Learning Her Lines

by Amelia C. Adams

  “And you?” Alice asked gently. “What are your feelings for him?”

  “I . . . I hardly know,” Catherine replied. “This week is the first time we’ve ever spoken about more than just his meal preferences. He’s a handsome man, to be sure, and interesting, and I wouldn’t mind getting to know him better, but my mind is such a muddle, I can’t say for sure.”

  Alice patted her shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I think you’d be a very good match.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. You’re entering his world for the first time, and you’re filled with wide-eyed wonder. He’ll love showing you around and seeing things fresh from your perspective. I’m sure I don’t need to caution you about his strange artistic moods . . .”

  “You mean the ones where he pounds the table and mutters to himself while he’s reading over a script?”

  “That would be the ones I mean.” Alice laughed. “Yes, I think you’ll do very well with us, Catherine Ross. If you’re feeling better, should we go out and meet the rest of the cast? I heard Gerard’s voice out there a moment ago, and I know he’s eager to meet you.”

  “The man playing Romeo?” There went Catherine’s stomach again.

  “Yes. Are you ready?”

  Catherine stood up on knees that wobbled like one of Titus’s custards. “I’m ready.”

  Chapter Six

  Melvin strode down the aisle of the theater, Mrs. Van Dyke keeping up quite well, until he reached the stage, where the rest of the cast and the crew had assembled. Many were seated on folding chairs, while others leaned on pieces of scenery. They all looked at him quizzically, their eyes darting back and forth between Melvin and Mrs. Van Dyke.

  Well, let them dart. He wasn’t going to start this meeting officially until Catherine had joined them as well.

  Ah, there she was. He turned at the sound of women’s voices and saw Alice leading Catherine onto the stage from the wings.

  “The costume is a perfect fit,” Alice said, grinning as she walked up to him. “It’s as though I made it for her and not Miss White.”

  “Thank goodness. Now we can concentrate on other things—so many other things.” Melvin rubbed his jaw. “All right, time is running out and we need to get focused. Everyone, may I please introduce Miss Catherine Ross. She’s a waitress over at the Iron Skillet, and she’s also our new Juliet. She accepted the role just moments ago, so let’s not overwhelm her with our enthusiasm—let’s get her settled in first, shall we?”

  The cast and crew smiled and nodded, murmuring their welcome. Catherine responded with a little wave and a shy smile. It was quite endearing, actually.

  Melvin cleared his throat. “We’re also joined by a new acting coach, a lady who will work specifically with Miss Ross but also with any of you who might be interested. Mrs. Van Dyke?”

  She stepped forward, her dress swishing on the floor of the stage, her right hand fisted on her bosom. “Oh, good people of the stage, I can’t tell you what a thrill and an honor it is to be among you.” She flung out her arm to indicate them all. “I can see on each of your faces how much you love the stage, how it has seeped into your very beings, and I can’t wait to help you explore the depths of those emotions and bring them to life before your enthralled audience.”

  Goodness. That had certainly been unexpected. “Er, yes,” he said, holding up a hand. “Thank you, Mrs. Van Dyke. We appreciate your contribution to our cause. Let’s take a few moments to chat and get acquainted, and then Mrs. Van Dyke and Miss Ross have some schedules to compare. We are to consider ourselves back in business, everyone, so continue to memorize your lines, and we’ll pretend as though this has all been a minor setback and not a major catastrophe.”

  “And it has only been minor,” Mrs. Van Dyke said. “Much worse things could have happened.”

  “True.” He took her by the elbow and guided her from the middle of the stage. “Let’s chat with some of the others, shall we? That would be nice.”

  He got her talking with the conductor of the orchestra, then wandered to stage left to find Catherine speaking with Gerard. Good—those were the two who most needed to meet.

  “How do you find her, Gerard?” Melvin asked. “Will she suit?”

  “Yes, I believe she will.” Gerard gave her an approving smile. “She has the look and the temperament, and I think we’ll enjoy working together.”

