CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
T he Ogunquit Playhouse , which opened in 1933, was right on Main Street. Crystal knew it was one of the last remaining summer theaters from the Summer Stock that still produced musical theatre.
The white clapboard building with green metal letters spread across the front displayed the name, while mounted above them, green and white pennants danced in the breeze. Green awnings marked the ticket window and covered the entrances on either side. She parked in the allocated space and went to join a group behind the stage, ready to go through a rehearsal.
A woman in the group smiled and waved at her. Nathan Fielding, a friend of Jerry’s and the theater manager, rushed over to give her a hug. “Welcome, Crystal. I was glad to hear you’re joining us for this production. It’s always nice to see you.”
“Thanks. For me, it’s a thrill to be able to be part of any show, no matter how small the part.”
“What did you do to your hair?” he asked her, standing back and appraising her. “You look fab. A lot like Grace Kelly.”
“That’s what Jerry said,” she replied, flustered. She’d never thought of herself as beautiful.
The director came into the room. “Everyone in their places. We need to go through the two ensemble numbers.” His assistant did a roll call and after he announced her name, Crystal felt her excitement grow. It took a huge effort to use her time for the few days of the show, but she never tired of her brief stints on stage. Being able to portray someone else had brought her through troubled times.
On stage, she sang and did some light dancing with other members of the ensemble, content to be in the back while others with speaking roles were in the limelight. She’d memorized the words of the songs, knew the various parts of the play by heart, and could be comfortable as they went through both big numbers.
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L ater, Crystal relaxed on Jerry and Lance’s outdoor patio. Then she decided to walk into town to a favorite restaurant with another ensemble member for a light supper before show time.
The Lobster Trap was located on Main Street a nice walk away. Crystal’s mouth watered in anticipation of the lobster rolls they served—lots of lobster pieces with minimal mayonnaise.
Ginger Allen, a woman she’d met last year, was full of good cheer as they moved along chatting about little things. Short, she was pretty with long, dyed strawberry-blond hair worn in a ponytail, and had green eyes that sparkled with humor. Her energy was unstoppable. Younger than Crystal by four years, Ginger was someone she’d always liked.
“So, how has New York living been?” Crystal asked her.
Ginger shrugged. “It’s never easy. Exciting yes. But jobs are hard to find, and I’m getting tired of working a full-time gig and then as a waitress on weekends to make living there possible.”
“Why don’t you think of coming to Lilac Lake? Whitney Gilford is living there and is setting up a theater program for camps during the summer and for school children during the winter.”
“Really? That sounds interesting. I’ll think about it. Now, let’s eat. I need to go back and go over my lines once more.”
They walked inside the gray weathered clapboard building to a busy scene. Tables were filling up fast at this early dinner hour. Crystal grabbed a table tucked into a back corner by the kitchen.
“What’ll you have?” asked Ginger.
“A single lobster roll, and a lemonade,” said Crystal, pulling bills out of her wallet. She handed them to Ginger. “And ask for a lemon slice, please. I’ll grab extra napkins and silverware for us.”
Moments later, Crystal bit into her lobster roll and let out a moan of pleasure. Tender lobster meat fresh from the Atlantic Ocean was a favorite seafood treat. It always tasted better in Maine than anywhere else.
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T hat evening, on stage with the other members of the ensemble, Crystal sang and moved with them, lost in her world of fantasy and fun. Her practicing had paid off and she acted her small part with confidence.
A little after the play ended, Crystal decided to get a breath of fresh air.
As she stepped outside, she saw a crowd gathering and people rushing about.
“What’s wrong?” she asked another performer.
“Some woman passed out. I think she was drunk,” the man said.
Curious, Crystal stepped closer as a volunteer ordered onlookers to move back to give a doctor some room. Crystal got a glimpse of her and gasped. She stepped forward. “I know this woman. Can I help?”
The doctor looked up at her from where he was kneeling beside his doctor’s bag. “I know who she is too. She doesn’t appear to be hurt seriously, but I need to be sure.”
