Page 22 of Every Star that Shines

When Delanie had come across the shelf of binders in Nan’s storage room, it had been like hitting the jackpot. She’d only taken a couple home to glance through, but her grandmother’s neat cursive had filled page upon page in each. It would take her several days to read through even the binders she had taken back to her parents’.

“That, she was,” agreed Violet. “She was an incredible woman and an astounding director.”

Delanie nodded, loss tickling the back of her eyes and Impostor Syndrome crushing her ribs. When Violet’s hand covered hers, she looked up.

“You’ll get there too, my dear. You’re already an incredible woman. As far as directing, that only takes practise, just like anything else.”

Delanie absorbed the belief shining from the indigo eyes of the woman who had taught her how to sing and play piano, and who’d been a steady, encouraging presence all through her formative years. She smiled shyly, her face growing warm.

“Thanks, er, Violet.” She still struggled with referring to her old teacher by her first name instead of as Mrs. Butler. Glancing sideways, she noticed Caleb watching her, an intense look in his eyes. The heat in her face intensified, and she looked toward the counter instead, relieved to see a tall, thin server in a green apron making his way toward them with a tray full of mugs and snacks.

After the server left, they settled down to business. For the most part, the discussion was productive, with everyone offering good ideas and observations. Caleb volunteered to head up finding backstage volunteers and to work with the theatre manager to figure out lighting, all while continuing to work on the sets.

“Which reminds me.” Caleb flipped his notebook open to a pencil sketch of a backdrop design depicting an Italian village by the sea. Though it looked like the drawing had been done in a rush, it had obviously been made by a practised hand. He turned the page to reveal designs for other set pieces. Delanie moved the sketchbook to the centre of the table so the other women could see, too, then started flipping slowly through.

“I had Noel sketch these up last night so you could see what our plan is,” Caleb continued. “He had discussed these concepts with Molly, but he never got the chance to show her the designs. He said we could still make changes if you want. We’ve got the materials, but we haven’t started on the big piece yet.”

He flipped the page and pointed at a drawing of an open-mouthed whale facade to be made from plywood and put on casters. Delanie glanced over the drawing, impressed. From the looks on Amber’s and Violet’s faces, she wasn’t the only one.

“This looks great,” Delanie said. “Can I keep this?”

“By all means,” he said with a gesture. “Samantha Crawford—you know, the mom of the girl playing the Blue Fairy—will be doing the actual painting. Noel and I will just be doing the building.”

“Thanks.” Delanie closed the notebook and tucked it into the front pocket of her binder. “I’ll let you know if I think of anything else. But are you sure doing the producer job isn’t too much of a time commitment? Sets and lighting alone is a big job, on top of helping me run rehearsals.”

“Nah,” Caleb said with a dismissive wave. “I’m good.”

Violet smiled at him. “I’m so glad you’re part of the production this year, Caleb.”

Caleb shifted uncomfortably. “Don’t mention it.” He looked like he would really rather she hadn’t.

“My husband, Luc, can run sound again,” Amber interjected.

“Uh, great,” said Caleb, jotting Luc’s name in his notebook. “Thanks.”

Amber nodded, making a note on her tablet too.

Delanie studied Amber, wondering if she had jumped in so awkwardly because she’d been feeling left out. Thankfully, the other points of discussion went more smoothly. Amber took copious notes throughout the meeting and made some rather astute suggestions. Perhaps not to be outdone by Caleb, she agreed without hesitation to take on organizing the wrap-up party, arranging for the posters and cast tee-shirts to be made, and overseeing the parent volunteer schedule. When Delanie complimented and thanked her, she looked as though she were trying to hide how pleased she was. Delanie made a mental note—even though Amber could be abrasive, perhaps she was only trying to find validation through her contributions. Delanie could relate.

“Now, about the costumes,” Delanie said. “I had my friend Marie send me some sketches.” She pulled up the images on her phone. She had been astounded when Marie had sent the gallery of photos that morning—not only had the designer sketched ideas for all the principals, but she had even done designs for each of the choruses.

You’re the best, Marie, Delanie had texted back.

Don’t you forget it, Marie had returned with a silly-faced emoji.

Delanie passed her phone to Caleb to look through while she kept talking. “The costume mistress—what’s her name again? Becca?”

Violet nodded. “Becca Johanson.”

“Becca may not be able to replicate these exactly, but these should be simple enough to make on a budget with only a few volunteers, Marie tells me.”

“Becca’s a miracle with a sewing machine,” Violet said. “I’m sure she’ll be able to come pretty close.”

Caleb peered at the phone screen, sliding through images with his thumb. “These look great. Your designer friend knows what she’s doing.”

Delanie beamed. “Yeah, she’s amazing. I’m hoping she can come out to see the play when we perform.”

Caleb raised his brows. “That would be fantastic. Emma would be thrilled to meet her. She loves designing clothes—she’s always making little sketches of dresses and such. She would probably talk your friend’s ear off.” He handed Delanie’s phone to Amber, who snatched it and began scrolling.

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