  Catherine smiled. “Gerard was just telling me about his fondness for a good steak. He and Titus should meet, don’t you think?”

  “Absolutely. Miss Ross’s cousin makes the best steak I’ve ever had—I’m surprised you haven’t wandered into the Iron Skillet yet, Gerard.”

  The man shrugged. “I tend to eat at home. I’m rather fond of making soup.”

  Soup? As though that was a man’s meal. “No wonder you crave a good steak from time to time,” Melvin replied, keeping his more immediate reaction to himself.

  Once Catherine and Gerard had chatted for another moment, Melvin took Catherine to find Mrs. Van Dyke, who had cornered the actor playing the friar and was discussing with him the proper way to mix up a poison on stage. He looked relieved at the interruption and fled as soon as Melvin introduced Mrs. Van Dyke to Catherine directly.

  “Oh, but we’ve already met,” Mrs. Van Dyke said, taking Catherine’s hands in hers. “How are you, my dear?”

  “I’m quite well, but surprised to see you here,” Catherine replied. “I didn’t know you worked for the theater.”

  “Well, it was still up in the air when we spoke earlier. Mr. Westcott and I only finalized the arrangement this afternoon.”

  “Exactly, and I leave it to the two of you to work out a rehearsal schedule,” Melvin replied. “We need to get our Juliet caught up to the others, and we’ll also resume our rehearsals with the entire cast. This is quite exciting, isn’t it, seeing everything coming together at last?” He rubbed his hands together, unable to contain the small thrill he felt. It was as though the last piece to the puzzle had just clicked into place, and now it was simply a matter of bringing everything to the stage.

  If Mrs. Van Dyke didn’t ruin everything, that is. He was definitely keeping an eye on her.

  ***

  Catherine’s brain was spinning with everything she’d learned and the names of all the people she’d met, but she felt good, fulfilled—perhaps this wouldn’t be as terrifying as she’d first thought. She tied the strings of her bonnet and stepped outside, ready to head back to the restaurant and discuss her schedule with her uncle. She wondered what he’d think about this new endeavor—he hadn’t been opposed to her auditioning, but now that the part was hers, he might be more reluctant to give her the time off. She’d just have to see.

  “Miss Ross! Catherine?”

  She turned to see Melvin chasing after her down the street. “Yes?” she asked when he caught up.

  “I meant to escort you. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before—I was discussing the script with Gerard.”

  “That’s all right. I know you’re busy.”

  “Yes, but dusk is falling, and I couldn’t in good conscience send you out walking alone. Shall we?” He held out his arm, indicating the street in front of them, and they fell into step. “How did you like the theater?”

  “Oh, it was thrilling,” she replied. “I’ve attended as part of the audience, but to see backstage and how some of the things work—I think I’m going to enjoy it very much.”

  “But . . .?” He gave her a smile. “What’s bothering you? It sounds as though you’re about to contradict yourself.”

  “I felt ill in the dressing room. I almost thought I might vomit,” she admitted.

  To her shame, he started to laugh.

  “It’s not funny,” she said, her cheeks flaming. “Can you just imagine how humiliated I would have been?”

  “I’m sorry, Catherine. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I was just thinking back to a conversation I had with Alice not long ago—she begged me to stop hiring
actresses with a tendency toward nausea. The poor girl has dealt with her fair share of nervous actresses in her day.”

  “She did say it was common, but she didn’t say just how common it was.” Catherine smiled, feeling bad for Alice, but also seeing the humor in it. “She must love her work to keep doing it even with that as a chief peril.”

  “I couldn’t survive without her,” Melvin replied. “If she decides to marry, I’ll only give her my blessing if she stays at the theater until she’s ninety-seven. Sadly, she doesn’t need my blessing in order to marry—she can do whatever she jolly well pleases.”

  “You should have made that part of the agreement when you hired her,” Catherine suggested.

  “You’re right, and that’s what I’ll do from now on. It might make it difficult to find willing employees, but it would be worth it in the long run.” He touched her elbow and steered her around a mud puddle in her path. “Were you and Mrs. Van Dyke able to settle on a rehearsal schedule?”

