Page 61 of Kiss Me at Christmas
“Oh my god, he’s terrifying!” Harriet whispered, awed, as Hiroshi slithered across the stage on feet so light it was as though he floated above the boards. There was a menace to his movements as he taunted and stalked his invisible prey.
“I’m havingChitty Chitty Bang Bangchild catcher flashbacks,” James mumbled.
Mateo leaned his head back and hissed, “We met him once, wonderful dancer!”
When Hiroshi took his bow, hearty applause snapped out from both stage wings and everyone in the stalls.
“Thank you, Hiroshi!” called Gideon. “Once again we are humbled to have your talent in our little gang.” Then he leaned toward Harriet and James. “I don’t think there’ll be any dissension if I give him the part, will there?”
“He’s got my vote,” Harriet said.
“No arguments here,” added James.
Gideon nodded, contented, and tapped Mallory’s book, saying, “He’s got the part. Put his name in.”
Isabel arrived at half past six, with Billy and Sid intow. Harriet’s relief was short-lived when she noticed that Isabel was a bit unsteady and more than once, she leaned a little too readily on Billy.
Oh no, she thought.Maybe it’s just the nerves…
“And which part will you be auditioning for today, young lady?” called Gideon.
Isabel squinted past the spotlights trained on her. Harriet’s stomach was a snake pit of nerves.
“Um, I wanted to try out for Bob Cratchit.” Her voice sounded hesitant, and Harriet wondered if anyone else could see her swaying. “I waz-gonna-do-the-ouse-scenes…” She slurred the last few words together, and that was when Harriet knew for sure.
Silly, silly girl!Harriet quickly extricated herself from the stalls and made her way silently toward the stage, waving furiously at Isabel, but Isabel was too dazzled by the spotlights to see her and continued to sidestep left and right, occasionally stumbling into Billy, whose lips were pressed so thin with tension he looked like he might shatter.
“Billy!” Harriet hissed, but Billy appeared to have become stage-struck.
“Read on, Isabel!” Gideon encouraged.
“Um, would it be okay if Billy read the part of Mssscratchit?” Isabel asked. She covered her mouth and let out a loud belch. “He helped me with my lines.”
“By all means,” said Gideon, completely oblivious to the disaster waiting to happen. “Our Ms. Cratchit needs a scowling spouse as a counterbalance to her sunny disposition, and young Billy would appear to have scowls in spades.”
Harriet heard the titters of laughter as she raced onto the stage to wrestle Isabel off it, just in time for the girl to vomit red wine all over the newly varnished boards.Isabel swayed for a second, eyes wide with horror, and then fled from the stage in drunken zigzags and a flood of tears. Billy followed, with Harriet hot on their heels, leaving the squawks of disgust and outrage ringing out behind her.
Harriet turned onto a dim corridor and saw Billy barring Isabel’s exit despite her heartfelt protestations. Billy acknowledged Harriet with a nod and Isabel turned, her face streaked with mascara and foundation, and puked again.
“Oh, sweetie.” Harriet opened her arms, and after only a second’s hesitation, the stricken girl collapsed into them and sobbed.
“I’m. Sorry,” she hiccupped into Harriet’s fourth-favorite cardigan.
Harriet sighed and rubbed her back. “What were you thinking?”
“I. Was. Nervous. I thought it would hellllp…” The end was lost to a slurred keen.
“Did you see how much she drank?” she asked Billy.
He ran his hands over his head as he sidestepped the pool of vomit. “I only saw one bottle. She’d already drunk it all by the time we met her. That’s why we were late. I thought maybe if we walked for a bit, you know, it might sober her up.”
One whole bottle of red was more than enough to floor a sixteen-year-old as slight as Isabel. Harriet hoped she’d thrown it up before she had a chance to get alcohol poisoning.
“Let’s get you into the dressing room and get some water down you.” Harriet turned with Isabel still curled into her like a baby bird and walked haltingly back along the corridor.
“I’ve ruined everything,” Isabel wailed. “I really wanted the part! And I’ve got sick on your cardigan!”
“Never mind. It’s not my favorite.”