“We have to get her out of here, to privacy. Let’s take her to the office,” said Crystal. She broke a path through the crowd. The doctor followed, helping Natalie Chamberlain inside.
“Are you traveling with her?” the doctor asked Crystal.
“No, I’m not. But I know her son, and I think he should be informed. I’m happy to make the call, but he’ll want to speak to you. He’s a doctor.”
Natalie, more aware now, sat on a chair in the office while the doctor examined her.
“I’m sorry,” Natalie said. “I skipped dinner ... and the heat of the crowd ...” She said nothing about the alcohol she’d consumed. The smell was very distinct. She noticed Crystal standing by and recoiled. “What are you doing here?”
“She helped me get you inside away from curious eyes, Mrs. Chamberlain. You owe her a debt of thanks,” said the doctor. “You seem to be fine, except for tripping. You have no pain from the fall?”
Natalie shook her head. “I’m fine. Just very tired.”
“I’m calling Emmett. He’ll want to know,” said Crystal.
Natalie gave her a thoughtful look. “Thanks. Better that he finds out from us. You think you kept this from the papers?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I hope so.” Crystal left the office to make the call. She punched in Emmett’s number and waited and waited. She tried again and this time, Emmett picked up the call right away.
“Crystal?”
“Yes, Emmett. I’m calling about your mother. She’s had a fall at the Ogunquit Playhouse. She’s alright or will be when she’s sober.”
“What are you doing there? What is she doing there? Has she been examined by a doctor?”
“I’m doing a stint at the theater. She came to see the play and yes, she’s been examined by a doctor. I’m going to hand the phone over to him so you can talk.”
“Thanks,” said Emmett as Crystal went back to the doctor and handed him her phone.
While the doctor went outside the office to take the call, Crystal was left in the office with Natalie.
Crystal sat in a chair and sighed. “I know you don’t think much of me, but if I can help in any way, please let me know. I know enough about your condition to know how disoriented you must feel right now. Are you staying in town?”
“With a friend not far from here,” said Natalie. “She wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to stay, so she dropped me off. She’s supposed to pick me up.”
“What’s her name? I’ll go look for her,” said Crystal.
“Eloise Harding. An old friend,” said Natalie, with a quiver in her voice.
The doctor came back into the room and handed the phone to her. “He wants to speak to you.”
Crystal took the phone. “Yes?”
“Thank you for all you’re doing for my mother,” said Emmett. “That’s really kind of you considering her treatment of you. I’m going to come to Maine to talk to her. Do you know where she’s staying?”
“She’s visiting her old friend, Eloise Harding,” said Crystal. “I’m going to find Eloise outside now. She was planning to give your mother a ride back to her place.”
“Thanks. I’ll take it from here,” said Emmett. He paused. “I’ve missed you.”
Crystal clicked off the call before getting into further conversation with him. She’d called him. He hadn’t called her.
When she went outside, the line of traffic picking up people had dwindled to nothing but a car or two. She searched for a female driver and found a blond-haired woman driving a BMW convertible.
She walked over to the car, tapped on the window, and said, “Are you Eloise Harding?”
The woman looked startled. “Yes, I am. Why?”
“Natalie Chamberlain is inside. She’s taken a tumble but isn’t hurt. The doctor has checked her over, and there’s nothing to worry about except a bruise on her hand where she landed. I’ll help her to your car. I’m afraid she’s had quite a lot to drink.”
“Ah, Natalie. With the stress of a possible campaign ahead, I’m not surprised. I’ll wait for you here and take her back to my house.”
“Just so you know, I’ve called her son. Emmett will probably be phoning you.”
“Thank you. What did you say your name was?”
“Crystal Owen,” she said and moved away.
Natalie met her inside and Crystal walked her to Eloise’s car. After seeing her safely inside the automobile, Crystal waved to them both and went to find her car. It was too late and she was too troubled to even think of making a trip home. Thank God for Jerry and Lance’s open invitation.