Steve was just about to insist he sit back down, when Woody chuckled. “Just kidding. Get me to the car, fellas. And by the way, let’s ride in my Mustang. If we’ve gotta go to the hospital, let’s go in style.”
“But…” Steve started to argue about the inspection being out but thought the better of it. Hopefully by the time they got to the parking lot, Woody would agree to go in Steve’s truck. If they could get him into it. Hmm. Maybe the Mustang would be better after all.
Nearby, Eula Mae’s eyes filled with tears. A couple of the other ladies looked as if they might join her in an emotional meltdown.
“Don’t worry, now,” Woody said with the wave of a hand as they led him from the room. “You just get me to a doctor and he’ll patch me up in no time. I’ll be back tomorrow, for sure.”
Steve didn’t have the heart to tell him that he wouldn’t be back tomorrow. Or the day after that. From the looks of things, Woody was down for the count. And the Camelot Players had just lost the only director who really knew anything about putting on a show.
Chapter Sixteen
Acting is not about being someone different.
It’s finding the similarity in what is apparently different,
then finding myself in there.
Meryl Streep
The morning after Woody’s accident, Amy settled onto the sofa with a cup of coffee in hand. She reached for the Knox County Register, and her eyes widened in disbelief as she read the headline: Chaos Reigns in Camelot. She squeezed her eyes shut then opened them, reading it again. Yep. Same headline as before. She skimmed the article, horrified at what she found written there. Okay, so most of it was true, but did that reporter have to take advantage of them in such a public way?
“Dad!” she called out. “Dad, have you seen this?”
Seconds later he appeared in the doorway, nibbling on a piece of bacon. “What happened? Is the house on fire?”
She pointed to the paper, her heart pounding wildly. “Look what that reporter did. He’s…he’s ruined us.”
Her father swallowed the rest of the bacon and took the paper from her, his gaze shifting to the headline. A deep sigh followed, and he tossed the paper on the desk. “You’ve got to admit, we gave him a lot to write about. Impeccable timing on his part.”
“Still.” Amy rose and paced the room. “He didn’t have to lay it all out there like that. Seems a bit brusque, don’t you think?”
“Maybe. But you know what they say in Hollywood.”
“What’s that?”
He gave her a knowing look. “Publicity is publicity. And this is free publicity for the play. Front page, no less. People are bound to be curious after reading what a bunch of screwballs we are. They’ll come see the show just to find out if what he’s written is true.”
“And when they find out it is?” She leaned against the arm of the sofa and forced back the tears. “Then what?”
“Then we work double time to prove we’ve got the goods,” he said. “Not that it’s really anyone’s business. We’re a team, Amy. We stick together no matter what. Right now our main focus is on Woody.”
“True.”
“Have you heard anything about his condition?”
“Steve called me on his way into work about ten minutes ago. He said they’ve set Woody’s arm but are keeping him in the hospital under observation for another twenty-four hours because of his blood pressure. It was pretty high last night, I think. But at least he didn’t need surgery. That’s a huge relief.”
“Of course.” Her father paused. “Should we go see him?”
She shook her head and dropped into the recliner. “No, Steve said the doctor wants him to rest.” A lingering pause followed. “I’m just sick over the fact that Woody’s in pain. And how in the world can I direct the show without him? I’m so clueless.”
“You know how Woody is,” her father countered. “He’ll show up at the rehearsals even if his arm is in a cast.”
“Probably.” She paused, deep in thought. “But it’s not just the directing that has me upset. Dad, this is my fault. All of it. Every single bit. Don’t you see?”
“Your fault? You shoved him down on the floor?”
“No. I’m just saying that this play was my idea. If I hadn’t come up with it, Woody wouldn’t have been there. If he hadn’t been there, he wouldn’t have fallen. So it all goes back to me.”
“You’re overanalyzing this, honey.” Her father shook his head. “Just like you always do. And if we’re going with your theory that the one who conceptualized the idea is at fault, then we would have to conclude that Henry Ford is ultimately responsible for what happened to your mom.”
