Backstage Romance: An Austen-Inspired Romantic Comedy Box Set

by Gigi Blume

  He laughed, shaking his head.

  I narrowed my eyes. “What?”

  “I may be Charlie Brown, but you’re Schroeder.”

  I hitched one shoulder up and played on. The party guests turned and stared like they weren’t sure what to make of me. I spotted Reeses on top of a high-top table, ears at attention.

  “Reeses likes it,” I said. “He’s got good taste in music.”

  Wyatt’s face was all wonder. “How is it I’m just finding out you play piano?”

  “I guess I’m full of all sorts of surprises,” I replied.

  “Know any Christmas tunes?”

  Do I know any Christmas tunes?!

  “Is Santa fat and jolly?” I wagged my brows. “Here’s one for you, Charlie Brown.”

  I transitioned smoothly into Linus and Lucy, otherwise known as the Peanuts Theme Song. Wyatt scooped up Reeses and began dancing, bobbing up and down like the cartoon. People started to join in. It was crazy fun. I played one Christmas song after another. At one point, someone put an empty mason jar on the piano lid and stuffed a five-dollar bill inside. I started taking requests.

  Silver Bells, Deck the Halls, Let it Snow. More cash tips filled the jar. Most of the songs were carols everyone joined in on but a few people requested stuff like Santa Baby or Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas which turned out to be more like Karaoke.

  “I have a request,” said Wyatt. “Sing a duet with me?”

  I waved him off. “I can’t sing.”

  “Neither can I. We’ll be terrible together. Come on. For Reeses?” He squeezed Reeses to his cheek to play the cute card.

  “Oh, okay. But I warned you. I’m not a great singer.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  The song he wanted was Baby It’s Cold Outside, so I started in, cringing as my voice left my mouth. Wyatt’s face brightened as if I had the most beautiful voice in the world. I was convinced he must have been deaf.

  He joined in, playing up the comedy. He was making up his own words, giving everyone a good laugh. More money piled in our jar. He kicked it up a notch, inspired by the tips. We were on a roll, singing our little hearts out. He had a pretty good voice. I mean, he was no Pavarotti but I certainly didn’t hold a candle to the many fantastic vocalists at my school. But Wyatt was wonderful in his own Wyatt way. His eyes glistened as he leaned toward me, singing about how my lips looked delicious.

  Gah.

  I thanked my lucky stars he couldn’t see the bright red tinge on my cheeks in the candlelight. What would people think if he stole a kiss right then and there? How would I react? Would I kiss him back?

  He really did have a dazzling smile. It wasn’t just because of his perfectly straight, gleaming white teeth, or how those kissable lips formed into a scrumptious crescent. Or even how his eyes flashed in such a way, they sent bolts of lightning to my belly button.

  I discovered as I sat there playing piano, singing a duet with Wyatt, that his smile was stunning because it sprouted from deep within—from a place so pure and so real, it was almost blinding.

  A flutter built inside of me, filling me to the brim. My heart thundered in my chest. So. Darn. Loud. So overwhelming. My fingers faltered, fumbling over the keys. Wyatt’s smile only grew wider.

  I braced myself for another wave—the falling sensation that’s equal measures frightening and thrilling. Like a roller coaster—the kind that drops you down so your stomach leaps into your throat.

  Was this what it was like to fall in love? This beautiful ache burning me to embers. The awareness in my entire body responding to Wyatt’s presence like static cling on socks.

  No.

  People didn’t fall in love overnight. That only happened in movies.

  In a flash, the power blasted back on—the lights, the music, the donut machine all coming to life at once. Everyone cheered and applauded when the crew responsible for restoring the power ambled inside. Hannah ushered them to the bar to offer them food. Our heroes. We were saved.

  A moment later, I felt Teresa’s hand on my shoulder.

  “A little elf told me you two need a place to stay tonight,” she said.

  Hmmm. I wondered who that might be.

  Kevin came over and greeted us with a handshake. The only one in town not into hugs, it seemed.

  “We want you to stay at our house tonight,” he said in his low baritone. “And we won’t take no for an answer.”

