Wedding Belles
Page 6
“We don’t know that for sure. Could be she’s making the whole thing up.”
He shook his head, more determined than ever. “You and I both know that’s not the case. You can tell by looking at her, she’s been hardened by her life in the theater. But maybe God will round out those rough edges if we take the time to include her in the development of the show.”
“And what if I come across looking like a fool?” Horror crossed Lottie’s face. “Is that what you want? I’m already humbled enough, setting myself up as a director when I’ve never directed a show before.”
“I know, I know. But I still think it’s better to look a little foolish in front of one cranky woman than in front of a roomful of paying customers.”
“Humph.” Lottie leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes. “This discussion is over, Gil. I’ve had enough drama for one day. Well, until auditions this evening. Then the on-stage drama begins.”
He gave her a moment to calm down before sharing his thoughts on that matter. “I still don’t see why we couldn’t just assign the parts,” he said at last. “I mean, you know the script better than anyone. Why not just give each lady a part without going through the rigmarole of auditions?”
Her eyes popped open and she glared at him in her usual Lottielike way. “Because they’re real actresses, Gil. They’ll think this is some sort of sham if we don’t hold auditions. I’m already completely unnerved. No point in making things worse.”
“Well, for now, I’m glad the women are safely tucked in their rooms, with Mama looking out for them. She’ll have them all happy and well-fed in no time.”
“Well-fed?” Lottie groaned. “You know what she’s made for supper, right? Venison stew.”
“Ack.” Well, that was concerning. “Maybe they’ll overlook her poor cooking in favor of her personality.”
“One can hope.” Lottie’s eyes fluttered closed again and Gilbert spent a moment examining her face as she rested. The cute way her nose tipped up. The high cheekbones. The delicate lips. Yes, Lottie Sanders was all girl. And she looked mighty fine in that dress too. Maybe he could talk her into going along with the fellas on this idea of dolling up for the show. Folks would come from all over the county to see her dressed as a true lady.
He knew he would, anyway.
“What are you staring at?” Her voice rang out, but her eyes never opened.
“Staring at?” He played innocent but wondered why his heart skipped a beat.
“I can feel you looking at me.” Her eyes opened and she squinted as she turned his way. “What? Do I have dirt on my face or something?”
“Oh, I, um…” Gilbert reached to run his index finger along her cheek, feeling its softness. “There.” He pretended to brush something away. “All clean now.”
“Hmm.” She closed her eyes again and grew silent.
He was determined to stay focused on the matter at hand. No point in wondering what Lottie would be like as a full-fledged woman.
* * * * *
LOTTIE AND GILBERT HEADED BACK up to the lodge to speak with his mother. They found her in the dining hall, sweeping the large area that had been converted into a stage.
“Well, hello you two.” She rested her broom against the wall. “Wondered where you’d gotten off to. At the river, no doubt.”
“Needed a few minutes to clear my head,” Lottie said. A yawn followed.
“Can’t say I blame you there. Those women are a piece of work, aren’t they? But you can rest easy, Lottie. They’re all settled into their rooms now.”
“Wonderful news,” Lottie said. “How did that process go?”
“Well, Flossie and Fanny are staying in the Knotty Pines room,” Mrs. Parker reported. “Ironic, since that cranky Flossie has about the naughtiest disposition I’ve ever seen.” She laughed. “Several of the younger women—Grace and a handful of others—are in the Cedar Lodge room. Margaret…” She snapped her fingers. “Linden. Yes, Margaret Linden of the Manhattan Lindens did not care for Cedar Lodge, so I’ve shifted her to the Chalet Suite, along with Hygiene Hannah.”
“Hygiene Hannah?” Gilbert quirked a brow.
Lottie gave Mrs. Parker a funny look. “Why do you call her that?”
“She’s scared of dirt, and that scares me. Never met a woman so afraid of her surroundings.”
“Ah. She did seem a bit particular in that way,” Lottie said.
“Particular?” Mrs. Parker let out an unladylike snort. “She had plenty to say about the condition of the Chalet Suite, and none of it good. I spent hours getting that room ready, but apparently it’s not clean enough to suit her.”
