She smiled. “If Prudie lets me.”
Chapter 44
Three weeks later
Opening night of The Nutcracker
Applause carried me from the Opera House stage like a rushing wave as I made my exit at the end of act 1. Madame Monachova waited for me in the wings, leaning on a carved wooden cane.
She held out her arm and embraced me. “Lovely, just perfect,” she whispered, her eyes shining.
Cody rushed toward us. In his Snow Prince costume for act 2, he looked regal, but his words tumbled. “Have you heard? Margot’s AWOL. I heard someone on Twitter saw her at the airport getting on a private jet.”
“What! She’s supposed to dance Dewdrop tonight!”
“She was here, warmed up, in her makeup—everyone saw her! Then she disappeared! Serge is in a panic. He wants to talk to you.”
As Madame and I followed him, I remembered there were three understudies for the Dewdrop role: Kellye still had her arm in a cast from her fall and couldn’t dance. Serge had another dancer learning the part, but she had had to fly to Dallas for a family funeral. That left Dawn Atkins.
“Dawn’s available, right? Where is she?”
“She’s on her way but is stuck in traffic at the bridge. An accident closed it and the backup is miles long. The snowstorm started and it’s snarling everything.”
Bad weather had been predicted, but the theater was full of families eager to start their holiday season with The Nutcracker.
“Looks like Dawn might not make it on time.”
Madame Monachova smiled. “Not to worry. Allie knows that dance. She can do it.” She pulled me close. “You’ve regained your strength. You must do it.”
I swallowed. I did know that dance, in my bones, in every muscle, every tendon. Even though the doctor hadn’t officially cleared me to dance on pointe again, I’d danced through the Dewdrop variation dozens of times in the studio at the college, a million times in my mind. I just hadn’t done it in rehearsal or in front of an audience of over a thousand people.
Serge rushed to me. “Allie, can you go on for Margot?”
“Yes, of course.” We moved en masse to the dressing room—I had barely enough time to change. “What happened to Margot?”
Virginia helped me out of my gown and into the Dewdrop costume. “Done a runner. Can you believe it?” Virginia fastened my bodice as we spoke. “Cody left his GoPro on a table at the top of the stairs at your group house. It was set to be motion activated. And it caught her!”
“Caught her? What do you mean?”
Cody ran into the dressing room.
“Cody! What happened?”
He waved his phone. “Look at this. Remember the motion-activated video camera I got for my birthday? I had the footage sent to my phone and I didn’t check it until today. I was so shocked, I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly. I showed it to Serge. Margot must’ve heard us talking about it.”
He turned the screen toward me. The time stamp was the day Kellye’d had her accident.
There onscreen was the doorway to our cellar stairs. It was directly across from a table where we all used to drop our keys and phones.
I heard Kellye’s voice, then Margot’s, their words indistinct. Then Margot moved into the frame and went down the cellar stairs. She bent out of view. A few minutes later, she came back upstairs.
The video stuttered and then Kellye was heading down the same stairs, singing, holding a basket full of laundry in front of her. Just as I had when I fell down those same stairs.
I clutched my throat.
Just as Kellye stepped out of view, we heard a terrified shriek. We all winced, imagining her plummeting down the steep stairs to the cement floor below, her body thudding against the warped wooden steps. Then Margot dashed onscreen, went down the stairs and came back quickly. She shouted over her shoulder, “I’ll get help!” She carried scissors and looped something around her hand. The motion made me think of Aunt Gully winding yarn. Then Margot stuffed it all into a shopping bag.
“What was she putting in the bag?” Madame said.
For a moment, I relived my own terrifying plunge down those steep stairs. I’d always thought that I’d tripped on something, but had found nothing on the steps when I checked days after my accident. “Fishing wire. Practically invisible but strong. Margot could’ve tied that across the steps and attached it to old nails that jutted from the walls. Then she simply cut it and removed it.”
“My God, she could have killed you or Kellye!” Virginia swore.
Too many thoughts swirled in my mind. Poor Kellye! Margot’s treachery. Serge’s worry—I hadn’t rehearsed at all. He was taking a chance. I was taking a chance. But I knew I was strong enough. Adrenaline coursed through me like a rip current.
Madame squeezed my hand. She thought I was ready.
I heard Aunt Gully’s voice in my head: Back on your toes. Where you belong.
I took a deep breath. My body relaxed.
Virginia smoothed my hair and jammed in pins. “Ouch!”
She sprayed me with a cloud of hair spray. “You haven’t practiced with this crown, and Margot said it was heavy. That bitch.”
I laughed. Virginia pulled me close. “Merde!” She whispered the dancer’s traditional swear/good-luck wish. No one ever says break a leg to a dancer.
“We must hurry.” Her eyes aglow, Madame Monachova kissed my cheeks. “I don’t want to miss a moment.”
We all rushed back to the wings, the music and lights of the stage like a doorway to another world. My introduction played.
Serge blew me a kiss. With one last nod from Madame, I stepped onstage.
AUNT GULLY’S NEW ENGLAND CLAM CHOWDER
If you’re in the mood for New England comfort food, you can’t go wrong with clam chowder. Purists say that New England clam chowder must be made with salt pork, but if you don’t have any you can use bacon for a tasty variation. If you like creamier chowder, substitute half and half for the milk.
1 medium onion, chopped very fine
½ cup lean salt pork, cut into small pieces (or 3 pieces bacon)
2 6.5-oz. cans minced clams, drained, but be sure to reserve the liquid. You can also use frozen minced clams—just defrost.
1 small Russet potato, chopped fine (about 1 cup)
1 bay leaf
¼ tsp thyme
½ tsp salt
Pepper to taste
2 cups milk
1 bottle of clam juice (in case you want to add more clam flavor)
Oyster crackers
Sauce pan with lid
Cook and stir the salt pork (or bacon) and onion until the onion is soft (and the bacon is crisp if you used bacon. If so remove it now and reserve. Actually, who would discard bacon?).
Drain the clams, reserving the liquid. Add the liquid, potatoes, bay leaf, thyme, salt and pepper to the salt pork/onion mixture. Heat to a boil, then lower heat, cover, and simmer until the potato is very soft (10–15 minutes). If you need more liquid you can add some clam juice or water.
Add the milk and clams, stirring occasionally until they are heated through.
Adjust seasoning to your taste.
If you used bacon, crumble the pieces to garnish the chowder.
Serve with oyster crackers and enjoy!
Also by Shari Randall
Against the Claw
Curses, Boiled Again!
About the Author
A librarian and military wife, SHARI RANDALL lives in a drafty house by the sea. She loves books, art, antiques, travel, stationery shops, tea time, and dancing. Friend her on Facebook to learn more. You can sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Aunt Gully’s New England Clam Chowder
Also by Shari Randall
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
DRAWN AND BUTTERED
Copyright © 2019 by Shari Randall.
All rights reserved.
For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
www.stmartins.com
eISBN: 9781250116758
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St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / March 2019
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
Drawn and Buttered Page 24
