by Jeff Shelby
So the computers had been returned to Prism, much to everyone's excitement. The one person who hadn't been able to share in the excitement was Mrs. Bingledorf. The board had gotten wind of her interviewing elsewhere and immediately terminated her contract, handing control of the school over to Mr , . Watson, the assistant principal director , a man who had nearly thirty years of experience in education and w ho seemed happy to take over the task.
And he'd Mr. Watson asked me to keep on with the talent show, telling me that whatever money we raised would go toward purchasing more computers and upgrading the lab.
With all of the pressure off, I told him I'd be thrilled to.
So Emily and I were waiting backstage to do our lip - synch routine to “Footloose.” The show seemed to have been mostly a success so far, with the participants having fun and the crowd applauding loudly. I think it was didn't know for sure, but I thought it was because it was far easier to have a good time when we all knew that the fate of the school's technology was no longer resting on the success of the fundraiser.
“And we get to go get my new iPhone tomorrow, I get my phone back immediately after we get off stage, right?” Emily asked, again messing with her hair. “Because you promised.”
I'd had to make some more promises in order to ensure Emily's participation and to get her to agree to perform “Footloose” with me. “ “ Yeah, yeah . Tomorrow. But ,” I said. “But let's focus on tonight our performance .”
“No,” she said, frowning. “ Let's just ge I just want to get it over with t tonight over with so I can start rebuilding my life after it's ruined on stage here in just a moment.” .”
“So dramatic,” I said.
She stuck her tongue out at me.
Jake materialized from the curtain wearing a tuxedo that fit him perfectly. He scanned the notecards in his hand, then pointed at me with the microphone. “You guys are next.”
Emily groaned .
“ I know,” I said. “We're ready.”
He nodded, then smiled. “I have to admit, you pulled it off. It's going really well. People are having fun.”
“ You doubted me?”
“ Never,” he said, shaking his head. “I doubted others.”
“ Hmm.”
“ But I'm really thinking we need to get you your licen se,” he said.
“ My license for organizing talent shows?” I fluffed my hair, my fingers touching the crimped curls I'd styled for our act. “Or my beauty license?”
“ Neither,” Jake said. His eyes lingered on my hair, though. He loved curls.“Your investigator's license. Not only did you pull this show off, you solved the thef t. You're three for three now.”
While I was happy that we'd figured out what had happened to the computers, I was ready to be done with mischief and mayhem for awhile.
“ No,” I said. “I do not want to be a private eye. I just want to be a mom and a wife.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Well, you've got those two down. And like it or not, you seem to have the other one down, too. I told you before. You could start your own business. ”
“ You were kidding.” I stole a quick glance around the backstage area, looking for Emily. She'd disappeared when we started talking and I saw her leaning against the wall, a dark-haired guy holding a violin and smiling at her.
“ I was sort of kidding,” he said. He smiled at me. “Look, as much as I tease you about your...inquisitive nature, the fact is, it's not going away. And if this is something you like to do, the investigating...” His voice trailed off.
“ No,” I said, shaking my head. “I'm just looking for some peace and quiet for awhile.” I glanced at Emily again. The boy had moved closer, his hand bracing the wall behind her. “Although I might be investigating that really soon...”
He chuckled. “That kid doesn't stand a chance.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek. “Alright, I need to check on the rest of our acts. I'll try not to butcher yo ur name when I introduce you.”
“ Yeah, you do that,” I said, laughing as he strode off.
“Daisy!” Harriet Hollenstork said, shuffling up to me. “This is turning out magnificent!”
I turned away from my pouting daughter and smiled . “Thanks ,” I said, smiling. .”
Harriet phoned me earlier in the week with exciting news. The school would be using their store to upgrade the lab and to purchase anything new with the funds from the show. She'd thanked me about a million times and brought the PTA out in force, helping to man the door and run the backstage area for the show. .
“Harold is out there,” she said, peeking at through the thin opening between the curtain and the stage. “And he just wanted me to tell you thank you again.”
“You don't need to keep thanking me,” I said. “I'm glad it's all worked out.”
“For everyone,” she said, grinning. “Yes, for everyone. Okay, I need to go check on a couple of the kids. Good luck!”
She shuffled off . and Emily rejoined me, her hands fidgeting nervously.
“You're, like, the school hero now,” Emily observed.
“Right? Maybe I should get a cape or something . ”
“Oh my God. Whatever.”
“Some boots? Some tights?”
“You are so weird, Mom.”
I was about to suggest getting a shirt with a giant, fancy D on it when Miles Riggler waved at me from the other side of the dressing area and . He made his way over to us. gingerly across the stage, his large, re d , clown shoes about ten sizes too big on his feet.
“You two all ready?” he asked.
Emily shrugged.