“Hmm.” Lottie found herself at a loss. “What can we do?”
“She’ll just have to get used to it. I daresay all of the women will acclimate in time.” Mrs. Parker put her hand to her heart. “Well, maybe not the trio with the low-cut gowns. What were their names again?”
“Sharla, Patricia, and Cherry.” Lottie sighed. “I have a feeling they’re going to be a handful.”
“More like an eyeful, if you ask me.” Gil laughed. “The fellas are already taking dibs on who will end up marrying them.”
“Can’t say as they seem like the marrying sort,” Mrs. Parker said. “Though it’s not my place to judge.”
“What about Cornelia…that really pretty girl with the gorgeous eyes?” Gilbert asked, appearing a little too interested. “Where did you put her?”
Lottie did her best not to groan aloud.
Mrs. Parker quirked a brow. “I put her in the River’s Edge room with that really timid gal. What’s her name again?”
“Prudy,” Lottie said. “Actually, Prudence, but she goes by Prudy.”
“Well, I think she and Cornelia will get along well, though they are opposites in most every respect. And I have a feeling Prudy will find the sound of the rushing water soothing as she tries to sleep.”
“Good,” Lottie said. “That poor girl doesn’t look like she’s slept well in ages.”
“She’ll sleep like a baby here. No doubt about it. And if the ladies really do stay on through the fall and winter, they can use the fireplaces to stay warm.” Mrs. Parker reached for her broom and began to sweep once again.
Before long Lottie headed to Gilbert’s office to gather the scripts for the night’s auditions. When she entered the dining hall just before dinner, she found Fanny and Flossie talking to Mrs. Parker and Gilbert.
“Oh, you precious, precious girl!” Fanny squeezed Lottie’s hand. “This place you’ve brought us to is spectacular in every way. I’ve never seen such lovely views. Simply breathtaking.”
Flossie grunted. “One would think you’d never been outdoors, Fanny.”
“I’ve never been outdoors…like this. Why, already I’ve seen deer and a moose.”
“Elk,” Gilbert said.
“Elk.” Fanny clutched her hands to her chest. “With giant tusks.”
“Antlers.”
“And the birds! Oh, they’re lovely. I’ve never seen such variety. I would like to close my eyes and capture it all. Commit it to memory.”
Flossie clucked her tongue. “Keep your eyes open and you’ll stand a better chance of not falling in the creek.”
“Actually, it’s a river,” Gilbert said. “Fall River.”
“Not very deep.” Flossie’s nose wrinkled. “Or wide.”
“At least if we fall in Fall River, we won’t drown!” Fanny giggled. “Oh, that’s priceless. Fall in Fall River.”
Flossie rolled her eyes. “Sister, how you do go on.”
From across the room, Mrs. Parker rang the dinner bell. All the women gathered around and were soon joined by Augie, Jeb, Chauncy, and Phineas.
“Do they work here too?” Grace asked, her gaze on Chauncy.
“Nah,” Lottie said. “But they usually show up around suppertime.”
“No wives to cook for them?” Fanny asked. When Lottie shook her head, Fanny whispered, “Well, the food must be good,
then. Keeps ’em coming back for more.”
Hardly. But this probably wouldn’t be the time to mention it.
The ladies gathered in a line at the front of the room, and Mrs. Parker dished up heaping bowls of the steaming venison stew. Once all the ladies were seated, Gilbert rose and removed his hat then offered up the blessing.
Cornelia appeared startled. “Can’t remember the last time I heard a man pray,” she said. “ ’Less you count the reverend at the church I visited as a youngster.” She gave Gilbert an admiring smile, one he returned straightaway with his boyish dimples now prominent.
“That young fella has a nice speaking voice.” Fanny pointed at Gil. “I could tell by the way he prayed. Nice projection. Good tone.” She squinted and gave him an inquisitive look. “I daresay he would do just fine on the stage. And this show’s gonna need a hero, is it not?”
