Page 102 of Someone to Have
“I do,” I say, then add, “At least I do now.” Maybe I’m not the fraud I’ve convinced myself I am. I sit up straighter, squaring my shoulders as my breathing finally steadies.
She gives my arm a gentle squeeze. “Better late than never.”
“I hope so.” And that hope has nothing to do with the play.
“Just remember,” she says, her gaze landing on each of us in the room. “We’re not going to let him steal our joy. He’s had enough chances to pull his head out of his ass. We get through this production, and when the weekend ends, we’re done with him. And we’ll make sure he’s done with community theater in our town.”
The room erupts in clapping, whoops, and the stomp of heels against the wood floor.The energy shifts to something electric, and as the other cast members return to their preparations, Ellie pulls the empty stool next to mine closer.
“Are you shocked?” she asks with a smile.
“A little bit,” I admit. “I know he’s intense, but this is my first production, and I don’t have anything to compare it to.”
“I hope it won’t be your last,” she says, patting my hand. “I can guarantee he won’t be back if us regulars have anything to say about it. Bryan Coooper is for sure a dick.”
“A limp dick,” I whisper under my breath, causing Ellie to throw back her head and laugh.
“I can’t speak to that,” she says with a grimace.
“Me neither. It’s an inside joke with a friend of mine.”
“Your friend has good instincts.”
Myrna pokes her head in and announces the five-minute call. My stomach swoops and dips in response. “Ready or not,” I whisper.
“You’ve got this,” Ellie assures me as she stands.
“Why do you sound so sure when I’m anything but?”
“Not my first rodeo. Just remember—we’ve got your back.”
“Thank you. I think I needed to know that.”
It’s not a team like my family thinks of one, but her words mean I won’t be alone out there, and that changes everything.
Myrna re-enters the dressing room, bringing a bouquet of roses to me. “I never thought I’d see the day when Marty Maxwell darkened the door of our little community theater.” She sets the flowers in front of me. “You’ve got quite the cheering section.”
I press my nose into the fragrant blooms before reaching for the card, which is signed by every member of my family.
“No crying with your stage makeup on,” Ellie says gently.
“They’re ready for you,” one of the stagehands calls to her before I can respond.
“You’ve got this,” she tells me again.
“Break a leg,” I answer, and she grins.
“Every single time,” she assures me before walking away with Myrna following.
Another crew member approaches. “You’re Taylor, right?”
I turn and meet the teenager’s anxious gaze. “That’s me.”
“Some guy asked me to give this to you.” He thrusts a small box into my hands. “He was in a terrible mood about it, so I hope it’s not a bomb.”
“Yikes, me too.” I manage a shaky smile. It feels too light to be a bomb. “Thanks,” I say, but the kid has already turned and dashed in the other direction, clearly wanting to be far away when I open it—just in case.
Inside the box is a small glass bottle with gold flakes. I shake it, watching as they shimmer against the edges of the glass. Beneath it is a card.