I smiled. “Think so.”
“Awesome,” he said. “And I haven't had a chance to say thank you this week with everything that's been going on. So thank you.” He paused . , then held out a key. “I just brought this with me. I didn't want to leave it under the mat or anything.”
I took my house key. He'd shown up at five on the button at our house to use the Internet, part of our deal to get him on stage. “Thank you. You got done what you needed to get done?”
He nodded. “ Yeah. And I had some other news I wanted to share with you.”
“Other news?”
He turned so his back was to Emily. “The class I was taking?” he whispered. “I worked with my instructor to speed it up. I finished it. And passed it.”
“That's great,” I said, genu n inely happy for him.
“Still a few more to go,” he said, smiling. “But I have a better idea of what I'm doing now. So thank you. For all that stuff.”
“You're welcome,” I said. “Very welcome.”
He stepped back. “ You guys have fun. I'm gonna go watch I need to finish getting ready . , ” he said. “Break a leg!”
He descended the stairs that led to the seating area of the theater. headed back toward the dressing room area.
“What was he whispering about?” Emily asked.
“Just stuff about the computers,” I said. “He's just very happy that it's all over with.”
“Yeah, well, I'll be happy when this is all over with if I can manage not to not make a fool out of myself,” she said, frowning.
I took my daughter by the shoulders. “Emily, there will be plenty of times in your life that you will make a fool of yourself. You have my genetics. It's going to happen.”
She stared at me.
“But it doesn't mean you're a fool,” I said. “There's a big difference. So relax. Laugh at yourself. Have fun. This Because this is going to be fun.”
“This is going to be torture,” she said, shrugging out of my grip. “And we are going to the phone store as soon as it opens tomorrow you're giving me back my phone the minute we walk off the stage .”
I laughed. We did look looked ridiculous . S – s pandex pants, neon tops, bandanas . C , a c omplete 80's ensemble. And she probably would be embarrassed for that night. But I hoped that at some point she would look back on this and laugh about it and maybe be even be g
lad that we'd done it together. I didn't know for sure that she would, but I hoped she might.
“Stop laughing,” Emily said, but she smiled when she said it. Applause erupted from the other side of the curtain and a high school boy strutted off the toward the stage and around the curtain with his guitar.
Emily sighed. “Okay. I think we're up.”
“ Okay. “ Are you ready?” I asked her.
“No, but oh well,” she said. “Are you ready?”
It had been a long two weeks. I was ready to go back to my version of normal life. And it was waiting for me just as soon as I completely embarrassed myself onstage in front of a bunch of people I didn't know.
I put my arm around my daughter. “I am so ready.”
THE END
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Here's the first chapter of the next book in the Moose River mystery series, FOUL PLAY, coming in January of 2015!
ONE
“Guess what, Mom?” Grace said, bursting through the kitchen door. “I'm gonna be a star!”
I was sitting at the table with her older siblings, having been coerced into playing a game with Will and Sophie. Emily, our usually anti-social teen, had decided to sit in with us and we were currently in the middle of a hotly contested round of Taboo.
“No one cares,” Will growled at her. “Emily, your turn.”
Emily smiled at her brother, who she was currently beating the pants off of. “Are you sure you don't want to listen? You could probably use the break and maybe get back in the game.”
“It's your turn!” he yelled, staring at the ceiling. “Just go.”
Sophie stared at him, then started laughing. “You really might have a heart attack.”
“Oh my God!” he growled again. “Both of you, shut up!”
Both girls giggled and then high-fived one another.
I focused on Grace. “Why are you going to be a star?”
She climbed into my lap and held a bright yellow piece of paper an inch from my eyes. “Because of this.”
I grabbed the paper and held it out in front of me. It was an advertisement for the Moose River Youth Theater Company. They were casting for Snow White and looking for kids of all ages to try out. I squinted, trying to read the fine print. The fees looked reasonable and the practices and performances were at Moose River High School, which was just down the street from our house.
“Well, maybe,” I told her, not wanting to commit until I could get more details. We'd already had one experience with local community theater and I wasn't sure I was interested in a second helping.
“Mom!” she cried. “Jake already said I could!”
“I already said you could do what?” Jake hollered from the kitchen, kicking the door shut behind him, his arms loaded with grocery bags.
“Snow White!” Grace yelled back.
Will cleared his throat loudly. “Is anyone gonna play? Because if not, I quit.”
“If you quit, you still lose,” Emily said, grinning at him.
Sophia made an L-shape with her thumb and forefinger. “Lose.”
“L is for Lame. Which both of you are!” he said, shoving himself away from the table and stomping up the stairs toward his room.
The girls high-fived again.
Jake set the bags on the kitchen counter. “Oh, yeah. I might've said that.”
