Set the Stage

by Karis Walsh

  She had mixed feelings about seeing this play, but she had felt the comforting presence of her memories of her grandparents all day, along with the thrill of anticipation because she’d be watching Emilie speaking the words that had originally drawn Arden to her. She hurried up the steps and handed her ticket to an usher, following the throng of playgoers into the theater.

  She loved this space, but tonight she barely registered the whitewashed walls and dark beams of the Tudor-style theater because she was intent on finding her seat and distracted by thoughts of Emilie. Until she glanced up and saw the set. She stopped abruptly, and the couple behind her bumped into her.

  “Sorry,” all three of them spoke at once. Arden smiled over her shoulder at them and moved forward again. As soon as she was in her seat, with a wool blanket wrapped around her legs and her heavy coat buttoned against the chill night air, she let herself soak in the scenery. The stylized trees and distant castle added color and fantasy to the stark theater, and the floor of the stage had been transformed with a layer of bright green moss and scattered flowers. The contrast between this set and the strangely twentieth century setting of Merry Wives was startling.

  When she was able to drag her gaze away from the stage, Arden saw that the children in the audience—and many of the adults, too—were as mesmerized as she was. She was hopefully going to be able to elicit similar responses with her small stages in the park, but the thought of creating a fantasy world on a grand scale like this made her feel a coil of excitement building inside. She had never been able to project herself into the theater world before, and she had only been an observer as her parents and the few company people she met had left Ashland, driven to pursue their dreams.

  Now, though, she could almost see the attraction of actively living a theater life, not just passively sitting in the audience. All because of Emilie. She had inspired Arden that day in the park, when she had played Titania among the trees, and the stages Arden was planning were the result. Would it end there? Arden had always known she would follow in her grandparents’ footsteps. They had lived a settled life here in Ashland, giving Arden the stability she had needed as a child. Arden had subconsciously been doing the same thing, although—as Emilie had pointed out—she didn’t have anyone relying on her to provide a stable home. She suddenly had a feeling she could do anything, and go anywhere. But she had hoped she would be able to find someone local someday, someone who would stay here with her and build a life with her. Someone who would be as appealing as the actors she found so damned attractive, but without any of the excessive drive or drama they tended to bring into relationships with them.

  She shifted uncomfortably on the hard seat, pulling her blanket more snugly around her. Emilie was everything Arden found desirable—she was passionate and ambitious and fiery. But she was also grounded, somehow, and Arden had never felt as centered and sure of herself as she felt when Em was around.

  She was relieved when the lights dimmed and the play began because it forced her to stop thinking about Emilie and how she made Arden feel capable of living out her wildest dreams—ideas as fantastical as the play she was about to see—and made her concentrate instead on the show unfolding in front of her.

  Luckily, the production was enough to wholly capture Arden’s mind. Even the air particles she was breathing felt changed somehow, and Arden was caught in the past—in her childhood memories of the play—and in the present, so she was able to escape thoughts of the future, for the most part. She had a brief lapse when Emilie first appeared onstage, looking ethereal and powerful all at once, but Arden let go of anything resembling hope or possibility and instead paid attention only to what was happening in front of her.

  Emilie was magical onstage. Not as effortless and transporting as she had been when she thought she was alone in the woods, but still, she lit up the stage whenever she was standing on it. She had a charismatic vibrancy that Arden had glimpsed in Merry Wives and had seen full force the day they had first met. Even if Emilie was never able to reveal all her talent in front of an audience, she still was destined to be a star.

  Arden stayed in her seat during intermission, curled under her blanket and trying not to let the real world intrude on her thoughts. She wasn’t completely successful. She had thought she could escape the pain of Emilie’s eventual departure from Ashland by embracing her friendship and not pushing for a romantic relationship, but her heart had somehow gotten snared anyway. She would never wish for Emilie to fail, and she would be thrilled if Em ever managed to show her true potential and break down the barriers between giving a good performance and really becoming the character she was playing. But Arden was going to hurt when she left, no matter whether they had slept together or not. She had been foolish to think that refraining from sex would make a difference in her connection to Emilie.

  Maybe she needed to look more fully into her own dreams. Arden unfolded her legs and leaned forward again, noticing the small details of the set. The way certain sections of the stage were framed to highlight the scenes that took place within them. The way colors and shadows gave depth and interest without detracting from the prominence of the actors. The stages she was going to make in the park could do the same thing, not just on a smaller scale, but on a more intensified one. She’d be showcasing an actor’s monologue or a brief scene, and her sets would each have a story to tell, helping to flesh out the scenes played upon them. She checked all her pockets, but she had left her pencils in her work jeans. She’d have to remember the ideas flowing through her mind.

  The distraction helped, and the intermission seemed to speed by. Maybe she could avoid the pain of eventually being left behind by igniting her own ambition, and not watching the ambitions of others from the sidelines, waving good-bye as they left her alone.

  Maybe. Right now, though, she would watch Emilie’s dreams sparking to life in front of her. The lights dimmed again, and Arden smiled as the actors returned to the stage. She ignored the easy flow from thoughts of her future to thoughts of Emilie’s, as if they could possibly be intertwined in some way, and let herself get lost in Shakespeare’s words.

