by Emma Scott
When it came time for our curtain call, we slunk onto the stage languidly; long-legged steps in our high heels. I slung my arm on my co-inmate’s shoulder and tried to look sexy and tough in our curtain-call pose, but the lights had come down and I found my people in the audience.
They were all there, and I wished I had Sawyer’s photographic memory; I’d have taken a thousand photos of my parents looking proud of me; my mother dabbing her eye.
Of Max clapping his hands so hard, I was afraid he’d hurt himself.
Of Beckett trying to be stoic as he fought back strong emotion, but the shine in his eyes gave him away.
And Zelda who didn’t bother to hide her tears.
And Sawyer…
Sawyer’s seat was empty.
My heart dropped but before I could contemplate it, the Merry Murderesses had to relinquish the stage to Mama Morton, and the rest of the Chicago cast that had become a second family to me.
After Velma and Roxie took their bows, the entire cast stormed the front of the stage with clasped hands to bow. The energy surged through us, hand to hand, and now we were free to break character and smile. But Sawyer still wasn’t there.
Maybe he had to use the bathroom, or Alice needed help with Olivia.
Ushers passed out bouquets of flowers to the dancers from audience members, as the emcee strolled onto the stage. He held a microphone in one hand and a bouquet of Gerber daisies in another, all white.
“Now, hold on folks,” the emcee said. “Before we wrap this up, we have a very special little guest who wants to say something to one of our Merry Murderesses. Darlene…? Would you step forward, love?”
I stared for a moment, unable to breathe or move until one of the dancers nudged my elbow. I came forward and the emcee put the bouquet in my hand.
“You have a fan, Darlene,” he said, then looked stage right. “Come on out here, little sweetheart.”
Olivia toddled out from stage right with Sawyer holding her hand as she raced toward me. The audience cooed at the cuteness before them, Olivia in her puffy yellow dress, her little legs working.
“Here,” Olivia said, holding a black velvet box in her hand. “This for you.”
I had no words. The crowd reacted for me, gasps and murmurs and a few ohhhs.
“That was supposed to come last,” Sawyer said, moving to stand before me. “I was freaking out that doing this here was a bad idea,” he said and glanced nervously at the crowd. “Now I’m sure of it. How do you do this every night?”
I shrugged and laughed. My heart was pounding in my chest, I could hardly hear myself talk.
“Here go, Mama,” Olivia said, still trying to give me the box.
I bent to touch her cheek, then stood to face Sawyer. “She keeps calling me her Mama.”
“Would you…?” His voice cracked and he tried again. “Would you want to be her mom? Because what I’m about to ask…I’m asking for her, too. For both of us.”
I nodded, tears spilling down and the audience took a collective intake of breath.
“I would be honored to be her mommy,” I whispered.
Sawyer’s jaw clenched and he got down on one knee, next to Olivia. The audience oooohed and awwwwed, but I hardly heard them.
Sawyer put one arm around his daughter. “Give it to her now, honey.”
“Here go!” Olivia said, and offered me the velvet box.
“Thank you, baby,” I managed. I took the box, but couldn’t open it. “My hands are shaking,” I whispered to Sawyer.
“Mine too.” He took the box from my hand and opened it on a small, square-cut diamond solitaire in a ring of white gold.
My hands flew to my mouth and I felt the energy of the audience wrap around us in joyful anticipation.
“Darlene Montgomery,” Sawyer said, his voice ringing out into the auditorium, clear and loud. “Will you marry me?”
I could only nod at first, my voice silenced by happiness and tears, and the future that was waiting on the other side of this question.
“Yes,” I whispered, and fell to my knees too. “Yes,” I said, louder. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Of course, I will.”
The audience went crazy. Underneath the noise and lights, I kissed Sawyer, and tasted his tears that mingled with mine. Then I turned to Olivia and held her close.
“Can I be your Mommy, sweet pea?”
Olivia gave me a perplexed baby look that said, I believe we have already established this, silly woman. Aloud, she said. “You my Mama.”
Sawyer looked about ready to fall apart, and I knew that the last thing my stoic man wanted was to burst into tears in front of fifteen hundred people. I hugged Olivia, and we got to our feet. Sawyer slipped the ring on my finger, and held my hand tight as he kissed me again. The crowd swelled with applause and cheers.
In that perfect moment, Olivia slipped one of her little hands into mine, the other into his, and she held on. And we held on to her—and each other—just as tightly.
The worlds of a poor, aspiring actor and a well-to-do, but troubled girl collide in a small Midwestern town.
In Harmony, coming February, 2018
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