Page 26 of No Angels

I’ve been preparing myself to say goodbye. I’ve been regretting all the years I wasted and all the times I let her convince me she didn’t need me here.

Me: I think I might stay in Willow Creek.

The bubbles pop up then disappear, and I can tell my best friend is typing something. Even though she moved back to Ohio seven years ago, we text or talk almost every day.

Cheri: I need to see your face while you’re telling me this.

Me: So Facetime?

As soon as I send it, my phone starts ringing. When I connect, she’s there. She still has stage make-up on, her cheeks bright red and her eyeliner a dark smear across the tops of her cheeks. There’s a glass of red wine in her hand.

“Are you sure you want to stay there? You used to complain about it all the time.”

“That was almost twenty years ago. It’s nothing like I remembered.”

“What about him? Is he anything like you remembered.”

I try to be nonchalant. “Yep. Just bigger.”

“And hotter too. He’s all over the town’s Instagram page.”

“You stalked him?”

“Duh. Someone has to watch out for you. What if your old flame turned into a serial killer?”

“The things I want now are very different from the things I wanted back then. But thanks for always having my back.”

She takes a gulp of wine. “Especially Mike Callihan, right?”

I sigh. “Yeah. He’s always been something I wanted. I just didn’t always think he’d be good for me.”

“So you think he’d be good for you now?”

I blush. “Maybe.”

Her eyes widen. “So that’s what changed your mind. Spill, Bee.”

“I’m not ready to tell you everything, yet. Give me some time. I called to talk about something else.”

“Something more fascinating than a reunion?”

“So the town is buying the old theater in the middle of town. They want to turn it into a playhouse and a performing arts hub.”

She takes another swig and drains her glass. “What’s that have to do with you?”

“The town’s marketing director asked if I’d be interested in running it.”

She carefully sets down her glass on the table beside her before giving me a stern look. “What about your comeback?”

“I don’t know if I still want it.”

“Deep down there has to be some part of you that still wants it. Even if it’s the teensy-weensy part that wants revenge on Amelia.”

Amelia was my understudy and she convinced our director I wasn’t going to recover my voice in time for opening night. I had the chance to finally play the character I’ve always wanted in the Off-Broadway revival ofMy Fair Lady, and the kid I always thought of as my mentee stomped all over it and took my place. It was that Bette Davis movieAll About Evecome to life.

I brush my hair behind my ears. “What she did was underhanded. But I don’t know if getting my revenge is worth leaving mom here by herself again.”

Cheri’s expression darkens. “You don’t think she’s going to beat it this time?”

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