  I’d never been more grateful for a hot shower in my life. Teresa lent me some pajamas that dragged on the floor when I walked so I ended up tying little knots at the hem of the pants. I slept on Joy’s trundle bed. She was under the impression we were having a slumber party and was all about the girl-talk late into the night. She asked so many questions. Was Wyatt my boyfriend? Was he a good kisser? What was my longest Snapchat streak?

  We kinda bonded.

  In the morning I found my clothes washed and folded. Was there no end to these people’s kindness? Wyatt greeted me in the kitchen bright-faced and clean-shaven. Apparently the sofa he slept on was even better than the backseat of that Mustang.

  He’d already taken Reeses out to do his business and the little dog was nibbling on some chicken on a paper plate.

  Wyatt gazed at me. “Last night was something else, wasn’t it?”

  “Which part?”

  “All of it. I feel...happy. You know what I mean?”

  “Yeah. I think so.” I eyed the spread on the kitchen island. Pastries, fruit, coffee, and a note for us to help ourselves.

  Wyatt poured a cup of coffee and handed it to me. “Where did you learn to play piano like that? Is music your major?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s awesome.” He poured another cup and leaned next to me on the counter. “What school do you go to? NYU?”

  “Juilliard.” I bit into a cheese danish.

  “Of course you do.”

  I winked at him as I chewed my danish. This all felt so natural, like we were playing house.

  Silly.

  “So, we should probably figure out a way to get to L.A. in the next twenty-four hours,” he said, running his fingers though his locks. Seriously, he could do that all day and I’d never tire of watching him. “Any ideas?”

  “Hang on.” I padded to the coat rack and unzipped the inside pocket, bringing a pile of cash back into the kitchen. “Our tips.”

  His eyes widened. “You mean your tips. How much did you make?”

  I straightened out the bills, stacking them on the counter. “I dunno. Help me count.”

  We each took a stack and counted silently. There were mostly ones, but also quite a few fives and a couple twenties.

  “Wow. I counted fifty-seven,” said Wyatt. “What about you?”

  “Eighty-four. That can’t be right.”

  Wyatt began counting on his fingers. Fifty-seven and eighty-four...that’s...how much?”

  “I don’t math this early,” I joked.

  “A hundred and forty-one,” a deep voice answered. Kevin sauntered into the kitchen dressed in jeans and a flannel. He poured a cup of coffee and joined us at the island. “Good morning. Sleep well?”

  We both replied that we did and thanked him profusely, especially for taking the time to wash our clothes.

  He waved off our gushing. “It’s all my bride’s doing. She’s the greatest lady I know.”

  “I don’t suppose we could find a really fast train that can get us to California for a hundred and forty-one bucks?” I said, squinting at Wyatt.

  The ding of the doorbell echoed through the house and footsteps pounded down the stairs.

  “I got it.” Teresa ran to the front door. She was a blur as she whizzed by the kitchen archway.

  Kevin polished off his coffee in one swig and rinsed his cup in the sink. “Let’s all go see who that is.”

  He walked out, expecting us to follow him. I couldn’t possibly imagine who might be at their door that’d care to meet Wyatt and me, b
ut figured this was their cute small town custom.

  Let’s all say hello to the Fed-Ex guy. Hugs for everyone.

  But unless the Fed-Ex uniform was a beige skirt and white blouse, the visitors at the door were definitely not delivering a package. Or so I thought.

  Sisters Edna, Patty, and Ruth floated in, all smiles and cheerful greetings and hugged us all. It was so nice to see them again.

  “Where’s your lovely daughter?” asked Edna.

  Teresa took their coats. “Sleeping. You know how teenagers are.”

  I certainly did after last night. No wonder the chatty little thing was tired.

  Kevin invited them into the living room. “Can I offer you some coffee or juice?”

  “Oh no, thank you.” Sister Edna sat on the sofa as we all found seats. “I’m just here to ask a favor of Georgia and Wyatt.”

  That was surprising.

  Wyatt almost jumped with enthusiasm. “Anything. Just name it.”

