The best way to get through her day was to keep busy. Which was good, because as the Dinner Theater’s opening night approached, there were still a million details to work out. First of which was selling tickets. The ticket sales website had been published for over a week, and not a single ticket had been bought. Trying not to panic, Marianne reasoned: they were new to the theater scene. People wouldn’t necessarily be scanning the Inn’s website looking for theater opportunities. They needed to link to other theater sites where their customers might be looking. That was her task for today: research other places on the web where she could link their page and draw interest.
She pulled up the Admin section of the ticket sales page, as she’d done every day since it went live. She gasped, then leaned closer to the screen to make sure she was seeing this right.
There were ticket sales! Unlike every other day when it said zero sales, there were now over twenty confirmed purchases to come see their dinner theater.
This thing just got real.
* * *
Marianne sat in the dining room, watching the rehearsals. Leslie and the Music Director called up the traveling salesmen for the opening scene of the show. The actors sat on a make-believe train, bouncing in unison in their seats as the train clacked down the tracks. The song was performed in rhythmic speaking voices all in unison. Words and rhythm and pace, all equally important to pull this challenging number off, all had to be exactly in sync. But they’d rehearsed it numerous times, and the adult actors in the scene were getting it. Marianne’s heart raced, loving the quality of the production, her production.
At the end of the scene, they had to leave a blank spot for the big reveal of Professor Harold Hill, the con man who was on the train looking for the location of his next con. Because of course, they hadn’t cast Harold yet. Or Marian, the local librarian he falls in love with.
Leslie moved them straight from the end of the train number into the first big musical number of the show, “Iowa Stubborn.” The townspeople of River City strolled across the stage which, when done, would be decorated with beautifully painted sets featuring the wholesome streets of a typical Iowa town in 1912. They would eventually be dressed in period costumes, the women in long modest long dresses, the men in full suits. This wasn’t a dress rehearsal, but the costumes had arrived on loan from the community theater in Myrtle Beach. In fact, the garment bags were heaped in a corner of the dining room and needed to be sorted and passed out to the actors. She reached for her notebook and jotted it down. She and Leslie would have to do that, maybe tomorrow night after practice.
Tom came in, saw her and walked over. He stood beside her chair, his head lifted to the singers on stage. She tried to ignore him, but finally looked up and saw a pleased smile on his face.
When the number completed, Tom applauded and made his way closer to the stage. “Sounds great, sounds great, everyone. Thanks for all your hard work on this. I’m Tom, and my wife Marianne and I own the Inn. This is the first time we’ve even considered doing a dinner theater, so you guys are part of history being made here. Best of luck, break a leg, and let’s all hope for a long run.”
He smiled as the cast applauded, showing their appreciation for his supportive message, and he turned and came back to Leslie’s table. She fixed him with an eyebrows-up glare.
“What?”
“You vetoed the idea! If it weren’t for me being persistent, we wouldn’t even be doing the show.”
He laughed. “You’re right. And in this case, I’m glad you pushed back on me. I wasn’t thinking creatively enough. Time to jump outside the box and try something new. They sound really, really good! I take no credit for it. You guys have all worked really hard. Congratulations.”
Marianne shook her head. “It’s definitely coming along.” Behind them, the children launched into a rehearsal of “Seventy-Six Trombones,” minus Harold’s solo.
“How are ticket sales looking?” Tom asked, always interested in the bottom line.
“Good. Amazingly good. In fact, we’re getting consistent reservations, more every day.”
“Great.” He smiled at her and then ambled out of the dining room.
But it wasn’t great, Marianne thought. Well, it was. It was great that people were showing interest and reserving their seats for what would hopefully be the best show in town. But it wasn’t, because they had no leads. Which made Marianne sweat with panic each time she allowed herself to think about it. Whoever heard of a top-rate production with just the supporting cast? They had to secure their leads, now, or else they couldn’t proceed with Opening Night as planned. The cast was already over 50% rehearsed. The rate they were going, they would be ready to perform in two weeks.