“What?”
“Well, sure. He’s the one who designed the Model T and basically got the whole automobile industry started. And if automobiles hadn’t been invented, your mother would still be with us.”
“Dad.” She shook her head, finding his logic completely skewed.
He gave her a compassionate look. “Honey, you had a great idea. We’ll never regret putting on this show.” A chuckle followed. “Well, maybe on the night of the dress rehearsal, but even then we’ll think it’s a good idea. And Woody loves it. You’ve given him a reason to go on. You have no idea how much he’s needed this. And I’ll go a step further and say that he’s eating up the attention this broken arm is getting him. So don’t fret. You do that far too much.”
“Fretting is my middle name.” She sighed.
“Then change your name.” He gave her a serious look. “Because fretting—worrying—is senseless. And it’s a sure sign that you’re trying to hang onto something that’s not yours to hang onto. So let it go.”
“I wish I could figure out how to do that,” she said. “Letting go isn’t as easy as it looks.”
“I know.” His eyes began to glisten. “If anyone knows that, I do.”
“I know that, Dad. I’m sorry.”
His cell phone rang, and as he glanced down at it, the corners of his lips turned up. He dabbed at his eyes and muttered, “I, um, I need to get this.”
“Someone calling about Woody?”
“No, um…” He shrugged and answered with a gentle “Hello?” before disappearing into his bedroom.
Very odd.
Not that Amy really had time to be worrying about her father’s phone calls. No, with another city council meeting this evening, she really only had one thing on her mind—staying on top of her work and making sure the county officials didn’t stop them in the meantime.
She picked up her phone and called Steve at work to let him know she was on her way. Eula Mae answered on the third ring, her voice sounding a little muffled.
“H–hello?”
“Eula Mae? You all right?”
“Oh, I’m…” The older woman sniffed. “Just missing Woody.”
“Aw.” Amy’s heart went out to her. “Take the day off and spend it with him. We’ll get along fine without you, and it will make you feel better.”
“The doctor says he needs to rest.”
“Well, he can rest with you by his side. And I’m sure he’d love the company.”
“He won’t let me come.” She sighed. “Said he doesn’t want me to see him in a hospital bed. Stubborn old fool. He’s worse than Sarge’s mule.”
“I might have to agree with you there,” Amy said. “I thought maybe this situation might soften him a little.”
“Hmph. Besides, I hate to leave the office because there’s so much going on around here. You coming in soon?”
“Yes. I’m on my way now. I was just calling to let Steve know.”
“He walked over to the diner to pick up some donuts. I think he felt sorry for me.”
“Ah.” She paused. “Well, what’s going on over there that I need to know about?”
“What isn’t, might be a better question. Probably better if you wait till you get here, though. Then we can talk.”
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
<
br /> “Good. I think you and Steve and I had better hash a few things out before tonight’s city council meeting. Trust me. There’s a lot brewing.”
“Lovely.”
Amy hung up the phone and hurried to get ready. After grabbing her purse, she knocked on her father’s door then waited a moment for him to answer. Nothing. “Dad?” She peeked her head inside.
He looked up from his cell phone. “Yes, honey?”
“I have to leave for work now.”
His gaze shifted back to the phone in his hand. “Okay. Have a good day. See you at the meeting tonight.”
“Right.” She gave him another quick glance, trying to figure out why he looked like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Strange. But just another in a long line of odd happenings, of late.
She made the drive into town, for the first time noticing the flowers blooming along the highway. Had she really been so busy that she’d overlooked the transition from spring to summer? Crazy. She wanted things to slow down, for life to go back to normal. Somehow she had the feeling “normal” was a thing of the past. Just a setting on the dryer, as her mother used to say.
After arriving at City Hall, Amy made her way to Eula Mae’s desk. She found her on the phone, whispering what sounded like sweet nothings. Well, if you could call it whispering. Woody must surely be on the other end of the line, because her words of love were actually shouted.
