Blake pulled up to the curb in front of the community center. “You ready for this?”
She tossed her shoulders back and raised her chin. “Oh yeah.”
He grinned. “You’re kind of cute when you’re trying to be tough.”
Pleasure shot through her. She made a face at him then hopped out of the pickup. Her heart raced. Get it together. She was a professional. This was no big deal. She’d volunteered at the children’s theater many times in LA. There was nothing to worry about. At least that’s what she told herself.
Chapter Six
Three hours into the first day of rehearsal, Estelle collapsed beside Kayla in the front row of the auditorium. “I had no idea how out of shape I’ve gotten.”
“Tell me about it,” Kayla said. “My feet hate me. I had no idea there’d be so much dancing involved. I’m not sure I’ll survive the summer.”
Estelle knew exactly how her friend felt. She’d never had to dance in a movie before, which was good since dancing wasn’t her thing. Granted, they were mostly waltzing, but when you’re not accustomed to it, whoo-boy it was tiring. “Rehearsals can be a killer, but by August, you’ll have forgotten all about how you feel today.”
“If I last that long.” She turned to face Estelle. Concern filled her eyes. “I’m worried I won’t be able to handle this. It’s a lot.”
“That’s why we learn in small chunks. Look around you. The kids are tired too, but excitement radiates off of them.” Which was exactly why she’d volunteered in LA. There was nothing like being around kids with their unfiltered joy of the arts. She was once like them, but time and experience had changed that.
“They do seem to be having fun.” Kayla took a drink from her water bottle. “Did you do children’s theater when you were a kid?”
“Only once, but it was the most fun I’d ever had. The acting bug bit me, and from that point on I was hooked.”
“That’s cool, and now you get to give back.”
“I guess so, although I hadn’t thought of being here like that.” Too often her life revolved around her own universe—being here was good.
“I should head home and relieve Derek.” Kayla stood.
“Wait.” Estelle heard the panic in her voice and tempered her tone. “You’ll be back tomorrow, right?”
“If I can move. Pray for me.” She hobbled toward the exits.
Poor Kayla. “I will.” She spotted Blake walking her way, and he didn’t look happy. A groan escaped her lips. “Now what?” she whispered to herself.
Blake pointed toward the auditorium doors. “Did I see Kayla leave?”
Estelle nodded. This morning had been a challenge, even for her.
“But we weren’t done with her.” His brow furrowed.
“Well, she’s done with us for today.”
His frown deepened then cleared. “It’s fine. You’ll step in for her.”
She pointed to the clock. “I’m done too.”
He did a double take at the time. “I should’ve scheduled an all-day rehearsal.” He whistled for everyone. Once the room quieted, he gave a short pep talk then dismissed the kids. “Why do I feel sick to my stomach?”
Estelle rested a hand on his shoulder. “It was the first day. Tomorrow will be better.” Truthfully, today had been tragic. The kids were all over the place with their abilities, and they were missing two key volunteers who were on vacation.
“It can’t get much worse.” He ran a hand down his face.
She bumped her shoulder into the side of his arm. “Come on. Put on a positive face. Everyone takes their cue from you.”
His features transformed into a smile that crinkled the skin around his eyes. “Better?”
“See. That wasn’t hard.” She tossed some encouraging words to the stragglers who were on their way out. Silence enveloped them—finally. She plopped back into a seat. “Wow. Just . . . wow.”
Blake eased into the chair beside her. “Yep. We get off to a rough start every year, though, so I don’t know why I panicked. Tomorrow is bound to get better.”
Estelle chuckled. “You don’t have to give me a pep talk too. But I appreciate the effort.” She reached over and gave his hand a quick squeeze.
A door at the back of the auditorium brushed open. Estelle looked over her shoulder. “It’s Mrs. Smith,” she whispered. “You want me to talk to her?”
“No. I will.” A grim look crossed his face before he stood to face the woman.
Mrs. Smith stopped a few feet from them. “I’ve come to tell you that Melody won’t be back.”
“Why?” Estelle blurted before thinking.
“She’s embarrassed to be playing one of the step-sisters. I know this isn’t actually Cinderella, but everyone knows it’s a remake, and it’s insulting to be one of the ugly step-sisters.”
Estelle shot a look to Blake, thinking he might want to respond, but he seemed to be at a loss for words, considering the dumbfounded look on his face. It was up to her.
“Melody is not ugly, nor will we make her be. As you stated this is not Cinderella, but rather inspired by it. Your daughter has a key role. I’m confused as to why she’d turn that down all because she’s embarrassed? Some of the best roles ever were difficult and the characters were undesirable. That’s what made the actors so amazing and why they won awards.” Estelle couldn’t help herself. If a person wanted to succeed in this business then they took the part offered. And this was a primo character.
Blake nodded.
Mrs. Smith stomped her foot. “My daughter had her heart set on playing Cindy.”
Estelle held back a chuckle at the woman’s theatrics. “I see. Well, as they say, there are no small parts, only small actors.”
Mrs. Smith glared at her. “I thought having you here would be an asset—that you’d recognize talent when you see it. But—”
“Enough.” Blake’s voice silenced them both. “If leaving is truly what Melody wants, then fine.”