Marianne sighed and went to find her computer. She’d gotten accustomed to finding no responses to her ad for actors. But it was time for Plan B. If she hadn’t gotten a response today, she’d have to think of something else.
She pulled up her email program and scanned through her Inbox. Towards the top, there it was. An email with the Subject Line: Music Man lead role. Her hands shaking, she moved her cursor there and clicked on it. As it opened, she closed her eyes and prayed that it was not just an inquiry. That it was a bona fide, qualified actor who had researched the role, and the location and the terms of the job, and was honestly looking for a chance.
She took a deep breath, let it out and opened her eyes.
The email had only arrived ten minutes ago, and it was from a woman named Roxanne Frazier. It read, “Dear Ms. Mueller, I am writing to express my interest in the role of Marian Paroo in your dinner theater production of The Music Man. I have been a member of the Actor’s Equity for four years, and I have worked professionally in New York City for three of those four years. I sing, I dance, I act. You name it. I’ve attached my headshot so you can see if you visualize me in the role. I’ve also attached my professional resume so you can see everything I’ve done. But there’s something about spending the spring and possibly summer at a seaside inn in a beach town that really speaks to my tired soul. This girl’s tired of the city, the traffic, the hustle bustle. I think working in Pawleys Island is exactly what I need.”
Marianne immediately clicked on the attachments and stared into the eyes of a beautiful, blonde, fit twenty-something smiling back at her. And read about the accomplishments of this prolific actress over the last few years. She’d done musical theater, not on Broadway, but off-Broadway and even did a four-month stint in a traveling ensemble of The Wedding Singer.
And best of all, she was interested!
Without hesitation, she picked up the phone and punched out the number Roxanne had listed in her email. It rang three times and then a harried, “Hello,” shouted over the line. In the background, the sound of heavy traffic filled the void, horns honking, voices shouting.
“Hello? Roxanne Frazier?”
“Yes. Who’s this? I’m sorry, I can barely hear you. I’m walking through traffic.”
Marianne laughed, her heart soaring. “Well, you won’t find that kind of noise and traffic out here at the beach. Just peace and serenity.”
There was a pause. “Oh my gosh, is this Ms. Mueller?”
“Marianne. Yes.”
“I just sent my resume from the Starbucks on the corner. Like twenty minutes ago.”
“Perfect timing! I’d love to meet you.”
“Really?” The happiness in the woman’s voice radiated through the connection.
“Yes, really.”
“For an audition?”
Marianne hesitated. Was an audition even necessary? This woman had a resume a mile long. If all those qualified directors in the Big Apple had auditioned and selected her, who was she to turn her down? She looked the part, and Marianne’s show needed its Marian.
“Let me ask you this, do you know any of the music from The Music Man?”
“What, are you kidding? Of course I do. It’s one of my favorite musicals of all time.”
Marianne chuckled
. “Sing me something.”
“What, right now?”
“Yep.”
It only took Roxanne five seconds to launch into “Till There Was You,” the sentimental love song between Marian and Harold. And it only took Marianne five seconds to know, without a doubt, that she had found her Marian. The rest of the song, she just closed her eyes and savored it.
When she finished, Marianne heard what she assumed was a taxi horn. “That was beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Have you played Marian before?”
“No, but it’s always been a dream role of mine. Another reason why I’m so interested in your production.”
“You say New York’s starting to get to you?”
The woman sighed. “You could say that. I’m not from here originally. I’m here following my dream. It’s … hard. I need a break. But I want to keep performing.”
“Roxanne … you may think I’m crazy but … will you come to Pawleys Island and play Marian?”
She screamed. “That’s it? I’m hired?”
Marianne laughed. “You’re perfect. And I need you. You saw the terms listed on my posting. You have any problems with those?”
“Hmmm, let’s see. Free room and board in a vacation resort. Performing two, three nights a week, and the rest of the week to sunbathe and sightsee. And a little pocket money to boot? No. I don’t have a problem with that.”
