“Right, right, right. My fault entirely.” She made the fifteen-minute call to everyone backstage and checked in via headset with her house manager, who reported everything out front was on schedule for an on-time curtain.
Twenty minutes later, they were wandering their way through a Sondheim journey, the audience on the edge of their seats. From the booth that overlooked the house, where she called each and every show, Lauren could occasionally catch a glimpse of an audience member’s face as they went along for the ride, gasping and glancing at their seatmate for each plot twist or turn. She loved that about theater. Back when she used to be an actress herself, she’d taken great pride in affecting those who took in her shows. When an audience member cried or laughed loudly, she carried that energy with her and brought it back out again in appreciation of that relationship. That actor-audience connection was like nothing she’d ever experienced. Those kinds of thoughts always made Lauren’s heart squeeze.
She missed life onstage. Not to say she didn’t love her job. When acting hadn’t panned out after college, she’d made a choice for herself that would keep her in the business she dearly loved, working to tell stories every day. Her skill set fit nicely into stage management. She’d started as a production assistant at a lower level regional theater in Missouri, worked her way up to assistant stage manager after a couple of years, and eventually became a PSM. Landing a resident gig at The McAllister had been a dream come true. Well, a second-choice dream come true after that first dream didn’t pan out. People could have multiple dreams, couldn’t they? And she didn’t take anything for granted. No, sir.
Four and a half hours later and Lauren swirled her lemonade margarita and adjusted her burgundy cocktail dress. The cast party, always traditionally held at the upscale Argyle Hotel, was fully underway. Everyone was doing that thing where they reminisced about how far they’d all come together, hugging everyone else to excess, and professing how much they were going to miss each other. Though it was definitely a routine process for the closing of a show, it didn’t make the sentiments any less sincere.
“Lauren, I don’t know how I would have survived without you,” Emily Heitner said with a flutter of dramatic hand gestures. She was a well-respected actress who’d played the role of The Witch. Kisses and kind words followed.
“Oh my goodness, Lauren. I might miss you most of all,” a male cast member gushed. More kisses and kind words. There was a welcome predictability to it all that she truly cherished.
They danced and sang with the music as the beverages flowed more freely, and when most of the cast and creatives cleared out, Lauren did, too.
She walked to her sky blue Mini Cooper with the white top just after eleven that night and heard footsteps behind her. When she turned to see who followed so closely, she wasn’t surprised.
“Hey, there,” Tinsley said. “That was a lot of fun.”
“Hey, Tins. It was. Headed home?” Tinsley Worth was an up-and-coming scenic designer who was currently working under their head of department. She lent her artistic talents to their main stage sets and got to design some of the smaller children’s shows in the adjoining space.
Tinsley leaned against the Mini and smiled. “I was actually seeing where you were headed. Thought maybe you’d want to grab a drink?”
Lauren considered the offer. Tinsley was cute, and friendly, and her crush on Lauren seemed apparent. Lauren just wasn’t sure she had the time in her life to offer to someone right now. It was possible all Tinsley wanted was a hookup, but wasn’t that a bad idea with people you worked alongside? Hadn’t she just given Trip that same advice? As tempting as it was, Lauren decided to sidestep the offer.
“You’re sweet, but I’ve had such a killer day, you know?” She tapped the top of the Mini. “Gonna head home and play sock tug-o-war with Rocky IV, and maybe have a Baileys on the rocks before bed. Still debating whether I’ll wear the footie pajamas or not, wild child that I am. No photos, please.”
Tinsley laughed. “You definitely have the pajama fashion down. So, I’ve been wondering about something. Is Rocky your fourth dog named Rocky?” Tinsley asked, flashing her smile again. Yep, she was looking for some action, and Lauren just wasn’t prepared to go there with her. She was a pretty girl, and friendly, and gay as hell, but that didn’t necessarily mean Lauren wanted to take her up on the apparent offer. Maybe her romance mechanism had busted somewhere along the way. She should be all over this chance yet wasn’t. That said something.
“No, I just prefer the fourth movie. Rocky just wants to retire, but then his friend needs justice. Then there’s Adrian having all these feelings, and Dolph Lundgren is a fantastic villain, and I’m here for it. Does that make any sense? My brain is compartmentalized.”
“I think I translated.” She nodded. “A very cute explanation. I’ll let you get to those footie pajamas.”
“I better hurry. Have a great night.” Lauren slid into the driver’s side and wondered if that had come off as rude. She’d tried to explain the Rocky IV origins with a grin attached, but maybe she was just awkward. After her long day, who knew what her face said to Tinsley? To help punctuate her lightness, she waved through the windshield just before speeding away. It would have to do.
Her favorite snuffling pug, Rocky, did his famous front paw dance as she opened the door to her home, at long last. She dropped to the ground and mimicked his prancing back and forth. “Rocky, Rocky, Rocky,” she said to each landing of his front paws, exciting him all the more. The more he snuffled, the more thrilled he was. Finally, she toppled him onto his back and rubbed his belly and his sides vigorously, his favorite. “Do you know how much I missed you? There was this cow wandering around onstage, and it reminds me of you every time, you wiggle worm of love. I will kiss your face eight times to celebrate our reunion.” More snuffling as he was kissed. He loved kisses.
Lauren scooped up her best friend and carried him into her living room where they collapsed together on the couch and channel surfed until her adrenaline from the day receded. She did go ahead and pull that cup of Baileys, which tasted like a lovely chocolate shake in liqueur form. Before consuming it, she took a moment to straighten the blanket on her couch and make sure it was folded neatly. Everything in Lauren’s life came with order, her lifeline.
Once she’d accomplished her goal, she was able to breathe a little easier in her well-structured home. Magazines on the coffee table, but books on the shelves. Mug handles faced to the right, and dish towels were folded into squares. Everything had its place, and that made her happy.
The more Lauren relaxed, the more her mind began to turn over the events of the day. More specifically, one important event. She thought on the offer before her. The question was, did she have another three months left in her? Could she push pause on a vacation that she’d already booked and pined away for in order to go back into the rehearsal room all over again?
As she drifted off to sleep with Rocky snoring at her side, the answer was clear.
Hell no.
Chapter Two
“What do you think of me in plaid?” Carly asked and held a shirt up to her chest. “I feel like in Minneapolis maybe I should embrace my plaid side. Are there lumberjack types there? I feel like I remember that from school.”