  “Yes, we were. If my uncle approves, she’ll come down to the restaurant and coach me there. I have to tell you, I was so surprised to see that she would be working with me. I didn’t realize when I served her tea this afternoon that we’d be getting to know each other even better.”

  “Hiring her was a bit spontaneous on my part,” Melvin said. “It was one of those situations where you have a need, and then you look up and find the solution right in front of you.”

  “As if God sent it,” Catherine added.

  He looked a little startled. “I beg your pardon?”

  “I’m sorry—I didn’t even think to wonder if you were a religious man. I should ask before I speak, I suppose.”

  “No, that’s all right.” He spoke slowly, and his steps slowed as well. “Tell me more about God sending things when you need them.”

  “Well, I’m not a pastor or an avid student of the Bible, so please don’t think I’m speaking with any sort of authority, but I believe that God brings us what we need when we need it. We might not realize we need it—we might think we need something else entirely—but He knows better than we do, and He provides.”

  “And He does that for everyone?”

  She hadn’t expected to catch Melvin’s attention so thoroughly with her simple comment, and now she scrambled for words, hoping that whatever she said next might satisfy his curiosity and perhaps solve a riddle he’d been working on. “Yes, I believe He does.”

  “Even if the thing we need is simple? He doesn’t limit Himself to moving mountains and whatnot?”

  “If He did, I imagine He’d be worn out all the time,” she replied with a smile. “Yes, I believe He pays attention to everything, big and small. I love the part in the Bible where it says that His eye is on the sparrow. I’ve felt like that sparrow more often than not—small, insignificant, vulnerable. And yet He knows where I am and He knows what I need.”

  Melvin didn’t say anything for a moment, and she wondered if she’d overstepped her boundaries. “That’s what I believe, anyway,” she said with a small laugh. “I’m sure there are many other ways to interpret that scripture . . .”

  “No, I think your way is perfect.” He looked up and smiled. “I’m sorry. I realize I’ve gone melancholy all of a sudden, and that doesn’t make me a good companion. I was thinking—but about important things, and I thank you for inspiring those thoughts in me.”

  “You’re welcome.” She didn’t think she’d ever inspired someone before—what a nice thing for him to say. “I’m glad I could help.”

  He nodded. “You did. Now I just need to apply it and figure out what to do with it.”

  She was deeply curious to know what he was talking about specifically, but when he didn’t elaborate, she didn’t pry. Maybe he’d tell her at some point, but if he didn’t, that was all right. It wasn’t any of her business anyway.

  “Catherine . . .”

  He’d stopped walking, so she stopped as well and turned to face him. “Yes?”

  He reached out and touched her elbow. There was no mud puddle this time, so his meaning had to be different, and she found her heart starting to pound. “I hope you know how much I appreciate you for taking this role. It’s a silly thing, I know, and years from now, you likely won’t even remember that you did it, but it means a great deal to me. Thank you.”

  “You’re wrong, Melvin,” she told him after pulling in a full breath. It seemed that being so near him made it impossible for her to think or speak or do anything properly. “I’ll remember this forever, as long as I live and maybe even afterwards.”

  He looked into her eyes, and for one wonderful moment, she thought he might kiss her. It would be completely inappropriate—they weren’t engaged, and they were standing on a public street, and they hardly knew each other, but still, imagining it was certainly fun.

  “Thank you for that as well,” he said at last.

  She wasn’t sure what he was talking about—was he thanking her for imagining that they’d kissed? How did he know about that? Was she so transparent that he could read her every thought? But then she realized that he was thanking her for saying she’d always remember the experience. That made quite a lot more sense, and she smiled. “You’re welcome,” she said again.

  They stood there, staring at each other with awkward smiles on their faces, and she wondered why they hadn’t started walking again. Then she realized, to her great embarrassment, that they had reached the Iron Skillet and there was no need for them to walk any farther.

  “Thank you for seeing me back,” she told him. “That was kind of you.”