  “Good.” Sister Edna sat up straight. “Regarding the RV Sister Ruth here drove us in last night.”

  Sister Ruth threaded her fingers on her lap. “Tried to drive.”

  “You did a fine job,” said Sister Patty, covering her hand with encouragement.

  “Yes, well.” Sister Edna continued. “Our sisters in the Costa Mesa convent are in need of the vehicle. They have a lot more retreats and need the RV for trips up to the mountains. There’s a retreat center at Big Bear Lake.”

  I was familiar with Big Bear. My dad took us there when I was a little girl. “It’s beautiful up there,” I said.

  Edna agreed. “It certainly is. But we only need to take the RV as far as Costa Mesa. We had planned on taking the trip after the Epiphany, but it’s quite a long drive.”

  “So long,” Ruth agreed.

  “We weren’t really looking forward to it,” added Patty. “At all.”

  Sister Edna focused on Wyatt and me. “And now God has provided a solution.”

  Ruth dangled a set of keys. “You would be doing us a great favor.”

  “Wait. I don’t follow.” Wyatt shook his head.

  Kevin jumped in. “They have a camper that needs to get to California. You happen to be going that way but don’t have wheels.”

  “It’s perfect,” exclaimed Teresa.

  “But, you would trust us with your camper?” I asked. “Just like that?”

  Edna shrugged. “Eh. It’s insured.”

  18

  Georgia

  The proud part of me wanted to refuse the motor home. I wasn’t accustomed to accepting charity. The nuns insisted it was they who were indebted to us for the favor, but we all knew it was a pure act of kindness on their part. After some resistance, I finally accepted the offer. It was...humbling. They even gave us gas money.

  “We’re saving thousands of dollars on return airfare,” said Sister Edna. “Take it.”

  She shoved it in Wyatt’s hands and wouldn’t let him give it back.

  As we pulled out of town I vowed to pay them back and then some.

  “Do you know what roads to take?” I asked Wyatt. “We don’t have a GPS.”

  I wanted to add that he didn’t have the best track record, but I kept my lips zipped.

  “Kevin gave me very specific directions and Sister Ruth said there’s a road map in the glove box.”

  “Alright. You drive, I’ll navigate. And as soon as we get to a major city, we’ll get you a phone charger.”

  I popped the glove box to find the map, but the most prominent item inside was a gold manila envelope with our names on it.

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  Wyatt glanced over, still keeping one eye on the road. “What?”

  “There’s four hundred dollars in here and a note that reads Just in case we couldn’t convince you to accept the gas money earlier. Turn around. We’re returning this.”

  “We can’t turn back, now. We’re on the highway. You wanna get lost?”

  “No, I certainly do not,” I cried.

  “Okay then. You said you wanted to pay them back, let’s just add this to the amount we owe them and that’s that.”

  “I guess.”

  It occurred to me then, how Wyatt’s understanding of my wealth must have been grossly inflated. Sure, I had a movie star brother. But that was him. Not me.

  “I’m not the rich girl you think I am.”

  Wyatt quickly proclaimed, “I am all about paying my share. I promise. Even if I have to take three jobs.”

  “No, it’s not about that. I’m not penniless. Well, technically I was last night, but that’s beside the point. I just don’t want you to think I’m like that evil ex-girlfriend of yours.”

  He laughed. “I don’t think that.”

  “The truth is, yes, my brother is ludicrously rich. But I don’t like taking handouts from him. I earn my own money playing concerts, recording with orchestras, that sort of thing.”

  “You should make money playing piano. You’re really good.”

  “Thanks. But I don’t have piles of Benjamins lying around my apartment. I play a couple of gigs a month and I get by.”

  He nodded, concentrating on his driving duties. “So you don’t make it rain like the rappers do in those music videos?”

  “I know I look the type, but no.”

  “Well that’s disappointing.”

  We rode along, me making sure we were on the right track, he whistling Christmas tunes. It was strange how I felt weirdly close to him yet knew very little about his life. Was I just fooling myself?

  “What about you?” I asked, the question burning through me. “Tell me about that rich girl. What made her evil? Besides being rich. That one’s obvious.”