“Sorry, Woody,” Eula Mae hollered into the phone. “I have to go. Amy’s here now.” After a lengthy pause she repeated, “Amy, not gravy. And stop talking about food. You’ll get your breakfast soon enough, and in the meantime I’ll make a couple of calls to see if they can locate your missing teeth.”
Eula Mae ended the call and looked at Amy with a smile. “Poor old guy. I guess they took his teeth away while he’s on the morphine. I’m thinking that’s why he doesn’t want me down there. He’s embarrassed.”
“Aw, can’t say as I blame him,” Amy said. “But if you really care about him…” She gave Eula Mae a pensive look. “And I’m assuming from your reaction to his accident that you do…then why would he care if you see him without his teeth?”
“Personally, I would never let the woman I love see me without my teeth.” Steve’s happy-go-lucky voice chimed in.
Amy turned to face him, doing her best not to laugh. “Oh?”
“Mm-hmm.” He pulled her close, pretending to be toothless, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “See how awkward that is?”
Amy laughed. “Very. But I’ll still love you even when you are old and toothless.” Whoa. Did I really just say that out loud?
Steve’s eyes widened. “I’m taking that to the bank,” he whispered in her ear.
As he loosened his hold on her, Amy stepped back, her face hot with embarrassment. Her words had been presumptuous, considering that Steve had never really opened up and shared his feelings with her. Not really. Had she blown it by using the “L” word so soon?
Off in the distance Eula Mae cleared her throat.
“I hate to break up this little lovefest, but we’re on government property. Don’t think we’re supposed to be smooching in here. It’s probably against the law or something.”
“Guess that kiss you and Woody shared last Friday afternoon in the storage room will have to stay a secret, then.” Steve gave Eula Mae a peck on the cheek. “And don’t tell anyone I just did that, either. I don’t want to be ticketed for impulsive kissing.”
Her wrinkled cheeks flushed. “Heavens. I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I thought so.” Steve laughed. “But speaking of Woody, how’s he doing today? When I left the hospital last night he was sleeping like a baby. Talking in his sleep too.”
“About the Mustang or me?” Eula Mae asked.
“Neither. Something about the play, actually. He was giving stage directions.”
“Figures.” A hint of a smile creased the edges of Eula’s Mae’s lips. “I’ve already talked to him four times this morning. He’s as ornery as ever.” A giggle framed her next words. “He is a mess under the best of circumstances, but he sounds so funny when he’s on medication. You wouldn’t believe some of the nutty stories he told me on the phone just now. Sounded more like Sarge than Woody.”
“How long is it going to be before he’s up and around?” Amy asked. She held her breath, hoping for a positive answer…not just for the sake of the show, but for Woody’s sake as well.
“He can’t drive until the cast is off,” Eula Mae said. “So I’m his designated driver till then.” She grinned. “I’ve been dying to get my hands on that Mustang for years.”
“Well, while we’ve got it, let’s get that old car fixed up so it passes inspection,” Steve said. “And try to locate those traffic tickets he got from O’Reilly. I’ve heard all about them. Three times, no less.”
“Me too.” Amy shook her head. “I guess this is as good a time as any to help out a brother in need. Might ease my conscience a little too.”
“Ease your conscience?” Eula Mae gave her a funny look. “You feeling guilty about something?”
“About everything. If I hadn’t come up with this idea—”
“Stop right there,” Steve put his hand up. “You do this guilt trip thing a lot, and this time I’m not going along for the ride. Sorry.”
“Excuse me?”
“Not going there,” he repeated. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But…” She bit back the words.
“No buts. Woody was at that rehearsal because he wanted to be.”
“Heavens, yes.” Eula Mae practically beamed. “Why, this musical is the highlight of his life. I’ve heard all about it.” She giggled. “And besides—not that I’m saying his accident was a good thing, mind you—but with Woody in the passenger seat, I’ll have a captive audience for the first time in years.”