  “It was nothing—I enjoyed it. You’ll be at the theater tomorrow for rehearsal?”

  “Yes, I will be. Will you be coming in for breakfast? Or lunch?”

  “Maybe both.” He grinned. “Have a good night, Catherine.”

  “Goodnight, Melvin.” She entered the restaurant and closed the door, then rested against it, closing her eyes. She had no idea what was happening to her, but she strongly suspected that it was just as Alice had said—Melvin was changing her entire life.

  “There you are,” Phoebe greeted her, walking past with a tray of dirty dishes. “How did it go?”

  “Really well, I think,” Catherine replied. “You look nearly done for the night. How can I help?”

  “You could sweep the far corner.”

  Catherine pushed aside all her thoughts about Melvin and kissing and turned her attention to cleaning the dining room. She hoped her absence hadn’t caused too much of a disruption. Phoebe was a good waitress, but Catherine had more experience, and if they’d been busy, they might have found themselves getting backed up. “Did tonight go well?” she asked as she put the broom away.

  “Yes, it did.” Ivy finished drying the last plate and set it on the shelf. “We had a steady flow of customers, and they all left happy.”

  “Oh, I’m glad to hear that. I felt terrible, leaving without more advance notice.”

  Ivy smiled. “Don’t feel terrible. You work hard, and it’s time you did something for yourself. We need to know everything—how was your night?”

  Catherine decided not to share quite everything—she didn’t want to scandalize her cousins by telling them that yes, she would have kissed Melvin right there on the street in front of the restaurant. The fact that she had misinterpreted the situation . . . well, she wouldn’t worry about that. It would ruin the moment in her imagination. “The people at the theater were so kind, and the costume is beautiful, and if I don’t embarrass myself by getting sick before I go on stage, it’s going to be the most wonderful thing I’ve ever done.”

  “I can’t wait to come see you,” Phoebe said. “Since you’re the star, can you arrange front-row seats for your family?”

  “I have no idea,” Catherine replied. “We didn’t discuss things like that at all. I need to talk to Uncle Samson before I get too carried away with this idea. Is he still here?”

  “He’s gone back to the house,” Phoebe sai
d. “I’m sure he’ll still be up when we get there, though.”

  Catherine nodded. Her uncle did tend to sit up late in the parlor reading the newspaper before bed. It would be a good time to speak with him.

  They finished shutting down the kitchen, then locked up the building. Titus put the key in his pocket. By now, it was full dark, and she was grateful that she wasn’t walking alone.

  They stopped by Ivy’s house and saw her inside safely, then continued on their way. Once they reached the house Catherine shared with her uncle and cousins, she saw that yes, Samson was still awake, and she joined him in the parlor.

  He put his newspaper to the side when she entered. “I trust it went well? Otherwise, you would have come back much sooner.”

  “It did go well. I was offered the part, and I need to make sure that’s all right with you. I know that it was one thing for me to audition, but if I accept the role, that’s two weeks of rehearsals and then four performances.”

  He nodded. “If this is something you want to do, yes, I’ll continue to support it. You girls and Titus . . .” He paused, clearing his throat, and Catherine was surprised to see this emotion. Samson wasn’t usually the sort to display how he was feeling. “If it hadn’t been for you young people, I don’t know what I would have done in these years since your aunt died, and I owe you the chance to follow your own dreams now.”

  “Thank you, Uncle Samson,” she told him, putting an arm around his shoulders and giving him a quick hug. “I appreciate that. And you know we’ll continue to help you however we can.”

  “I do know it, and that means a lot.” He paused. “The supply train isn’t going to make it through for another few days. Tomorrow morning, several men with wagons are going to ride out there and bring the freight in themselves. I’m going along to help, and Otto over at the livery is donating the use of several of his rigs as well. We aren’t in a bad way yet—the general store and the dry goods store still have inventory on their shelves, but we do need those goods, and tomorrow’s the best time. If we wait until we’re frantic, there are bound to be scuffles.”