“But,” he assured her on their date, “I knew my lines perfectly. I feel confident about my abilities.”
Lois had never seen this side of Martin before. She knew him only to be the fumbling sidekick and trailing shadow of Mayor Wullisworth. At dinner, he was quite charming, and though he wasn’t really her type, she’d managed to say yes at his insistence they go out together again.
However, Lois also couldn’t deny her attraction to the sheriff, who, to her surprise, had shown up on time to rehearsal, and even sounded enthusiastic about the fact that his role had grown larger.
She’d passed out pictures of the set design and copies of the rehearsal schedule and the newly revised play.
“Does anyone have any questions before we begin our read-through?” Lois asked.
Mariée raised her hand. “What kind of wardrobe am I going to have?”
“Yes, thank you for asking that question, Marlee. It’s an important one. For most of the play, you will be wearing jeans that are too tight around the waist, several different logo sweatshirts, and your hair will always need to be tied back in a bun because you decided to do layers and it backfired.”
Marlee looked disappointed. “Won’t I have a gown?” A gown?
“I am the love interest. Surely I get to dress up at some point, right?”
“Oh. Right. Well, we’ll discuss that at a later date, but I’m probably going to go with a black pantsuit that was fashionable back in the sixties but is all I—she—can afford.”
“I’ve actually got a great dress from my prom night a few years—”
“Who’s the director here?” Sorry.
“Listen, folks. This isn’t about you. You’re going to have to enter into these roles, play these characters. It’s going to take some stretching; you’re going to leave your comfort zone a bit. And if that means you’re wearing sequins and polyester, then that’s what it means. You gotta sell your character to the audience. If you don’t believe it, they’re not going to. Does everyone understand?”
They all nodded.
“Okay. Now. Let’s get started. Quiet, everyone. This is our first read-through. As we do this, I want you to think through your character, find your characters’ motivation. Why does he say certain things? Why does she act a certain way? I want everybody to concentrate.”
Everybody opened their scripts. But all Lois could think about was how good the sheriff smelled.
CHAPTER 11
“I JUST LOVE THE WAY you say that line,” Lois said, scooting a bit closer to the sheriff.
“Which line?”
“You there. Stop and put your hands up.”
The sheriff smiled. “I guess it’s because I’ve said that a time or two.” “It comes across so naturally.”
“What did you want to work on? I’m sure I’m the worst actor here. The list could be endless.”
“Oh, you’re not as bad as you think.” Lois slapped his arm. Goodness, there was a lot of solid arm there. She slapped it again, just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. No, there was indeed an actual muscle bulging. She stood, walked to center stage, and beckoned the sheriff to follow. “Now,” she said, “the thing that I wasn’t quite buying was your affection for Lotus.” Suck in your gut.
The sheriff stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it around nervously. “Yeah. I know this is acting, but I can’t say I’m going to be pulling it off very well. My wife passed on years ago, and I guess I’m out of practice at being a romantic. Plus, Marlee is like a daughter to me. She’s been friends with Ainsley since childhood. I kind of feel weird hitting on her.”
“Understood,” Lois said. “Just remember, it’s pretend. You’re playing a role, so you have to completely enter into the head of Bart, and Marlee is no longer Ainsley’s childhood friend. She is a beautiful middle-aged woman named Lotus with an extra twenty pounds to shed.” “Right.”
“It’ll help when she’s in costume.”
“Okay.”
“Have you ever heard of method acting?”
“No.”
“It’s the way certain actors prepare for certain roles. For instance, if an actor is playing a soldier, he might go to boot camp to see what it’s like.”
The sheriff took his finger out of his ear, checked it for wax, and then stuffed his hand in his jeans pocket.
“So,” Lois continued, “let’s do some method acting. I’m Lotus, you’re Bart. Let’s say we’re standing in the street. We’ve run into each other after the annual fair.”
“That’s not in the script, is it?”
“No, no. See, that’s method acting. You take your character out of the script, put him into a real life situation, and see how he does.”
