Page 65 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

“So it’s a setback. You’ve done live theatre, haven’t you?” His acerbic tone catches me off guard. “You should know this will be the first ofmanysetbacks you’re going to have during the course of this show.”

I sit straighter. “Yes? And?”

He stands. “You’re the director. Suck it up and figure it out. And if that means going door-to-door and inviting people to audition, then that’s what it means.”

Connie adds, “And if it means going into the cafeteria and singing karaoke in order to convince people you know what you’re doing, thenthat’swhat it means.”

“Epic,” Dylan says.

Connie brightens, like she’s just solved an impossible equation. “Oh my word, yes! This is the best idea!”

“What is? Karaoke?” I protest. “I thought that was just a metaphor.”

I can see she’s already forming a plan in her head by the way she’s talking with her hands, like she’s setting the scene. “Auditions continue tomorrow. I say we pack it up today, then make this happen tomorrow at lunch.”

I can see this idea is picking up steam.

“We take the portable speaker that Daisy uses for karaoke night and you perform”—a big flourish with the hands now—“Right in the middle of the lunch rush. When you finish, you do a plug for auditions!”

“Wait, what?” My heart races.

“It could work,” Ginny says, thoughtfully but not quietly.

“Do you want to do a song with a tap solo?” Veronica asks. “We could do a duet!”

Performing on a stage with the lights blurring any actual faces in the audience is one thing. Performing under the flickering fluorescent lighting of a retirement community dining hall is something else entirely.

You can see them. It’s not ideal.

“This is a great idea,” Connie says. “I can send out a newsletter blast tonight.”

“Oh no, don’t do that,” I say, but nobody hears me.

“Or maybe not,” Connie says, but not because I protested. She’s deep in thought. “We want the element of surprise.”

“Do we, though?” I ask quietly. “Won’t that be bad for their hearts or something?”

“I agree,” Veronica says, not listening. “Show everyone that Rosie is the person to lead usandthe show. There’s no buy-in because they don’t know her.”

Ginny harrumphs. “And because Belinda is ruining it for everyone. She’s just jealous, Rosie, because nobody wanted her to direct. I swear, that woman is—”

“Do you care about this show, Rosie Waterman?” Arthur cuts her off and is still looking at me. I’m beginning to think the only facial expression he has is a glare.

I casually wonder if he lives in a garbage can next to Mr. Snuffleupagus.

“Of course I do.” Right?

He shrugs, but his expression doesn’t change. “Then prove it.”

“You’re on board with this too?” I ask in disbelief. When Arthur doesn’t respond, I groan. “So you want me to go interrupt everyone’s meal with a performance in the middle of the day. In the dining hall. Tomorrow.”

They all look at me, wearing a collective expression that seems to say,“Yes!”

I let out a heavy sigh, thankful that at least Booker had patients and isn’t here for any of this. “Fine. What song should I sing?”

Chapter 17

The next day, after Connie worked her magic to get the karaoke machine set up, I’m sitting, then standing, then sitting, then pacing outside the dining hall, wondering if it’s too late to walk to the bus station. I don’t even need to pack a suitcase. I’ll happily abandon everything I own to get out of this.

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