“Mm-hmm.” Amy narrowed her gaze. “So that’s how it is.”
“That’s how it is.” A girlish giggle erupted. “I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud. Our relationship has been years in the making. Years. And for the longest time I couldn’t admit it to anyone but myself.”
“So what made you open up?” Amy asked. “How did you both finally decide to confess your feelings?”
A shimmer of tears filled Eula Mae’s eyes. “I think we’ve both known for ages…but we’re both so stubborn and set in our ways. When you’ve been alone for years, it’s hard to admit that you have a need for someone else. You’d rather have folks think you’re self-sufficient.” Her gaze shifted to the floor. “But I’m not self-sufficient. Not even close. It’s all an act. The reality is, I want to experience love again before I die. Firsthand, no holds barred. So I’m putting it all out there with Woody.”
Amy grabbed Eula Mae’s hand. “Well, I’m glad you are. And it couldn’t happen to two nicer people.” She followed her words with a warm embrace.
From across the room Steve gave her a little wink, causing her heart to flutter.
See? He might not say it, but he shows it.
“Thanks, honey.” Eula Mae returned her squeeze. “And just for the record, I’m glad to see you two have finally come to your senses. I would’ve hated to see you waste as many years as Woody and I did.” After a pause she reached down and picked up a couple of pink sticky notes from her desk. “I hate to change the subject, but we’ve got some serious wrangling to do before tonight’s meeting.”
“What’s happened?” Amy asked.
“Well, everything was so chaotic yesterday, we decided not to bother you with it.”
“We?” Amy looked at Steve, her heart rate quickening. “This is something you know about too?”
“Yeah.” His expression shifted, and she could read the concern in his eyes. “Some guys came through town yesterday afternoon just before the rehearsal, asking several of our residents about their property. They want to build in the area.”
“Build what?”
Steve sighed.
“One of them said he wants to build an outlet mall. He already talked to Grady about that vacant lot next to the hardware store. That property’s been in Grady’s family for years and they’ve never wanted to build on it because of the view. Now he’s thinking about selling. Or so he said.”
“Ugh.” A shiver ran down Amy’s spine. “Can you even imagine all of those beautiful trees being cut down?”
“No. But that’s only half the story,” Eula Mae said. “The other fellow wants to build a movie theater in town near the diner.” Her eyes lit up. “Not that I’m totally opposed to that idea. Sure would beat having to drive to Knoxville to see a show.”
“Still…” Amy shook her head, her thoughts tumbling. “I don’t know how I feel about all of this. An RV park is one thing, but malls? Movie theaters? What’s next, a sports stadium?”
Steve shrugged. “We have to be realistic. The more people we draw in, the more we’ll need to accommodate them. We’re talking about a huge change to our little town, here. Far more than just a theater.”
Amy groaned. “I’ve created a monster.”
“Don’t look at it that way,” Steve said. “It’s a happy monster, at least for now. It hasn’t gobbled us up just yet. And the way I see it, what those investors want to build is nothing compared to what God is building in us, so we have to keep that in mind.”
“What do you mean?” Amy asked.
“Don’t you see? He’s put all of this together. And he’s built our little community into a real family—one we can be proud of.”
“I know.” Amy paused to think about his words. “You’re right, and I’m really not complaining, trust me. It’s just that so much is happening so fast. Sometimes I feel like I got the cart before the horse, as my grandpa used to say. And I don’t mind admitting I’m a little worried about the final outcome here. If all these newcomers sweep in and buy up our land, it’s just a matter of time before—”
“I’m with Amy,” Eula Mae interrupted. “I’d rather err on the side of caution. We need to bring this up at the meeting tonight and ask everyone not to do anything rash. I, for one, don’t want the town sold off inch by inch. Could be we all wake up one morning to find out it’s owned by strangers.”
Love at Center Stage: Three Theatrical Love Stories Page 48