“Oh, well, I…” To be honest, Lottie had been so preoccupied with the female roles that she hadn’t really thought about the men’s parts. “I think some of the other fellas are hoping they’ll get to play a role.” She gestured to Augie and the others.
“Those men?” Hannah shook her head. “Can’t imagine a one of them as hero material, to be quite honest.”
“Looks can often be deceiving.” This time it was Prudy who chimed in, though her words were so quiet Lottie had to strain to make them out.
The women dove into their food—eagerly at first, but then with what appeared to be some trepidation after they’d had a few bites.
“What did you call this again?” Hannah pushed her bowl back as if it held poison.
“Venison stew.” Lottie pretended to take another bite.
“Ah.” Hannah stared at it. “Can’t say as I’ve ever had anything like it.”
The other ladies agreed, and none of them ate much.
Thank goodness the chocolate pie that followed dinner proved quite tasty. The women ate it like they might never eat again.
As soon as dinner ended, several locals—mostly men and children—showed up to audition. Lottie rose and addressed the crowd, ready to get the auditions under way.
“Folks, thank you all for coming. Please take the time to fill out the audition forms and to prepare yourselves. I’ve got a handful of audition scripts here.” She pointed to the table, her nerves suddenly kicking in.
The ladies grabbed the forms and went to work, filling them out. Cornelia approached, a concerned expression on her face. “Looking at this form, I can see that signing on the dotted line means I’ll be committing to stay through late November. Six months.”
“Well, there’s nothing legally binding,” Lottie assured her. “And if for some reason, you feel you simply can’t stay, we’ll certainly understand. I’ll be disappointed, but I’ll understand.”
“Just one question…” Fanny next took a few steps in Lottie’s direction, her brow wrinkled. “The woman who prepared the meal tonight—Mrs. Parker—is she, well, is she going to be doing all the cooking? This might affect my decision, I’m afraid to say.”
Lottie lowered her voice. “Gilbert and I have already spoken about this and will come up with a plan. Trust me when I say that you won’t starve. In the meantime…” She glanced Mrs. Parker’s way. “Please spread the word to the women that they can meet in the kitchen at midnight for a snack. I’ll make sure there’s something available every night, starting tomorrow night.” She lowered her voice another notch. “But this has to be between us, all right?”
“A woman never divulges her food sources, honey.” Fanny slapped herself on the rump and laughed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to warm up my voice before auditioning. It’s something Flossie and I always do, you see.” She gestured at several of the other women. “Looks like we’re not the only ones.”
Off to the side of the room Grace did some dance warm-ups, stretching and bending in elegant style. A couple of the women sang “la-la-la,” in an attempt to warm up their voices, no doubt. Sharla, Patricia, and Cherry did a funny little dance that involved kicking their legs up in the air. Cornelia stood off in the corner rehearsing some sort of speech. Fanny joined her sister and they began to rehearse a fascinating scene about a mother and daughter. Lottie couldn’t make heads or tails out of what they were doing but found it all intriguing.
“I can’t tell if those two sisters are fighting for real or acting out some sort of a scene,” Mrs. Parker whispered as she dropped into the empty seat next to Lottie.
“Surely they’re acting. Flossie looks worked up.”
“That’s what makes me think it might be real.” Jeb took the seat to Lottie’s left. “Bossy Flossie. That’s what I’m calling her. That woman has an attitude, to be sure.”
Hannah closed her eyes and paced, her lips moving but with no sound coming out.
“Do you suppose she’s praying?” Mrs. Parker’s brow wrinkled.
“I haven’t got a clue. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Lottie clapped her hands to get the group’s attention once more. “Time to begin, everyone. Grab your scripts and let’s get going.”
Mrs. Parker disappeared into the kitchen and Gilbert took her seat next to Lottie. “Ready for this?” he whispered.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Cornelia went first. She did a fine job of reading for Miss Information, the heroine in the show. Unfortunately, Gil couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her. That might be problematic, particularly if she ended up playing the lead role.
Next came Margaret, who rose and approached the stage with the same air of superiority she’d exuded back in Loveland. “I’ll need a fellow to read the hero’s lines.”