“Huh.”
“So, let’s say we meet on the street. You’re not expecting to see Lotus. So, what do you say?”
“Hi Lois.”
“Lotus.”
“Hi Lotus.”
“Hi there, Bart. What are you doing out here so late?”
“Lois asked me to stay.”
“You must stay in character. Think of a reason why you’re out here so late.”
The sheriff sighed, looking a little defeated.
Lois whispered, “Like maybe you’re hunting down a bad guy.”
“I’m hunting down a bad guy.” “Oh, my. That sounds dangerous.” “Not really. Nothing dangerous happens around here.” “That’s because we have such a strong and stable sheriff.” Red circles glowed on the sheriff’s cheeks. “I do the best I can, ma’am.
She touched his arm. “Oh, don’t call me ma’am. Call me Lotus.”
“Okay. Lotus.”
“So,” she said, her finger tracing down his arm, “what are you doing now? I don’t see any bad guys around.”
The sheriff pulled at his mustache but seemed to try to stay in character. “I guess nothing.”
“Maybe you could join me for a cup of coffee.”
“Oh. Sure. Yes. Love to.”
Lois smiled. “Good! You’re doing terrific. Just remember, Bart is in love with Lotus, so he is probably going to initiate this little date.”
The sheriff swallowed, scratched his neck, and then said, “Why stop at coffee? Why don’t we go get something to eat?”
“Oh, Bart. That sounds wonderful.”
The sheriff looked proud of himself. “Well, c’mon! I’m hungry!”
Lois smiled tolerantly. “Remember your manners, Bart.”
“Oh.” He held out his arm. “Would you be so kind to accompany me? Lotus?”
“It would be my pleasure, Bart.” She took his arm, and a tingling sensation drifted from her head all the way down to her feet. They walked off the stage together.
When they stepped onto the carpet, the sheriff slapped his hands together. “How was that?”
Lois raised a seductive eyebrow. “Well,” she said. “As far as I can tell, we haven’t made it to the restaurant yet. Bart.”
“I don’t think I dressed for the occasion,” the woman said.
The man gave her the signal to be quiet. She wasn’t getting it, so he finally had to put his finger on her lips. He took her hand and guided her through the thick grouping of trees. Leonard Tarffeski watched these two from a distance, particularly the man, who had decided to follow Tarffeski yesterday after he got coffee. This guy was acting like Han Solo! All that was missing were two gigantic buns on either side of this chick’s ears.
Jabba the Hutt is waiting for you.
“I think I heard something slither through the leaves.”
Tarffeski chuckled. This guy was actually looking for the snake? This was great! What a moron!”
“Before I picked you up, I found snake tracks near the junkyard.”
“Butch,” she moaned, “I’m freaking out.”
He turned to her and gently held her shoulders. “Tammi, you have nothing to fear. I’m with you.”
Tarffeski doubled over with silent laughter. This guy was something else.
“I hate snakes.”
“I thought you told me your horoscope called you adventurous and fearless.”
Sounds like this dates a bust. What kind of guy would take a chick snake hunting? If you want to impress her, take her to a restaurant that serves snake, you idiot.
He pulled out his knife. The girl jumped backward. It was a long knife. “Don’t be afraid. I am highly qualified to use this knife. And a boa is no match for how quickly I can strike.”
Tammi didn’t look convinced. Tarffeski figured this guy would have another corny one-liner waiting.
“Sweetheart,” Butch said, “you have no worries. With one swift flick of my wrist, I can cut this snakes head off instantly.”
She folded her arms. “And exactly which head would that be? The left or right?”
“Look, if you’re going to date me, then you’re going to have to accept the fact that I live for danger. It’s part of who I am. I can’t change that about me.” He swept her hair out of her eyes. “You have nothing to fear. I will protect you.”
The girl actually looked convinced. And now madly in love. He was going to have to stop this nonsense. It was too painful to watch.