  Wyatt hesitated, quietly thinking of the right words to answer my tactlessly intrusive question.

  “Never mind. Sorry I asked. I’m too nosey.”

  “No, no. It’s fine.” He raked his fingers through his hair, a habit I was rapidly growing fond of. “It’s just where do I begin? There were the horns. I guess that was a red flag right there.”

  “Oooh. That would be a deal breaker for me,” I deadpanned.

  “Yeah, well...I was young and gave my heart away too freely. Totally my fault.”

  “I can relate to that.”

  “Yeah?” He flashed a blinding side smile. “Anyway, I could never figure out why she never wanted to be seen with me. When I’d ask her to go to the movies or out somewhere with friends, she would say she wanted me all to herself. Turned out she was just slumming it for kicks. I found out she was dating some society dude at the same time.”

  “Ouch.” My heart went out to him.

  “So I crashed one of her dad’s fancy parties to confront her. And she looked down her nose at me and just majorly insulted me in front of everyone. I knew a lot of the college students there. I thought they were my friends. But they just laughed.”

  “I’m so sorry. That is evil.”

  He took a fortifying breath and shook it all out of him like it was that easy to toss the memory aside. I wanted to reach out and touch him. Show him some comfort.

  “You wanna know why my brother is so protective?” I asked after a minute.

  “I know why,” he said. “Because he’s an older brother and he loves you. Simple.”

  Not as simple as he thought.

  “I gave my heart away, too,” I admitted. “Except I was a lot younger. Jorge was a family friend, practically a brother. When my dad died, Jorge got into a big fight with Will. I didn’t understand it all so I rebelled. I’d go meet him behind my brother’s back, text him all the time. I guess I developed a tiny crush but was too naive to do anything about it.”

  “Was he a lot older?”

  “Only about five years. But that’s a lot when you’re a teenager.”

  Wyatt clenched the steering wheel tighter, already angry on my behalf for something that happened years ago. “So what happened? Did he break your heart?”

 
“In a way. I found out the hard way he was only using me to get back at my brother. Then he snuck into my room late one night—completely strung out on who-knows-what.”

  The veins in Wyatt’s neck grew taut and his nostrils flared when he said, “Did he take advantage of you, Georgia?” There was vengeance in his voice.

  “No. Calm down, Thor. My brother saved me. Actually, it was our dog, Lady. If it wasn’t for her barking...”

  “I can’t wait to meet your dog. And I’m not gonna lie. I’d like to meet your brother, too.”

  I laughed. “You will.”

  “So, the guy—Jorge—did he go to jail?”

  I sighed, remembering how long it took for Jorge to screw up bad enough for any charges to stick. “Eventually.”

  It wasn’t until my brother met Beth—when her then-roommate fell victim to Jorge. Will went to Mexico to track him down. It was years later than I’d hoped, but at least now Jorge couldn’t hurt anybody ever again.

  Moving on. I was ready to change the subject.

  “Slug bug.” I punched the air between us because I couldn’t reach Wyatt’s arm.

  “What?”

  “Slug bug. You don’t know that game? When you see a Volkswagen bug—“

  “I know the game,” he interrupted. “But there hasn’t been another car for miles. Let alone a VW.”

  “I was just getting us started. Want some fudge?” I dipped into my pocket for the napkin of treats I slipped from the church. Wyatt had his own stash, but I figured we’d raid his pockets later.

  “Heck yeah. Don’t hold out on me.” He took a hand off the wheel to reach out for some fudge. I swatted it.

  “Just keep driving and try to stay on the road this time.”

  “Yes, ma’am, Miss Darcy.”

  We traveled for several hours singing Christmas carols, devouring fudge and A.J.’s banana bread (which was uh-may-ZING) and reminisced about our favorite gifts from Santa. Mine was a dollhouse. Wyatt’s was a Navajo drum. It was the best thing ever to take a peek into Wyatt’s life. He spoke freely about his hopes and dreams, how he switched majors too many times to count, and all the spec screenplays he’d written but tucked away in a file never to see the light of day. I encouraged him to dust them off and send them out.