Page 147 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

I tuck my phone away and choose to stay in the moment. “Everything’s great.” I smile.

“Now that we’ve fully established that we’re all making things up as we go...” Taylor sets her fork down. “Where’s the bathroom?”

Chapter 41

Opening night jitters are totally normal.

But these jitters are different.

If I’m the one acting, there are things I can control. My performance. My breathing. My heart rate.

Kind of.

Here, once the curtain goes up, this show is out of my hands.

And that’s exactly what I tell my cast. It’s like a moment, a ritual, of handing our hard work over to them. Of letting it rest solely on their shoulders.

It’s their show... and it’s a good one. And not a good show for a bunch of old people.

It’s just solidlygood.

I stand in the back, listening and not listening as Dylan calls the show. I look and don’t look as my cast takes the stage. It’s like peering through my fingers at the part of the scary movie you don’t want to watch.

But you look anyway.

Edgar drops a few lines, and Sal accidentally chokes and spits part of his turkey sandwich straight into Belinda’s corset, but her ad-libbed reaction—“Sunset Hills cooking, my dear boy?”—gets a laugh.

But it’s Grace’s transformation dress that steals the show.

It seamlessly, perfectly transforms her from peasant to princess,and it goes off without a hitch. I run backstage to celebrate with Ginny and find her in the wings.

“I’m so relieved it worked,” she says, laughing through tears.

All in all, the show is beautiful. The audience is wonderfully loud. The cast is superb, and when it’s all over and I stand to applaud their hard work, I’m overcome with emotion and the absolute certainty that this will forever go down as one of the most special memories of my life.

Afterward, while the cast mills around, I hand out “congratulations” and “I’m so proud of yous” like I’m on a parade float tossing Tootsie Rolls to kids. Everyone is buzzing and chattering about the show, including my friends, who practically tackle me the second they find me in the crowd.

Screams, hugs, and all of the oh-my-gosh-ing I can stand. It’s overwhelmingly sweet, and I soak up every second.

“Rosie, it wassogood!” Maya raves. “I decided I want my wedding dress to be a transformation dress. Can you make that happen?”

“We’re so proud of you, Ro,” Marnie says. “It turned out perfect!”

I’m chatting with them when I spot Bertie down near the front of the space. She’s holding a program and looking around like she’s waiting for someone.

“I’ll be back,” I say. “I just want to say hi to someone.”

I make my way through the crowd, moving toward Bertie, and my heart squeezes when I see Arthur emerge from backstage, look at her, and then walk down the stairs to where she’s standing.

I stop moving and watch, wishing I could hear what he says. I assume it’s something kind (hopefully that he’s sorry for being an idiot) when she smiles shyly and looks away.

There’s something extra sweet about a second chance at love.

Then, from behind me, Dylan’s voice. “Hey, um, Rosie?”

I turn to find Dylan standing with a woman dressed in a simpleblack pantsuit. She’s striking, sharp, and put together. And she looks like... Dylan.

“This is... um. This is my mom.”

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