They discussed logistics — Marianne would email her the abridged script and Roxanne would begin memorizing it immediately. Marianne would book her a one-way airline ticket just as soon as she could get one, and send her the arrangements.
“Oh, one other thing,” Marianne said. “Do you happen to know a Harold?”
Chapter Fifteen
It only took four days to get Roxanne to Pawleys. Marianne packed Stella in the car and drove to the Myrtle Beach Airport to pick her up. Stella spotted her the minute she walked into sight, due to Marianne sharing Roxanne’s headshot with her. In Stella’s mind, Roxanne was a huge celebrity and this was the most exciting thing that had ever happened in her five years. Her little girl adulation of their arriving Marian Paroo bordered on obsessive.
Marianne handed her daughter the sign that Stella had finished creating less than an hour ago, the name “ROXANNE” surrounded by colorful flowers and birds. Stella held it high above her head, and to further aid Roxanne in locating them, she jumped up and down in place as well.
Roxanne laughed and waved. She approached them and Stella said excitedly, “Hi Roxanne!”
Roxanne squatted so she was more Stella’s height. “Hi! Thanks for coming to pick me up.”
Marianne held her hand out and helped her up. “I’m Marianne and this is my daughter, Stella. We’re both so excited to have you here.”
“And I couldn’t be more excited to be here. I believe the temperature rose at least twenty five degrees from New York to here, and I’m assuming I won’t see a traffic jam or breathe any smog.”
They got her luggage, piled into the car and drove the short distance to Pawleys, Stella doing her fair share of chatter and Marianne trying to get to know her star as best she could in Stella’s gaps. When they reached the bridge that led across to the island, Roxanne moaned. “Oh my, it’s so beautiful. I mean, look at it!”
Marianne smiled. Despite growing up and living her whole life on the island, she tried to never take for granted the beauty of her surroundings. “Are you a beach fan?”
Roxanne looked embarrassed. “Believe it or not, I haven’t travelled much. I can’t honestly say I’ve done much beach time. I grew up in Ohio, and I moved to New York. That’s it.”
“Wow,” Marianne murmured. She couldn’t imagine a life without the ocean and sand and sunsets. “You’ll have plenty of time to explore and become a beach lover.”
When they arrived at the Inn, Stella and Marianne helped Roxanne carry her bags in. Marianne told her daughter, “She’ll be in Room 10, Stella.”
“Okay!” she replied excitedly. She loved helping, and she led the way importantly to the upstairs guest rooms. Marianne handed her the key and she unlocked the #10 door, swung it open and stepped back.
Roxanne winked at Stella and stepped past her, into the room. Marianne watched her examine the room and tried to see it as Roxanne would. The bleached wood floors and paneling, paired with the oceanfront window, caused the sun to come in and bathe the whole room with warmth and light. The two double beds with matching peach and mint-colored spreads. The rocking chair in the corner with the small table beside, an invitation to come and read or rest. Two doors led to a small bath, and a tiny closet. It was the essence of modest coziness.
The New York resident turned in a circle, her eyes lit up with excitement. If Marianne had a split second of worry that it wasn’t up to standard, she relaxed quickly. Roxanne appeared to love it.
“It’s perfect. Can I just say thank you very much for picking me for this job? It’s so what the doctor ordered right now, I can’t even tell you what a needed break this is. I’m so thankful for this opportunity, I’m going to work my butt off to be the absolute best Marian you’ve ever seen!” She covered the steps between them and pulled Marianne into an embrace so genuine, Marianne breathed a word of thanks to God for leading her to this girl.
They chatted a moment about the room, and then Marianne dragged a beaming Stella out of the room. “You’ve had a busy day of travel, and you’ve got several hours now to rest, to get settled in, to check out the beach, whatever. Just so you know, you’re welcome in the dining room for three meals a day, 8:30, 1:15 and 6:15. Rehearsals are at 7:30. We’ll be fitting your costumes over the next few days, and we’re shooting for Opening Night in a little over a week. Any questions whatsoever, please just let me know. I’m always around. Tonight I’ll introduce you to the directors and the rest of the cast.”