  *****

  Emilie hurried to get changed into her street clothes after the performance. The mood in the tunnels and the green room was high as the entire cast celebrated a successful show, and Emilie could see the same flow of emotions she was feeling in the expressions of the rest of the actors. The thrill of being onstage was waning already, but it surged now and again and overcame the mix of weariness, satisfaction, and a strange sadness that surfaced after the adrenaline had drained out of her. Before the show, she was nothing but nerves, and after it, she was pummeled by the ups and downs of conflicting emotions. But during the play, she had been calm and soft. Happy to be acting again, to be part of the world she created with the other actors and the rapt audience. Happy to know Arden was in the audience, sharing the experience with her in some way.

  She used a spare few inches of mirror space as she cleaned off most of her stage makeup and carefully avoided noticing her chaotic after-show hairdo. She had resigned herself to the fact that she was going to spend the season looking like a family of birds had taken up residence in her curls, and right now she cared more about getting out of the theater and finding Arden than her appearance.

  Weaving quickly through the crowds—and getting stopped every few feet to either congratulate a cast member on a great performance or thank someone who was telling her the same thing—she eventually made it through the back exit and hovered at the edge of the Bricks. She stayed in the shadows, unnoticed by the horde of theatergoers, and searched for Arden.

  She finally spotted Arden where she was standing near the gift shop and scribbling something in a book. Emilie exhaled and felt her body relax for the first time all day, but the sensation made her stiffen again. She shouldn’t let someone else ground her like Arden did. She should let her own confidence carry her through the performance, and the awareness of a job well done soothe her back to n
ormal after the show. She needed to be careful not to rely on Arden too much, but at the same time, she couldn’t keep herself from wanting to celebrate with her tonight because she knew she had been good as Titania—not spectacular, but certainly not disastrous, either. For the first time since she had come to Ashland, she felt like she might survive the season and hold her own in the company, and Arden would understand what that meant to Emilie. Plus, Arden would need someone to talk to, as well, about what her grandparents would have thought of the production.

  So tonight she would ignore her concerns about her growing feelings for Arden and would just enjoy spending time with her. She stepped out of the shadows and walked across the Bricks, smiling at the people who recognized her from the cast and even signing a few programs along the way. Arden seemed to sense her approach, because she looked up from her writing and directly at her. Everyone else seemed to fade into the background when Arden grinned at her, but Emilie wasn’t going to worry about that either. Just for tonight.

  Arden met her halfway across the Bricks and pulled her into a tight hug.

  “You were great tonight,” she whispered in Emilie’s ear, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before stepping out of the embrace.

  “Thanks,” Emilie said, relieved she could get at least that one word out while her mind was reeling from Arden’s closeness, the sweet nectar-like scent of her—did she wash her hair with honey?—and the tingling feeling where Arden’s breath had grazed her ear. Emilie cleared her throat and pulled herself together. “The show seemed to go well.”

  Arden playfully punched her in the arm. “Seemed to go well? I think the standing ovation you got proves you have a gift for understatement.”

  Emilie smiled. The standing ovation had been for the entire cast, but someday—maybe—she would get one of her own. Still, the applause for her had seemed to swell a little, and the people who had talked to her out here had been warm with praise. “I feel like celebrating,” she said.

  Arden tilted her head to one side. “Champagne or ice cream?”

  “Ice cream,” Emilie said without hesitating. Her defenses were already weakened after the emotion-filled premiere day. She didn’t need to add alcohol to the equation.

  “I know the perfect place.” Arden linked her arm with Emilie’s and started walking. They blended into the dispersing crowds of people who were heading away from the theaters and back to hotels or out to Ashland’s bars and restaurants.

  “You really were amazing as Titania.” Arden gave her a nudge. “And you look different somehow. More sure of yourself, I guess. Does it help to have three opening nights out of the way?”

  Emilie sighed. “Absolutely. I guess I spent the last month feeling like an imposter here, but now I fit in as part of the company. It’s a relief.”

  Although she should want more than to merely fit in. She should want to be outstanding and memorable, and not feel so damned relieved just to have gotten through a performance without toppling over or forgetting her lines. She shook her head. She had been here a little over a month, and she was already feeling more confident. She’d let herself be satisfied with the small steps she’d taken tonight.

  “How many Midsummer Night’s Dreams have you seen over the years?” she asked. “It seems to be part of the standard repertoire here.”

  “I’ve probably seen this play more than any of the others, except maybe Hamlet.” Arden waved her playbill. “I should count these and find out. But this was honestly one of the better productions I’ve seen. Very magical and ornate. You could play Lady Godiva with all the hair they had on you.”

  “I practically am, since I’m only wearing some little bits of gauze and a bodysuit. I’m grateful for every strand in that wig.”

  Arden steered her down a side street and into a small diner. “Hopefully, they have someone guarding it. I might be tempted to break into the wig department and snip some of it off.”

