Page 142 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

But maybe it’s better that way.

I like this novel idea of taking a less desperate, more measured approach to my career. It’s like I’ve made my peace with all of it, and if this one doesn’t work out, something else will. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I have options.

We’re on a ten-minute break during rehearsal, and I glance up and find Grace and Connie walking through the transformation scene. The costumes have all been repaired or replaced, thanks to Ginny’s recruitment efforts, which basically consisted of knocking on every single door in Sunset Hills and asking if anyone knew how to sew.

We now have eight new seamstresses, all of whom said they had so much fun they can’t wait for the next show.

Somehow, word got out that I’ve been offered a job here, andwhile I’m still mulling it over, most of the cast and crew have let me know their feelings on the subject.

Belinda said, and I quote,“Well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, I suppose.”

I’ve thought about it a lot. I’ve thought about how I could be happy here. I like the people, and the conditions of my employment are next-level amazing. Not many jobs offer room and board and late-night kitchen raids as perks.

But then I think about how it felt to film that audition. I think about the prospect of performing in a play I’ve wanted to do since I was eighteen. I think about how it felt to tap into what that character wasreallyfeeling during that speech.

Evolve my dream in Sunset Hills.

Rekindle my passion in Chicago.

It’s the age-old question that The Clash sang about in the eighties.

Should I stay or should I go?

***

Three days later, I wake up with nervous jitters in my stomach and a beautiful bouquet of roses on my counter.

I’m about to see if there’s a card when Daisy pops out of her room. “They’re from Booker,” she singsongs.

I smile. “Was he here this morning?”

“He had to work early, so he dropped them off on the way,” she says. “I canceled all the events for the weekend and have two big groups doing dinner and a show.” She shrugs her shoulders in perky excitement. “I cannotwaitto see all your hard work pay off!”

I scrub a hand down my face and pour myself a cup of coffee.

“Have you... thought any more about what you’re going to do? About the job offer?” Daisy asks tentatively.

I pour cream into my cup and take a drink. “I’ve thought about it a lot actually.”

“And?” Her eyes are hopeful.

“And I still don’t know.” I sigh. “Stability is appealing. But so is acting. I love it here, but I also love being on the stage. I’m not sure I’m ready to give that up yet.” I can tell something is shifting, like I’m on the cusp of a big change—I just don’t know what that looks like.

Daisy leans against the counter. “Your housemate is ah-mazing,” she croons. “That’s in the pro column, right?”

“Absolutely.”

She grins. “Really, Rosie, whatever you decide, I’m going to cheer you on.”

“Thanks.” I study her as she sits down and pulls on her shoes. If I do go, I’ll really miss her. In just a few months, she’s become a real friend to me.

“I’ll see you tonight.” She rushes out the door, and I laugh as I hear the tires squeal when she peels away. I can’t imagine what that girl is like behind the wheel of a real car.

I stand in the living room, holding my coffee and staring out over the common space. It’s peaceful—a calm before the opening-night storm. All of the details have been taken care of. Everything we could’ve done has been done.

The theatre has been as repaired as it’s going to get, though we’re now performing on subfloor without a curtain in the middle of the stage.

All that’s left to do is show up and deliver a speech that builds confidence in my cast, many of whom are undoubtedly full of nerves today. And once that’s finished, I’ll get to sit back and watch as the hours and days and weeks of hard work finally pay off.

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