Page 61 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

Connie must see this register on my face, and she moves closer. “You’re going to be wonderful.Sogood. We have faith in you.Ihave faith in you.”

I meet her eyes, and in them I find absolute confidence.

In me.

“You really think I’m the person, don’t you?” I say.

Connie pats my shoulder, then turns toward the building and starts walking alongside me. “I don’t believe in accidents. So if you’re here, then you’re here for a reason. And I’m betting there is something here for you too.”

“Something for me? Here?” I try not to laugh.

“Maybe so. I can’t wait to find out what it is!” She claps her hands together, then reaches out to take mine, leading me toward the theatre. “I’ve assembled your team. They’re waiting for you in the auditorium.”

My team. Right.

Because I’m in charge.

When someone has a question about how things are supposed to go, they’ll be coming to me. If someone has an issue with the role they got, they’ll be coming to me. If someone’s costume doesn’t fit, if they can’t make it to a rehearsal, if they’ve fallen and they can’t get up, they’ll be coming to me.

And they’ll expect me to have the answers.

Fake it till you make it.

I mean, that’s literally the career I’ve chosen.

Piece of cake.

We walk down to the front of the auditorium, and I get into character. I’m a strong, capable, confident director who knows what she’s doing. I’m fearless and ready to take on this project, regardless of what the outcome might be.

But then I see the “team” Connie has assembled. Yet somehow,it’s like they’ve all been studying the script and I’m walking into a cold read.

I look around, reminding myself that I’m good at cold reads. I’ve got this.

First there’s Arthur, the curmudgeonly facilities caretaker who is disinterested and scowling. Then there are two older women, and next to them, I’m stunned to discover, is Booker.

Connie shuffles around me and claps her hands together like the activities director on a cruise ship. “Good morning! I am absolutely thrilled you’ve all agreed to be a part of Rosie’s creative team. Of course, we will need to recruit a few more people, but this is an excellent start.”

“Why don’t we begin by telling Rosie who you are?” Connie nods at a woman whose hair is pulled up in a loose bun. The woman is pretty in a girl-next-door sort of way, if the girl next door were in her late sixties.

“I’m Veronica,” the woman says. “Connie’s asked me to work with you on the choreography. I handle the adult tap classes here, so maybe we could throw a tap number into the show?”

“Oh yeah, maybe!” I force a smile. There isn’t a tap number inCinderella.

“Maybe we could turn one of the songs into a tap number? Maybe the fairy godmother taps when she sings ‘Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo’?”

My heart skips. Do the members of my team know this isnotthe Disney version ofCinderella? “We can totally talk about it!”

I don’t want to crush their creativity right out of the gate.

A stout, elderly woman with short gray hair and a pair of thick horn-rimmed glasses hanging from a chain around her neck steps forward. “I’m Ginny,” she says loudly as she puts the glasses on, presumably to inspect me. Which is what she appears to be doing—through a scowl—when she says, “I’ve been doing the costumes. I don’t like people complaining, so we can put Belindaon notice right now. I’m sure you’ll want her to be the lead, but she will wear whatever ball gown I give her. I don’t care whether it’s in ‘her color palette’ or not.”

“Oh, I don’t pre-cast,” I say. “Belinda isn’t promised anything.”

She glances at Veronica, raises her eyebrows, and then turns back to me. “You just might be okay.”

If I had to guess, Ginny was definitely part of the group that complained about Belinda potentially being in charge.

Before I can formulate a response, Connie steps forward. “I think you already met Arthur?”

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