“But who will protect you?” Tarffeski stepped out of the shadows. He grinned at the two of them. Frankly, the knife was making him a little nervous, especially now that it was pointed toward him.
“Good evening,” Tarffeski said. “What are you two lovebirds doing out so late?”
“I could ask the same thing about you.”
“Impressive knife.”
“It came from overseas.”
“So did I.”
“You’re going to try to convince me that’s a real Australian accent?”
“It’s New Zealand.”
“New Zealand. What are you doing in Indiana?”
“I’m a snake hunter.”
“A snake hunter.”
“A professional snake hunter.” Tarffeski looked at Butch’s knife. “But unlike you, I respect the animal kingdom.” He patted the cloth sack hanging from his belt. “I have no plans to kill this strange and rare creature.”
Butch narrowed his eyes. “There’s something that’s not right here.”
“I would say it’s not right to bring such a lovely woman out here in the woods just to try to impress her.” He addressed Tammi. “A woman like you should be wined and dined, not taken out on a snake hunt.”
“Hey,” Butch said. “We have reservations at eight. So back off, snake man.
“The name is Leonard.”
“He does have a cool accent,” Tammi said. “I’ve never known anyone from New Zealand.”
Leonard stepped forward. “Why don’t you two kids go on, and leave the snake handling to the experts?”
“Good idea. I’m freezing. And I’m tired,” Tammi said.
Butch stared him down, but then turned to Tammi. “Sure, Tammi. Whatever you want.” He offered a smile. “I want you to be happy.”
“Wise choice,” Tarffeski said.
“I’m going to be watching you.”
“Watch and learn.”
“This guy is something else, isn’t he? Who do you think you’re fooling?”
“Be on your way, lad. I’ve got a snake to catch. And you have a girl yet to impress.”
Butch put his arm around Tammi and walked her back through the trees toward his car.
Tarffeski laughed to himself as he listened to them drive off. Then he hurried over to the junkyard.
CHAPTER 12
IT SEEMED IRREVERENT in a way, to squeeze icing onto the Strudel from a small, plastic casing. She put the Strudel into the toaster just as Melb inquired about it for the fourth time from the comfort of the living room couch. Not once in her life, ever, had she eaten a frozen toaster Strudel. The fact that it had gourmet written across the box did not help motivate her. And though she was a fan of strawberries and cream cheese, the very idea of making Strudel in a toaster seemed so improper. She turned the box over, but the ingredients looked more like a chemical experiment than a delicate pastry dish. But this was what Melb wanted.
Ainsley walked into the living room. Melb was stretched out on the couch, sipping her decaf coffee. She glanced tiredly at Ainsley. “This stuff tastes awful. Can’t you tell the difference? I think it’s making me more tired.”
“Your body is working overtime. Remember that. That little baby, probably the size of the nail on your pinky, is sucking all your energy. You’ll feel tired for a couple more months, but then you’ll start feeling really—”
Melb held up her hands.
“What?” Ainsley asked.
“Just heard the toaster pop up.”
Ainsley turned back to the kitchen, but heard a knock at the front door. Fairly certain Melb wouldn’t get up, she wiped her hands and went to answer it.
Upon opening the door, she saw the most beautifully dressed, pulled-together woman she’d ever laid eyes on. She was dressed in a light pink pantsuit, from head to toe, with a casual tee underneath. Her hair was pulled away from her face with a thick brown headband that matched her shoes. Delicate earrings glimmered in the morning light, along with a tiny diamond that hung around her neck. Her eyes, wide and blue and mesmerizing, held shimmery hints of color on the lids, framed with neat and tidy eyebrows. She grinned.
“Are you Ainsley Boone?”
Ainsley couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t been dressed by 9:00 a.m. Her hair, she realized, was sure to look a mess. She pulled her robe closed and tried to smooth the top of her hair.
“Yes. I’m Ainsley.”
The woman offered her hand. “Hi there. I’m Katelyn Downey.” “Hi,” Ainsley said, shaking her hand.
