve taken a special interest in you, Amy. Always have. I hope you know that.”
“Me too,” Lucy said, joining the circle. “After all…” Her cheeks turned pink. “I guess it’s no secret that I have a little crush on your dad.” She giggled.
Ugh. Awkward. And apparently just as awkward for Caroline, who looked as if she might be ill at this news.
Thankfully—or not so thankfully—Amy didn’t have time to think about Lucy Cramden as potential mother material. The door to the restroom swung open and Gwen entered. Yikes. The twenty-something’s eyes narrowed as she looked Amy’s way.
“Is it true?”
“W–what?” Amy asked.
“You gave yourself the lead in the show?”
“Well, actually…” Amy stopped and shrugged. What difference would it make if she told Gwen who had decided it? She still wouldn’t believe her.
“So it’s true.” Gwen crossed her arms and stared at Amy. “Pretty brazen, I think. But I see what you’re up to. You set this thing up from the beginning, didn’t you?”
That last accusation took Amy’s breath away. “Of course not. And to clarify, Woody and Steve made this decision.”
“Sure they did.” Gwen glanced at her appearance in the mirror then looked back at Amy.
“They did. And I’ve agreed—reluctantly, I might add—to go along with it.”
Annabelle and Blossom squeezed in behind Gwen.
“I think it’s a great idea,” Blossom said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Amy is absolutely perfect for the part.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re t
one-deaf,” Gwen said. “You never stood a chance like I did.”
Blossom’s smile disappeared. “I, um…” Her eyes brimmed with tears.
“That was rude, Gwen.” Annabelle stepped up next to her. “And just for the record, I happen to agree with Blossom. Amy is the better choice. We’d have to be crazy not to see it.”
“You’re not disappointed?” Amy took Annabelle’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Your audition was so good.”
Gwen made a hmph sound and rechecked her reflection in the mirror.
Annabelle shrugged. “I’m a little disappointed, sure, but I never counted on playing the lead.” She gestured to her midsection. “Look at me, Amy. I’m no Guinevere.”
“You would have made a beautiful Guinevere,” Amy said. “I have no doubt in my mind. But if you’re okay with playing a lady-in-waiting…”
“Okay?” Annabelle laughed. “I’ll be a nervous wreck, just like I was when I auditioned. And besides, my work schedule is terrible. Making the rehearsals is going to be tough.”
“Same here.” Blossom sighed. “I hope I can work it out.”
“Well, to be honest, I’m not even sure I’m going to try to work it out.” Gwen reached inside her purse for her lipstick and then swiped a streak across her bottom lip. “I’m trying to run a business, after all. I could see bending over backward to play one of the leads in the show, but a bit part? No thanks.” She tossed the lipstick back in her purse and then turned and walked out of the bathroom, the door slamming behind her.
“Should I go after her?” Amy asked.
“Don’t you dare.” Caroline shook her head. “You just give her time to cool down.” After a pause, she gave Amy a tender look. “You realize what she’s really upset about, don’t you?”
“What?”
“You and Steve. I think she realizes this seals her fate.”
“Her fate?” Annabelle and Blossom spoke in unison.
“What do you mean?’ Amy asked.
“I mean, she’s been trying to get her claws into Steve for years,” Caroline explained. “And she’s not happy that you’re going to be playing his love interest.”
“Well, technically, Guinevere is a love interest for both Arthur and Lancelot,” Lucy said with a wink. “So Amy gets to romance two men, not one.”
A shiver ran down Amy’s spine as she contemplated that idea. Didn’t sound appealing.
“Speaking of which, there’s no Lancelot listed,” Annabelle said. “What’s up with that?”
“We haven’t cast that part yet,” Amy explained. “Woody says he’s got someone special in mind and not to worry. Someone from out of town with a lot of acting experience. Anyway, I’m trusting that he knows what he’s talking about. For now, we’ll get started with the players we do have and go from there.”
A knock sounded at the door and a man’s voice rang out. “Everyone okay in there?”
“Pete?” Lucy pushed the door open, and he took a tentative step inside, looking more than a little nervous. “What in the world are you doing in the ladies’ room?”
“We were getting worried about you.” He gestured to the hallway, where all of the men stood in a huddle. “Thought maybe someone was sick or something. Do you need us to call 911?”
“Of course not.” Lucy rolled her eyes. “But thanks for checking on us.” She closed the door and giggled. “Men. Can’t live with ’em, certainly can’t live without ’em!” At this proclamation, the ladies erupted in laughter.
Eula Mae entered once more. She looked back and forth from Amy to the others. “I had no idea we were holding a business meeting or I would’ve prepared appetizers. Anyone else hungry?”
“Starving.” Annabelle said, rubbing her stomach. “That pizza I ate last night barely hit the spot.” As the others looked her way, she shrugged. “Yeah, it’s true. I’m off my diet. But who cares, really? If I can’t love myself in my current fluffy condition, then I’ve got a deeper issue than a few pounds.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Eula Mae gave her a warm hug. “So, what do you say? Let’s all head over to the diner for breakfast. My treat.”