“Mom,” a shaky voice from the back called out. “I can do the part. It’s fine. I don’t have to be the star. I know you’re disappointed, but it’s fine. Really.”
“Hush, Melody,” her mother hissed.
Estelle strolled to the rear of the auditorium leaving Mrs. Smith and Blake at the front and found Melody sitting in the back row. She sat beside her. She kept her voice low. “Is it you or your mom who’s having a problem?”
“My mom.” Melody ducked her head. “It’s so embarrassing.”
Estelle patted her shoulder. “What can I do to help?”
Melody tilted her face and brushed her long hair out of her eyes. “Convince my mom that playing Anna is a great part.”
“Actually, it is. Any idea why she’s like this?”
Melody nodded. “She’s trying to live out her own dreams through me. She wanted to be famous, but it never worked out for her.”
Estelle finally understood what was going on. “Do you like acting, sweetie?”
The young teen shrugged. “It’s all right, I guess. But I know I’m not that great.”
At least one of the Smiths was in touch with reality. “Don’t worry about that. I can help you with your acting, and Kayla, I mean Mrs. Wood, can help with your vocals. The best part of your role is that you can have fun with the vocals and your dancing can be silly. It’s all in how you play the character. You can be creative with Anna—in fact, you could even upstage Cindy if you work hard enough.”
“Really?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Thanks.” She stood and scooted past Estelle then walked to where her mother and Blake were still arguing. “I want to play Anna. It will be fun. Please don’t make me quit, Mom.”
Estelle eased her way forward, curious to see how Mrs. Smith would react to her daughter’s declaration.
“But you’ll be the ugly step-sister.”
“I don’t have to be ugly. I can play up her personality in other ways.” She looked to Estelle. “Right?”
“
Sure. In fact, I like that idea. What do you think, Blake?”
“It could work. I look forward to seeing your interpretation of Anna.”
Melody beamed. “Thanks!” She race-walked to the door.
“I guess that means she’s in,” Estelle said. “Can we count on your support this year, Mrs. Smith?”
The woman nodded and left without another word.
When the door whooshed shut, Estelle let out the breath she’d been holding to keep herself from laughing. “Did you see the color of her face?”
Blake smiled and raised his hand. “High-five. You did it. I don’t know how, but you did.”
She high-fived him, though she didn’t share his elation. She felt for Melody and hoped the girl’s mom didn’t come down on her. “I wouldn’t count on those funds yet. In fact, it might be wise to operate under a tighter budget.”
He tipped his head to the side. “You might be right. She’s kind of fickle, and I heard this morning from one of the other moms that she’s in the middle of a nasty divorce. She might not even have the funds to donate.”
It was as if Melody were living out Estelle’s childhood, minus the overly dramatic stage mom. “I’m sorry to hear that. Poor Melody is probably stuck in the middle. I’m glad she decided to stay in the musical. It’ll be a nice distraction for her.”
“I agree. We make a good team, you and me. Now let’s get lunch. I’m buying. You up for pizza?”
Her stomach lurched at his words. “Sounds good to me.”
~
Friday afternoon, Blake stood in Helen’s barn and looked at the prop for the mall food court scene Derek worked on. “We need to make sure the color is strong enough to be seen from the back of the auditorium.”
“This isn’t my first time painting. What are you so stressed about?” Derek dipped his brush in the paint tray.
“I want everything to be perfect, and I’m worried it won’t be, thanks to our budget.” Mrs. Smith had yet to drop off a check.
“Stop stressing. We’ve got this. There are enough volunteers to get this set ready with plenty of time to spare.”
Derek was probably right. Several dads of cast members had offered to help with set design. “Your wife is doing a good job with her part.”
Derek grinned. “I knew she would. Kayla doesn’t do anything halfway. I’m still surprised she agreed to be in it, though. She’s so devoted to our girls, it never occurred to me she’d say yes.”
“Trinity was the same way until Kendal turned three, then she was ready to get back out there.”
“Must have been the terrible threes.”
“I thought it was the terrible twos,” Blake said.
“Trust me, three is worse. At least it was with Betsy.”
In no position to debate the issue, Blake grabbed a paintbrush and dipped it in blue. It was funny how things changed. When they were younger, he was the one who wanted a family, and Derek had stars in his eyes with no thought of having a wife and kids.
“Reinforcements are here.” Helen strolled into the barn with Pastor Miller and Merry, as well as the dance choreographer, Amber Jackson.
Speechless, Blake held his paintbrush midair. Pastor and Merry had never shown any interest in the children’s theater. Why now?
“Welcome to the set brigade,” Derek said. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Sure thing. I’ll bring out refreshments soon.”
Blake finally found his voice. “How’d you know we needed help?”
Amber ambled closer. “Estelle mentioned it at rehearsal.” She looked around. “She said she’d be here.”
“One of the girls needed help with her lines, so she stayed late to help,” Blake said.
Amber nodded. “When I told my aunt and uncle you needed help, they volunteered to offer a hand.”
“Pastor Miller is your uncle?”
The trio laughed.
“He has a name,” Amber said.