Augie rose and took a few steps toward the stage, but Jeb beat him to it. “Allow me, miss.” He pulled off his hat, revealing messy hair underneath. From a few seats away, Hannah cringed.
Margaret did a fine job of reading too. In fact, so did Hannah. And Flossie. And Fanny. And all the others, even the low-cut trio, though they thrived on acting flirtatious and silly. Prudy struggled a bit with her audition. Her voice trembled as she read through the lines. Still, she wasn’t half bad.
Lottie breathed a sigh of relief when the ladies completed their auditions. Could it be that the Lord had provided just the right woman for every female role?
And the men! Though she had long accused them of being dramatic, Lottie had never guessed they might perform tolerably well on a real stage. Phineas surprised her with his somewhat convincing rendition of the evil villain. Chauncy, though bumbling at times, seemed the great comedic sidekick. And Jeb and Augie did a decent job too. So did the children and the other men from town. As the audition process drew to a close, Lottie felt hope as she never had before.
“Thank you all for coming.” She rose to face the group. “I can tell this is going to be a remarkable show. We’ll be posting a list of the cast members on Sunday at noon on the front door of the community church. That way everyone in town can see it.”
Sharla raised her hand. “Does that mean we’ll have to go to church if we want to find out what part we got?”
Hmm. Lottie thought through her response. She’d never considered the fact that the women might not be churchgoers. “If you don’t want to attend the service, you can just stop by and look at the list at noon. Will that work?”
Sharla nodded.
“Rehearsals will be four evenings a week and on Saturdays. We’ll have more information available at the first rehearsal. Thank you again for auditioning.”
As folks headed out the door, Lottie sorted through the audition forms with Gilbert looking over her shoulder. “I think that went pretty well,” he said. “Don’t you?”
“A little too well,” she said. “Makes me wonder when the ax is going to fall.”
“Ax?” He looked perplexed.
“Yes.” A shiver ran down her spine. “You know how you sometimes get that feeling just about the time you think all is going well?”
He nodded. “Yes, but you have nothin
g to worry about, Lottie.” His gaze shifted across the room to Cornelia and he rose and walked her way.
Lottie watched him leave, the heaviness in her heart returning. Flossie slipped into the empty seat next to her. “I realize you have a lot to think about right now,” the older woman said, “but I feel compelled to share something with you.”
“Oh?” Lottie braced herself.
“Yes.” Flossie released a breath. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, Lottie, but this is one of the weakest audition scripts I have ever read.” She held up her copy of Predicament at Parker Lodge. “The dialogue is stilted, the plot is contrived, and not one thing about it rings true.”
“W–what?”
Flossie clutched the script. “You promised the people an actionpacked drama.”
“Yes.” Lottie’s thoughts felt scrambled as she fought for a response, and tears stung her eyes. “I—I know.”
Flossie waved the script in the air. “You call this action-packed? It’s filled with clichés, loaded with exaggerated stereotypes, and riddled with grammatical errors.”
“Oh, I, well…”
Thank goodness Fanny arrived at that moment, just as a lone tear dribbled out of Lottie’s eye.
“Now, Flossie…” Fanny clucked her tongue. “It’s not that bad. We’ve certainly seen worse. Remember that show we did back in ’03? Terrible! We felt sure it would close before it opened to the public, remember?”
Flossie paled. “Well, yes, but…”
“Who turned things around?” Fanny looked her sister in the eyes. “You did, Flossie. You turned things around. You took the time to help that young director with his script and his directing, did you not?”
Flossie’s gaze shifted to the ground and then up to Lottie before she whispered, “Yes, I did.”
“And what did the reviewers say?” Fanny asked.
“They said it was the best show Atlantic City had seen to date.” Flossie’s hardened expression softened into something that almost resembled a smile. “Guess they liked it.”
“They loved it, and you know it.” Fanny took hold of Flossie’s arms. “There has never once been a show without flaws. Most of them need someone to step in and save the day. This poor girl just needs someone on her side.”