Page 127 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

“I love to perform. I love that feeling of connecting with a character so much that I almost slip on her skin and bring her to life.” I let myself remember it, all the times I’d been onstage, under the lights, sharing a story in a way that no other medium allows me to do. I close my eyes. “I miss it when I’m not up there. It’s not about the crowds or the applause or anything like that. It never has been. It’s about creating something from nothing, doing thework, then expressing it in a way that allows people to see themselves up there, on the stage. Or allows them to get lost in the story I’m telling... I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like...” Why am I embarrassed to say this out loud? It’s not a secret. “I feel like this is what I was born to do.”

His steady expression remains. “So itisyour dream.”

I nod. “It is. In spite of everything that happened with my mom... I think it always was.” I go still. “But maybe, at some point, it became about the promise I made. Maybe I forgot all the reasons I wanted it in the first place. Maybe I forgot that this is the thing that makes me feel alive.”

He sets his hands in his lap but doesn’t meet my eyes. “Sometimes I think we can convince ourselves that a dream has to look a certain way.” Now he glances at me. “Part of the fun of this stuff is staying open to the unexpected.”

“Like working in a retirement community?” I quip.

“I bet you took this job thinking you were just punching a clock.” He chuckles to himself.

“I definitely didn’t think I’d learn anything.” I sigh. “But I can honestly say, it’s been one of the best experiences of my life.

He nods. “It’s amazing what you discover if you hold the dream loosely.” He holds up a hand. “I’m not saying you quit on it. Just maybe... reimagine it. You can pursue this dream in a million different ways. Maybe it’s not the dream that needs to change but the method of making it come true.”

I frown, trying to wrap my head around it. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“Rosie, my dear, I think you already have.”

Chapter 35

The show, perhaps, may actually go on.

After a full day of working on the space, most of the volunteers go home, weary and exhausted but with an against-all-odds sense that we’re going to be okay.

That the show is going to be okay.

In the evening, Dylan took the cast to the dance studio to run through the show, and while I wanted to be there, I didn’t feel like I could leave the cleanup efforts. Afterward, she returned and gave me a full report, and I think maybe she was proud of herself for running things without me.

I was proud of her too.

I thanked her and told her to go home and sleep, to which she replied, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

Good to know the Dylan I know and love is still in there somewhere, even if she sometimes hides behind the face of a responsible person.

The stage is still damp in spots, but we cleared it in time, and it doesn’t look like the water will render it unusable, so I’m taking that as a win.

This has been one of those days where you’re in one place, focusing on one thing for so long, the concept of time is lost. I think it’s probably dark out, and I know I need to go home, but when Booker walks in with a pizza, I realize I’m not going anywhere until it’s been completely devoured.

“Oh, you beautiful human,” I say.

He grins. “Hungry?”

“Starving.”

He hands over the box, then spreads a tarp out on the stage. The work lights are on, but they’re dim, and the longer I stand there, the more I can mentally turn this setting into a romantic one... despite the disaster of the day.

I walk over and set the box at the center of the tarp, then go back to the scene shop and grab two bottles of water from a small refrigerator in the corner.

When I walk back out onto the stage, I slow down, studying Booker when he’s unaware. It’s one of my favorite pastimes—people watching—but watching him, admiring him... it’s a different experience. Transcendent somehow. He has an effect on every part of me.

It’s still early, but I really think there’s something here. I think maybe, it’s possible, under different circumstances, that I could... you know, love this guy.

And more importantly, if I let him, I think maybe he could love me back.

He glances up. “That was quite a day.” He takes a bottle of water from me, and we both sit, the pizza box between us.

We’re quiet for a long moment. The adrenaline of the day is still sloshing around inside me, but thankfully I can start to feel it ebb.

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