Page 57 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

“If she wants to save the theatre, she will.” Louie polishes off thefirst half of his sandwich. He eats like someone is going to take his food away.

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“She didn’t tell you?” Louie shakes his head. “That Connster. She’s sneaky.”

“They’re strapped,” Booker says. “Funding for Sunset—staff, grounds, upkeep, amenities—is all paid for by the residents, but the theatre isn’t part of the overall operating budget. For the last five years they’ve been trying to keep the theatre going with fewer resources.”

“It started with a gift back in the day, and usually it operates from the investments of that grant,” Daisy adds. “But unfortunately...”

“Old folks theatre doesn’t sell that great,” Louie says through a new big bite of his sandwich. “Shocker.”

“I heard that’s part of why they brought you in,” Daisy says. “They’re hoping a professional can, you know, fix things.”

I set my half-eaten bagel back down. “So, wait, they brought me in to try and—”

“Save the theatre,” Booker finishes my sentence for me.

“No pressure!” Louie chuckles.

“Save the theatre? What is this,The Muppetsmovie?” I hear the exasperation in my own voice.

Louie points at me. “Totallyunderrated. Jason Segel was hilarious in that.”

“Right?!” I agree. I take a risk and bust out the chorus from “Man or Muppet,” and before I can even second-guess my decision, Louie joins in without hesitating. We sing loud, off-key, arms out, overdramatic.

After only four lines, we start laughing, and he slings an arm around my neck. “Hey, Book, can we keep her?”

Daisy looks at Booker. “Oh no. There’s two of them now.”

I wonder if all of the staff is like this. Instant friends.

It’s nice. Really nice.

I pat Louie’s arm, and he goes back to eating.

“Guys, I’m not sure I can pull this off. I mean, if this is some kind of last-ditch effort, we might actually be in trouble.”

“You’re a pro, Rosie.” Daisy has somehow produced a jar of hot fudge, and she’s now drizzling it over the ice cream—and Louie already has his hand out,gimmestyle. “You’ll totally figure it out.”

“How do you know that?” I ask, half laughing. “I might be terrible.”

“Nuh-uh, urr th’ bess!” Louie says with a mouth full of food.

Daisy rolls her eyes.

“That needs marshmallow,” Louie says with a nod to Daisy’s bowl.

“Marshmallows?” She frowns.

“Nah,marshmallow.The gooey kind. Back me up, Book.” He holds up his hand in a high five. Booker leaves it hanging, so Louie slaps his own hand and gives a thumbs-up.

“Always marshmallow,” Booker says coolly.

Louie walks over to a cupboard and pulls down a large canister. I half watch as he opens it, starting a debate with Daisy about the best sundae toppings.

I can’t concentrate enough to argue the merit of a simple butterscotch drizzle on vanilla because this is all setting in. The easy way I fit in with these people, juxtaposed against the daunting task of saving a theatre with a cast of elderly performers.

This theatre program was important to somebody—enough that they gifted Sunset Hills with the money for a building and a director and a program.

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