  Emilie felt her cheeks flush, and she pretended it was because they had come out of the cold night and into the heated restaurant. She looked at the menu board with flavors written in different colored chalks and willed the blushing to subside.

  “What do you recommend?” she asked.

  “Well, first of all, I’d get rid of the bodysuit entirely…Oh, wait. Are you talking about the ice cream or your costume?”

  “The ice cream,” Emilie said with a mock stern look at Arden. But was she, really? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to entertain the idea of something more with Arden. Something more physical. More than the friendship she was trying so carefully to maintain. She had gotten through her first performances, and they should set the tone for the rest of her season. Her roles were safe, but they would give her a cautious reentry into the acting world, while still leaving room for her to have a life outside the company. A life that just might include Arden, for as long as Emilie remained in Ashland.

  Arden sighed dramatically. “Fine. Ice cream it is. If you want local flavor, you should try the pear and hazelnut. It’s my favorite.”

  The diner was crowded since two plays had finished close to the same time, but Emilie and Arden managed to find two stools together at the end of the counter. Emilie took a bite of the homemade ice cream, with chunks of sweet pear and crunchy hazelnuts, and closed her eyes.

  “Mmm. You were right. This is heavenly.”

  “Of course I was right. Just like I was right about you taking Ashland by storm,” Arden said in a smug tone as she licked apple pie ice cream off her spoon. Emilie watched her tongue capture the drips and decided she might be safer if she closed her eyes again. And kept them shut during the entire ice cream eating episode.

  Emilie concentrated on the bowl in front of her. “I don’t know if by storm is the right phrase. Maybe with a small breeze would fit better.”

  “Hey. Don’t sell yourself short, especially not to me. You have an amazing talent, Em.” Arden paused, then added in a softer tone, “It must be hard to return to acting after a few years away, but you’ve proven you belong on that stage with the rest of the cast.”

  “Thank you,” Emilie said quietly. She hadn’t told Arden much about her hiatus, and Arden had never pushed for more information, but Emilie felt open tonight. Willing to share more of herself with Arden. “It’s not just returning to acting, but returning to myself. There were times in Europe when I couldn’t even recognize who I was. Everything I loved and wanted was put on hold.”

  Arden hesitated, as if unsure whether she should ask her next question. “Surely you could have acted while you were there, couldn’t you? Even if your schedule wasn’t exactly the same as your ex’s, you could have had your own life. I mean, she wasn’t exactly holding you captive, was she?”

  Emilie paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. Arden’s words hurt because they echoed her own self-criticism.

  “I’m sorry,” Arden said, swiftly filling in the silent moment. “It’s just…you seem so strong and determined to succeed. It’s hard to imagine you letting someone else control your life.”

  Emilie put her spoon down and covered Arden’s hand with her own, enjoying the soft warmth of skin connecting with skin even though her mind wasn’t comfortable with the conversation. “Don’t be sorry. You’re right. Again. I gave up control over my life while I was there, and I don’t understand why. It started before we left, after I had gotten some great reviews for a play I was in. I got scared for some reason. I wasn’t sure I could live up to the potential they saw in me, and I thought it would be easier to take a break. My fear combined with her jealousy, and it sort of spiraled downward from there until I lost myself.”

  Emilie paused. A more self-confident girlfriend wouldn’t have encouraged her to give up her dreams so easily. Someone like Arden would have kept after her to keep trying, to see how far she could go. But no matter what anyone else had done, Emilie had been the one to acquiesce every step of the way, and sometimes she hated herself for it.

  “She could have been more supportive,
and we could have shared opportunities on tour, but she didn’t like to have anyone else in the limelight with her.” In Emilie’s deepest heart, where she was free to be completely honest, she could see the truth—she had always been the more talented of the pair, with more glowing reviews and more job offers, and her girlfriend hadn’t been happy about that. Perhaps Emilie had needed to experience firsthand what jealousy could do to a relationship. “Looking back, I guess it was good for me to have someone like her to force me to stand on my own. To follow my dreams without anyone else’s help.”

  “Maybe,” Arden said slowly, cautiously. “But maybe having someone who wasn’t trying to keep you down in order to satisfy her own ego would have made you stronger, as well. Someone who cared about you and believed in you might have.”

  Emilie shrugged casually, but inside she knew Arden’s words made sense. But her own interpretation—that she had learned the important lesson of not relying on anyone else—helped to soothe the guilt and pain those wasted years caused. She couldn’t let go of her justifications yet. She wasn’t sure how the lessons she had learned in Europe fit in with her growing desire to get closer to Arden, so she stopped trying to figure it out for the moment, and thought about Arden instead. Had she ever had someone encourage her to dream and grow, or had she always been around people who were happy to have her stay where she was? Girlfriends in the company who were focused on their own careers. Grandparents who loved her, but who perhaps were relieved when Arden seemed settled in Ashland because they had already had a son and daughter-in-law leave them to pursue their own goals. If Emilie selfishly gave in to her attraction to Arden, would she be any better than they were?

  All Emilie knew for certain was that the day had finally taken its toll, and she was exhausted. Decisions, regrets, and serious contemplation would have to be put on hold for now. They finished their ice cream in silence.