Roxanne smiled. “I think I’m going to love it here.”
“We’re so glad you joined us.”
Marianne was floating high all day with the addition of Roxanne to the cast. She invited Leslie to have dinner at the Inn before rehearsal, so she, Leslie and Roxanne could get to know each other over the meal. When the three of them gathered in the dining room, Marianne put one hand on Leslie’s arm and one on Roxanne’s.
“Leslie, this is Roxanne. She’s joining the cast today as Marian!”
Leslie beamed a smile at Roxanne and grasped her hand. “So happy to have you, Roxanne. You look perfect for Marian.”
Roxanne laughed. “Well, thank you very much. I love this play and I’ve always wanted to play Marian, so this is a dream come true for me.”
“What musicals have you been in before?” Leslie asked and Marianne slid a copy of Roxanne’s resume over toward her plate. Leslie picked it up and studied it. “Oh my goodness. You have some great experience. And I see you’re joining us from an off-Broadway show in New York? However did we get so lucky to secure you? I know Marianne can be persuasive, but how exactly did she pull this off?”
Roxanne’s smile mellowed. “Have you ever just felt like going off the beaten path? Like the way your life is headed may have been exactly what you planned for yourself, but once you got there you realized it’s not what you wanted?”
Leslie’s mouth dropped and she gazed over at Marianne, then back to Roxanne. “Oh, you have no idea.” The two of them laughed. “In answer, yes, I have felt exactly that way, and followed my whim and ended up with my life taking a completely opposite turn. And I’ve never been happier.”
Roxanne nodded. “I needed a change. Quickly. And this job posting just spoke to me. In fact, it grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. So I sent an email, and figured, if it’s meant to be, it’ll be. Twenty minutes later, I get a phone call with a job offer. And here I am.”
Leslie patted her hand. “Do you believe in God, dear?”
Roxanne shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I don’t not believe. But I’m not a staunch believer, if you know what
I mean.”
Leslie held a hand up. “Not a problem. It just sounded an awful lot like God’s hand directing your life. Something I’ve had a lot of experience with. Regardless, we’re happy you’re here.”
They all enjoyed a low country dinner of Jambalaya over red rice, a fresh green salad and cornbread. They shared stories and by the end of the meal, the conversation came back to the dinner theater.
“If you serve food like this along with the performance, you’ll have lines out the door and we’ll have to increase to five shows a week,” Roxanne said.
“I’m lucky to have one of the best chefs in town, and he makes at least ten meals a week — all this good. He’s responsible for all dinners, and half the lunches. I have a second chef responsible for breakfasts and half the lunches. I can attest to the food’s tastiness. I’ve gained twelve pounds since I hired them.”
“I’ll have to be careful then, so I don’t have to let out my costumes.”
“Daily walks on the beach help out with burning calories,” Leslie said.
Marianne pulled her notebook, never far from her, over. “All my details are coming together. Ticket sales are good. We’re sold out for the first weekend, rehearsals are on schedule, costumes are here, just need to be fitted. And we have our Marian! Roxanne, how many rehearsals do you think you’ll need your script?”
“None. I memorized it all.”
Marianne gestured a “whew” to Leslie, who said, “Hey, she’s a pro.”
“There’s just one big fat hole. And it’s Harold. We haven’t cast Harold yet, and he’s such an important part. Obviously. He’s the title role. He is the Music Man. We can’t proceed without him.” She placed a pleading glance on Roxanne. “Do you know of anyone in New York you could convince to come? Even if they can’t commit to the whole run, just for the first few weekends? Anyone at all from your musical theater connections?”
Pawleys Island Paradise boxset, Books 1 - 3 Page 61