“Your treat?” Amy gave her a funny look.
“Yes, I’m feeling generous.” Eula Mae grinned. “And a little giddy too.”
“Why is that?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Eula Mae said with a wink. “Now, c’mon out of the ladies’ room and face up to the people. They’re grown-ups. They can handle it.”
“And don’t worry about Gwen,” Lucy added. “She’s got her panties in a knot, but they’ll come unwound soon enough and she’ll be back to her old self.”
“Mean and rotten?” Blossom asked.
A ripple of laughter made its way around the room, and before long Amy felt her spirits lift. It looked like most of the ladies were on her side. Not that she really wanted anyone to take sides. Honestly, all she really wanted with Gwen was peace. And possibly a little taste of what things were like back in junior high, when they were still good friends.
Didn’t look like that day was coming anytime soon. Amy sighed then reached for her purse and tagged along on Lucy’s heels, ready to tackle her role as Camelot’s leading lady.
Steve paced the hallway, wondering when Amy and the others would come out of the restroom.
“She up to her usual tricks?” Charlie asked, drawing near.
Steve looked his way. “Sir?”
“Oh, you know. She always hides in the restroom when she’s nervous about something. Remember that cheerleading audition in the ninth grade? It took her mother over an hour to talk her into coming out of the ladies’ room at the school. And she did it the day of the auditions too, remember? At the church.”
“Now that you mention it, I do see a common theme.” Steve paused. “What do you suppose they’re doing in there, anyway?”
“Who knows.” Charlie slapped him on the back. “Who can ever tell with women? They always go to the restroom together. Besides, you know what I always say, son: ‘Women. You can’t live with ’em…’ ”
“And you can’t live without ’em.” Steve chimed in for the last few words and then chuckled. For the first time in his life, he finally understood what it was like to not be able to live without a woman. The words to “If Ever I Would Leave You” flitted through his mind, bringing a smile.
The door to the ladies’ room swung wide and Eula Mae stepped through. Then Lucy Cramden, wearing a lime green T-shirt about three sizes too small. Then Annabelle, eating a kolache that she pulled from her oversize purse. Then Blossom, fussing with her hair. Then Caroline, offering him a motherly smile. Then, finally, the woman he’d been waiting for.
Amy.
She looked his way and sighed.
“Our star is ready for her close-up, Mr. DeMille.” Eula Mae pushed Amy his way. Then she took Annabelle and Blossom by the arm and led them in the opposite direction. The crowd cleared and Steve found himself alone with the fair maiden. Well, the fair maiden with the look of terror on her face.
“So…” He stifled a grin. “Anything I need to know?”
“Just one thing.” She reached over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “If anyone ever accuses me of being faint of heart, defend me, okay?”
“Of course.”
“Honestly, this is the bravest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Braver than owning up to the fact that we’re more than friends?” He glanced around to make sure no one was looking and then kissed the tip of her nose.
Amy paled. “It’s just so terrifying to think that I’ll have to stand up on a stage and sing my heart out in front of hundreds—no, thousands—of people.”
“Let me understand this.” Steve crossed his arms and looked into her eyes. “You’re perfectly willing for me to stand up in front of thousands.”
“Well, that’s different. You’ve sung in church before.”
“But these will be total strangers who are paying to see the show.”
“Oh, Steve.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “What have I done? Seriously? This is going to turn out to be the dumbest idea I ever had.”
“Doubtful.”
When he grinned, she slugged him. “Thanks a lot.”
“Hey, now. I’m not saying it’s a dumb idea. Just the opposite, in fact. And you’ll do fine, Amy.”
“As actor or director?”
“Both.” His gaze narrowed. “Only one problem I can see.”
“What’s that?”
“When I kiss you, am I kissing Amy the director, Amy the actress, or Guinevere—the woman who’s going to eventually break Arthur’s heart?”
“Ugh.” She shook her head. “Let’s just say you’re kissing Amy, the girl who’s been nuts about you since the seventh grade.”
“Seventh grade, eh?” He chuckled. “That’s really saying something. I had acne and skinny legs in seventh grade.”
“You still have skinny legs,” she said. “But who’s looking?”
“Obviously you are.” He kissed her soundly then wrapped her in a loving embrace. As she lingered in his arms, his heart swelled with joy. Steve suddenly felt like the king of the world. And with Lady Guinevere in his arms, he felt sure he could conquer any foe.
Chapter Eight
All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.
William Shakespeare
Less than one week after auditions for the play, Steve rode to Knoxville with Amy’s father. He prayed they would make it to the building supply store by noon to make their purchases so that they could load up the truck and be back in Camelot in time for their first rehearsal at the Civic Center. The afternoon was sure to be chaotic.
From the passenger seat in Charlie Hart’s truck, Steve observed the cloudless sky. “It’s supposed to storm this afternoon, so I hope we make it back without any trouble.”
“We will.” Charlie quirked a brow and picked up the pace.
Love at Center Stage: Three Theatrical Love Stories Page 39