Jules smiled, picturing them together on the floral-printed couch in the house where she’d grown up. There was a rustling sound, and then her grandmother’s voice came on the line.
“Julia, I am so proud,” her grandma said, her voice gruff with emotion. “I can’t wait to see you up on that stage, shining like a star. Mi estrella.”
“Thank you,” Jules said, pressing a hand against her heart.
“You’ve worked so hard for this.” It was her mom again. “All those years of training and classes and auditions.”
“I’m going to need to add piano lessons back into the mix,” Jules told her. “I have a solo near the end of the second act where I’ll play the piano on stage.”
“My baby girl, Broadway star. Oh, mija, your father would have been so proud.”
“Papi will be there in spirit.” Jules’s throat tightened. She’d lost her father five years ago after a long struggle with kidney disease, and she still missed him so much, it took her breath away in moments like this, when she realized he wouldn’t be able to see her realize her dream.
“He’ll be watching over you every night,” her mother said.
“I know.” Tears rolled over Jules’s cheeks, the same tears she heard in her mother’s voice. Right now, she would have given anything to have her mom and grandma there with her, to give them both a huge hug, to spend a girls’ afternoon together, celebrating her good news. She loved living in New York and had the most supportive family ever, but sometimes, she missed them so much, it hurt.
“Tell me more about your role,” Paula said in her ear, shifting them back onto less emotional ground.
“Well, it’s a brand-new production, written by a woman, which is amazing. I play Bianca, who’s an actress herself, trying to balance her personal and professional life. And ultimately…it’s a coming out story.”
“Coming out of what?” her mom asked, completely oblivious.
Jules sat straighter on her couch, stomach clenching as if she was the one coming out. “Coming out of the closet. I’ll be kissing a woman on stage.”
“Oh my,” her mother said with a laugh.
Jules’s cheeks heated. She’d be kissing a woman on stage, night after night. What would that be like? Would it help Jules figure out her own sexuality, or would it make her even more confused? Was this role a sign that it was finally time for her to face this part of herself she’d been avoiding for so long?
“Does it bother you?” she asked her mom cautiously. Her parents had always supported her and her brothers unconditionally, had encouraged them to follow their hearts and their dreams, but they were a traditional Catholic family, after all.
“Of course not,” her mother answered. “It’s not like it means you’re gay. I think it’s very brave of you to play a role like this.”
“Right.” Jules slumped against the couch. How would her mom react when and if she did come out to her? The thought felt more terrifying—and real—than ever before.
“Oh, sweetie, I can’t believe we’re talking about your first starring role on Broadway.” Her mom had choked up again.
“Well, it’s off-Broadway, but yeah, I know.”
“Remind me what the difference is?” Paula asked.
“The theaters are smaller,” Jules told her. “Anything with fewer than five hundred seats is considered off-Broadway. I won’t be eligible for a Tony. I mean, not that I would have been nominated anyway, but Broadway is a requirement for that. The theater where I’ll be performing is in Brooklyn, not too far from my apartment, actually. It’s the perfect start for me, Mami. Off-Broadway can be a great place for unknown actors to showcase themselves.”
“This is your big break,” her mom agreed.
“I sure hope so,” she whispered. “I still can’t quite believe it’s really happening.”
“Well, I can. You deserve this. In fact, it’s been a long time coming.”
By the time Jules hung up the phone, she was ready to take on the world. A conversation with her mom—and her grandma—tended to have that effect on her. Lunch with Pierce further bolstered her mood, especially the contract he’d brought for her to sign.
Back at her apartment, she thumbed through the paperwork, curious to see who else had been cast in the production, if she knew any of the other performers. A woman named Micki Fredriksson would be playing Melissa, the other female lead. And oh. Sophie Rindell had been cast as both Jules’s and Micki’s understudy.
Well, that was certainly a happy surprise.
3
Jules stepped through the Sapphire Theater’s back door as she’d been instructed in the information packet she’d received last week. Instead of using a separate rehearsal space, since the Sapphire was currently closed to the public while it underwent renovations, they would get to rehearse right here on the stage where they’d be performing.
This morning, she would meet the rest of the cast and the production team for the first time, and that afternoon, they would do their first full read through of the script together. Jules had done this enough times to be familiar and comfortable with the process, but she’d never done it as the lead.
That part was new and exciting, although also slightly terrifying. Jules walked down the back hallway, following the sound of voices past several offices, a kitchen, and a conference room. She rounded the corner and found herself standing in the eaves of the stage. From here, she could see a semicircle of chairs arranged at the center of the stage and several people already standing around talking.
Let’s do this.
She stepped onto the stage. Several heads swiveled in her direction. She spotted Kari Wong, the director, and headed over to say hello. She’d first met Kari when she had a walk-on role in a play Kari had directed a few years ago.
“Julia,” Kari said warmly as she approached, extending a hand. She was a petite woman, several inches shorter than Jules, which gave her the rare sensation of feeling tall. Today, Kari was dressed in all black, her dark hair pulled back in her usual no-nonsense ponytail. “Welcome. I’m so thrilled to have you on board with us for It’s in Her Kiss.”
“It is an absolute honor to be here,” Jules said, clasping her hand. “And please, call me Jules.”
“You got it.” Kari motioned for Jules to follow her as she introduced her to the stage manager, musical director, and choreographer, as well as their assistants. Jules had met the choreographer, Simon Frampton, briefly during auditions, and he greeted her enthusiastically.
“We’ll get started as soon as everyone’s here,” Kari told her.
“I’ll start introducing myself around,” Jules said, turning toward the cluster of actors in the center of the stage.
“Hi,” one of the women said as Jules approached.
“Hi,” she responded. “I’m Julia Vega, but please call me Jules.”
“Oh,” another woman said. “You’re playing Bianca.”
“Yes.” And just like that, everyone was staring at Jules. Well, this was new.
She studied each face carefully as she was introduced, repeating the person’s name as she shook their hand to commit it to memory. An acting coach had taught her this technique years ago, showing her how to note a distinctive facial feature or other unique characteristic as she repeated their name, and it really worked. People were endlessly impressed when she showed up on the second day of rehearsal and remembered their names.