“He does? I mean, of course he does.” Blake’s face heated.
“I’m standing right here, folks. You’re welcome to call me Joe. I’m sorry I didn’t mention that years ago. I assumed you knew.”
“It’s fine and thanks, but I don’t think I can call you Joe. To me you’re Pastor.”
Pastor chuckled. “I’ve heard that before. Whatever name you’re comfortable with is fine, but if anything changes, you’re free to use my given name.” He looked around the barn. “This is a nice setup you have here.” He focused on Derek. “When you mentioned you were painting the set, I had no idea what to expect.”
Now it made sense why they were here—Pastor Miller was Derek’s boss since he was the music minister. He must be making an effort to reach out to his employees outside of work. Probably for the same mysterious reason they were inviting families over to their place for Sunday lunch.
Derek put everyone to work painting the murals that would be the backdrops for various scenes. Each would be applied to a wall on wheels they used every year that was easy to move on and off the stage.
Amber laughed at something one of the Millers had said. Blake studied the choreographer. Her shoulder-length brown hair was swept up in a messy ponytail, her face was devoid of makeup, and her clothing choice of leggings with an off-the-shoulder top screamed dancer. He guessed she was probably twenty-five or twenty-six. It was still hard to believe she was the Millers’ niece. He’d never noticed her at church. Of course, theirs wasn’t the only one in town.
A shadow from the barn entrance dropped onto the canvas he was painting. He turned and shielded his eyes from the sunlight streaming in. Estelle stood there with her hair piled atop her head, holding a tray of sandwiches and wearing cutoffs and a T-shirt. She looked adorable but, more importantly, like she was ready to work. Good, they still had plenty to paint.
“Hi, Estelle. Grab a brush and jump in anywhere. Everything is numbered so you’ll know what color to paint where.” He’d done this enough years now that he’d finally figured out an efficient system.
“Great, thanks. Helen got sidetracked, but she’ll bring out the rest of the snacks soon.” She placed the tray on the table he’d set up the other night.
“This is almost like a church social,” Merry said.
Amber’s laughter bubbled up. “You think anything with food and people is like a church social.”
“When she’s right, she’s right.” Merry shrugged and resumed painting the backdrop for the diner scene. Although he’d used the classic Cinderella story, he’d modernized it to present day.
Helen entered the barn, struggling to carry a huge tray.
Blake rushed over to relieve her of it. “Let me help.” He took the tray piled with fresh fruit and cheese and crackers to a nearby table.
“I’ll be right back with lemonade and water.” She left without waiting for a reply.
He’d better make sure she could handle both so she didn’t have to make a third trip. “I’ll help.” He quickly caught up and strode beside her. “Thanks for doing this, Helen. I know everyone appreciates your thoughtfulness.”
“It’s nothing. I feel like I’m contributing in my own way. Besides, I enjoy helping my boys out.”
Blake draped an arm across her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.
Helen patted his hand. “I was surprised to see Amber here. She’s never helped out at one of these before, has she?”
“Nope. But this is the first year she’s been involved in the theater. In the past we’ve kept it simple, and I did the choreography. She approached me about helping out because she opened a dance studio in town and is hoping to gain some students.” He opened the door to the house and motioned Helen in ahead of him.
“How’s Amber doing with the choreography?” Helen went to the kitchen.
“The steps are more involved than previous years.” He chuckled. “Estelle and Kayla were dead on their feet the first day. I felt bad for them.”
“Oh dear.” She motioned toward another tray with two pitchers and s
tacked reusable cups. “I’m glad they didn’t give up.”
“Me too. The last thing I need is people quitting because the dances are too complicated.” He turned and retraced their steps.
“How about the kids. Are they learning the routines okay?”
“Actually, they are. They’re doing a lot better than I could have hoped, considering how early it is in the summer.”
“That’s great. I’m proud of what you and Derek created.” She pulled open the front door. “If you need anything else, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks.” He returned to the barn. Laughter rang out the open door. He stepped inside and set the drinks beside the snacks. “If anyone needs a break, the food is ready.”
They set down their brushes and quickly cleaned up at the utility sink in the corner. Estelle plopped onto a bale of hay, drawing her knees to her chest.
“You don’t want anything to eat?” Blake asked.
She held up a cup. “This is fine.”
No wonder she was still model-thin. She didn’t eat whenever food was around—he could learn from her example. He patted his middle. Then again, he was doing all right. He filled a cup with water, piled a plate up with food, then headed her direction. He eased onto a metal folding chair facing the hay bales. “How’d it go with Jenny?”
“Not bad.”
He’d gotten to know Estelle well enough now to suspect she wasn’t telling him everything. Had they made a mistake with the girl? Would she be able to do the role justice? Maybe he should have fought harder to have Paris play Cindy. He’d have to catch Estelle later when no one else was listening to find out what she was leaving out.
Amber sat in a chair beside him. “I can’t thank you enough for giving me the opportunity to choreograph the musical. It’s been a great experience so far.”
His thoughts shifted gears to take in what Amber had said. “I’m glad. The kids seem to be enjoying themselves. Have you picked up any new students?”
An Encore for Estelle (Melodies of Love Book 2) Page 6