“You said what?” Sophie asked, whipping her head in her dad's direction.
“See?” Grace said, squirming in my lap. “He said yes!”
“He sometimes opens his mouth before he should,” I told her.
“I've never done that,” Jake said, kissing my cheek and sliding into the seat previously occupied by Will.
Emily began tossing game pieces back into the box.“What are you even talking about?”
“Were you not here for the last five minutes?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I was more interested in torturing Will.”
“Grace wants to be in a play,” Sophie informed her. Her long bangs were clipped back with a barrette, her huge blue eyes wide with excitement. “Snow White.”
Emily's hand froze over the game box and she looked at Grace. “Wait. The one at Moose River High? The new theater company?”
“Again, if you'd been listening, you would already know this,” I explained. “And now why are you so interested?”
“No reason,” she said quickly. She smashed the lid on the box and sprinted to her room, slamming the door behind her.
“'No reason' usually means there's totally a reason,” Jake correctly observed.
“Maybe she wants to be in the play, too,” Sophie offered helpfully.
“No!” Grace yelled, a scowl on her face. “It's my play!”
“It is not your play,” I reminded her. “And trust me, Emily will not be stepping on your toes on stage. It's not her thing.”
We all knew that. After her three minute lip-sync performance at the Prism Talent Show, I was convinced she'd never step foot on a stage again.
“I looked at the practice times,” Jake said, yawning and stretching. “No conflicts. And she's always wanting to do plays, so when I saw it on the board at the store, I just grabbed it.”
I nodded. If any of the kids had a proclivity for the dramatic, it was definitely Grace. She was expressive, effusive and loud. She also had an uncanny knack for turning the tiniest things into monumental obstacles. The previous week, she'd lost a shoe and had run around the house, crying and screaming about how she was never going to find the shoe and it was her favorite shoe and she'd never wear another shoe out of deference to the lost shoe.
Sophie had found it five minutes later, shoved behind the couch.
“And it's not expensive,” Jake said. “At the least, she can try out.”
“And it's not North Town Community Theater and Connie Evener, “ I added, referring to one of the local gossips who always seemed to have her nose in other people's business.
Jake made a face. “Yeah, I'm not doing that again.”
Grace had participated in one play before and the production of the Wizard of Oz had turned out fine. It was the gossip we'd encountered there – mostly amongst the parents and the less than congenial director - that had prevented us from signing her up for another play.
I read further down the flyer. “Says parents have to volunteer.”
He shrugged. “So? We can do that.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Since when are you so willing to volunteer? If I remember correctly, you were the first one to complain about the volunteer hours we had to do at Prism.”
“Well, yeah,” he said, grinning. “But that little talent show you put on a month ago took care of our volunteer hours for the next three years there. So, with that out of the way, volunteering for a little play doesn't sound so bad...”
“My 'little' talent show?” I folded my arms across my chest and stared at him. “Little?”
“You know what I mean,” he said. He reached across the table and squeezed my arm. “Besides, we don't even know what volunteering at this theater entails. It's probably something simple like taking tickets or running concessions.”
“Or painting massive, detailed sets,” I said, remembering the pieces we'd had to paint for the Wizard of Oz as part of our volunteer commitment there.
“Could I do it, too?” Sophie asked. “Since I didn't get to do the other play Grace was in?”
I felt a twinge of guilt. Sophie had mentioned half-heartedly that she'd wanted to be in The Wizard of Oz but neither Jake nor I had taken her seriously.
&n
bsp; “Yeah!” Grace said. “We could be those dwarves! Since Mommy and Jake wouldn't let us be Munchkins together!”
The twinge turned in to full-blown guilty conscience.
“Of course you can.” I set the flyer on the table. “I'll bet they need boys, too.”
Jake smiled. “I'll bet.”
“You mean for Will?” Sophie asked.
I nodded.
“Oh my gosh,” she said, giggling. She turned to look at Jake. “He probably won't like that.”
“Yeah, well, he doesn't like a lot of things,” I told her. “Until he actually does them.”
The more I thought about it, the more I thought it would be good for all three of them. Something local, something regular, something fun. I was always looking for something different to expose them to, something they hadn't done before, and something where they might make a new friend or two. Our first theater experience hadn't gone so smoothly, but a new group and a fresh outlook might benefit everyone. I thought this play just might fit that bill.
“So, wait,” Grace said, staring at me intently, her hazel eyes bright with anticipation. “Are you saying yes we can do it then?”
Sophie and Jake joined her in staring at me.
I finally nodded. “Yes, you can be a star.”
FOUL PLAY, the fourth book in the Moose River mysteries, will be available in January of 2015!
Table of Contents
Alibi High By Jeff Shelby
Copyright
Books by Jeff Shelby
ONE
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THREE
FOUR
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TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
