Page 76 of The Small-Town Seduction Plan

“She was just in the bathroom,” one of the kids offers.

“I’ll go,” I volunteer quickly. “I’m sure it’s just some last-minute jitters!”

I speedwalk across the green, weaving through theater troupes and the audience, settled with blankets and picnics on the grass. A dramatic Hamlet monologue is just coming to an end at the gazebo, which means I need to find Juliet, and fast.

“Hey!” Tessa and Jackson are just unpacking their lawn chairs, with Artie in tow. “How’s it going?”

“Great! Can’t stop, enjoy the show!” I call, speeding on. I’m surprised at just how many faces in the crowd are familiar to me now, as I wave to people on my way over to the Town Hall. It’s being used for makeshift dressing rooms, and is just as much a madhouse as the scenes outside.

“Emily?” I call, looking for her amongst the racks of clothing and boxes of props. I find her in a corner, dressed up in the simple long nightgown and robe for her balcony scene. She’s clutching her script pages with trembling hands, looking pale and queasy.

“I can’t do it!” she wails, seeing me. “I can’t go on.”

“Yes, you can.” I try to be reassuring. “Stage fright is part of the deal! I get it all the time. But I promise you, the minute you step out there in front of everyone, all the fear will melt away. And if it doesn’t… well, that’s why they call it acting. You’ll just pretend!”

But Emily isn’t convinced. “Everyone will laugh at me,” she sniffs, teary-eyed. “And what if Cade screws up? You saw him in rehearsals, he just cares about looking cool.”

“He’s been taking it seriously in rehearsals this week,” I argue. “And you look so good. Come on,” I beckon, eyeing my watch. But Emily is still sniffling, and we don’t have time for a long, drawn-out pep talk, so I try a different tactic, instead.

“OK,” I agree, straightening up, “If you can’t do it, then give me your costume. The understudy can go on instead.”

Emily’s head snaps up. “What?”

“Lulu, wasn’t that her name?” I ask, bluffing. “I’m sure she’d love the chance. Performing in front of a real crowd, being centerstage… quickly, we need that costume.”

Sure enough, Emily shoots to her feet. “I’m fine,” she says, wiping at her face. “She’s not taking my part!”

“Attagirl.” I grin. There’s nothing like a little friendly competition to move things along. “Hurry now, before Romeo decides to skip straight to his death scene!”

We make it back to the stage area just in time– and their performance goes off without a hitch. Well, OK, maybe there are a few flubbed lines and missed cues, but by the time the cast line up to take their bows to a massive round of applause, everyone’s smiling and exhilarated.

Well, almost.

“Remind me never to volunteer for anything again!” Suze wails, collapsing into a nearby lawn chair. The kids rush offstage, and go to celebrate with their families and friends– leaving us adults to clear and pack everything away. “I’ve aged ten years in the past week!”

“More like twenty,” Duke teases, and Suze pokes him with one of the swords.

“Didn’t you already sign up to run the Christmas production?” Lori asks, greeting her with a kiss.

“I need to invent time travel just to go back and throttle Past Me,” Suze sighs. “She was so young, and full of naïve dreams.”

I laugh. “You did a great job,” I say, congratulating her. “They really pulled it off in the end.”

“They did, didn’t they?” Suze says proudly. “But we couldn’t have done it without you.”

“What? I didn’t do anything,” I protest. “Duke’s the one who’s been hauling scenery around. Scenery he built with his own two hands.”

“Thank you,” Duke speaks up, from where he’s dismantling background flats. “It’s nice to know someone appreciates my skills.”

Oh, I do.

“You’re great, whatever,” Suze dismisses him playfully. “But Avery, you’ve been a real inspiration for them. I don’t know what you said to Emily, but I didn’t think she had a performance like that in her!”

“Oh, I just threatened to give the role to her understudy, instead.” I grin. “Trust me, nothing fuels an actress like pure spite. I was running a 103º fever the night of my middle school production of Scrooge,” I add, “but I still went on rather than let Rhian Tibbetts take the lead instead.”

“That’s my petty, spiteful girl.” Duke leans over to give me an affectionate kiss.

“You know, I could use some help for the next theater production, too…” Suze eyes me determinedly. “If you’re around for the holidays.”

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