“I’m sorry to drop by without calling, but Reverend Peck said … “ She paused.
“Said what?”
“He said that it would be no problem. You’re always up and about.”
“I usually am. I have a … a houseguest … Anyway, yes, I usually am.”
“I’m so sorry to bother you. Should I come back another time? I wanted to discuss the possibility of you catering an event.”
“Oh. Um, no. Come in, please. Forgive the bathrobe.” She let the woman in but thought it might be better to direct her to the den. “Have a seat. Can I get you some coffee? Or a … a Strudel?”
“Oh, a Strudel sounds fabulous! Reverend Peck has been bragging about what a wonderful cook you are.”
“Well, these are … fr-fr—”
“Yes?”
“Frozen. Toaster. Encased in plastic.” “Oh.” The woman smiled. “Coffee is fine.”
Ainsley excused herself to the kitchen. She retrieved a cup and saucer from her china, and poured the coffee. She quickly took some sugar cubes, put them in a crystal bowl, poured half-and-half into the cream pitcher, and returned to the den with it all atop a silver platter … though her house shoes flopping against the wood floors were doing a good job of reminding her that even silver couldn’t hide the fact she hadn’t made it out of her bathrobe yet.
“Oh, thank you. I tell you, I don’t know what I would do without my coffee in the morning. Have you seen the new coffeehouse on Main?”
Ainsley nodded.
Katelyn plopped two sugar cubes into her cup, “I’ll be moving to Skary soon.” “Oh?”
“My husband and I are building. Just off Maple, near the outskirts.”
“Building what?”
The woman blinked. “A house.”
“So you’re not actually a resident of Skary? I didn’t think you looked familiar.”
“Not yet. But I’m excited to be one soon. I have a son. Willem. He’s five and can speak Spanish. My husband’s name is Michael. He’s a developer and former baseball player.”
“What made you want to move to Skary? We’re not exactly on the map anymore.”
“Oh, you mean since Boo stopped writing. He’s your husband, right?”
“Yes. And nobody really calls him Boo anymore. He goes by
Wolfe.” “This is such a charming little town. It has such character. Take your house, for example,” she said. “It’s beautifully decorated. Sits right atop a hill. Has that wonderful porch I’m sure you two must enjoy thoroughly. Is it about three thousand square feet?” “I have no idea how big it is.”
“We wanted our son to grow up in a place where he could enjoy clean air, nice people, and convenient living. It’s the best of both worlds, wouldn’t you say?”
Ainsley couldn’t agree, but she smiled pleasantly. She’d seen the big world, earlier this year when she was introduced to a life of fame and fortune. She didn’t much like it.
“What kind of event do you need catering for?”
“In a couple of weeks, the reverend and I are going to be unveiling a brand new children’s ministry at the church!”
“A children’s ministry?”
“Yes! We’re redoing the basement. We’ll have puppets and music and all kinds of wonderful activities for the kids while the parents go to church. And it will be for all ages. We’ll even paint a mural across the wall.”
“I haven’t heard a thing about this.”
She winked. “We’ve kept it top secret. We wanted to surprise everyone.”
“Do you even go to the church? I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you.” “Not yet. But soon. When our house is finished.” “We don’t have many children.”
“You offer parents activities for children, and they’ll bring their kids, their nephews, their neighbors. The power of free baby-sitting cannot be overestimated. Believe me, I pay our baby-sitter eight dollars an hour, and still have to order her a pizza.” She sighed and brushed her shiny hair off her shoulders. “So anyway, what we were thinking of was having a big party after church in two weeks. We’ll set up in the basement, have games for the kids, serve up some brownies and cookies and hot drinks. What do you think?”
“I can do brownies and cookies with no problem.”
She clapped her manicured hands together. “Perfect! The reverend will be pleased. He says you’re the best of the best.”
“That’s nice of him to say.” Ainsley smiled. “I do try to offer a pleasant atmosphere and delicious food, no matter what the—”
Boo Hiss Page 9
