Chapter 30 Tilley - The Wide-Eyed Wonder Girl
TILLEY The Wide-Eyed Wonder Girl
I won’t allow it,” Elizabeth was saying.
Tilley, Elizabeth, and Daisy were sitting on the back porch of Dogwood while George and Greer ran up the steps and down the slide, over and over.
Tilley wondered when they might tire of the repetitive motion, but, so far, it seemed they might continue down this path forever.
“This is your fault,” Elizabeth said to Daisy, rather rudely, Tilley thought.
She was here, mostly. But partly, she was Dolly Levi.
She considered this to be okay since now, she wasn’t escaping from her life.
She was getting into character, which was not only her right, but also her responsibility.
She would have mere weeks of practice to become the woman she had admired watching on the screen as a girl, the woman the Barbra Streisand carried off so very well.
She wanted to be as good as Barbra. And so, she wasn’t hiding, wasn’t avoiding.
She was transforming. As any good actor would.
“I would never have let her try out for this play,” Elizabeth said, as if Tilley wasn’t even sitting there. “You have set her up for failure and heartbreak, and I am very upset about it.”
“Yes, we can tell, Elizabeth,” Tilley said drolly. “You sound like a postal worker on meth.”
“A postal worker?” Elizabeth asked, looking at Daisy as if to say, I told you so. She’s nuts.
“Yes. A postal worker. Because this speech is a little like junk mail. A waste of resources and no one wants it.”
Daisy tried to cover her laugh with her hand, but she could not quite manage it, further annoying Elizabeth.
Tilley leaned over to her sister. “Elizabeth, do you remember us on the stage as children? Do you remember how that felt, to just completely become someone else, to bask in the glory of the applause and the flowers and the praise?”
Elizabeth crossed her arms. “No. I do not. Because, if you’ll recall, you were the star with the voice and the rhythm and golden shining light. I painted sets.”
Tilley waved her hand as if that was a small matter.
“Fine then. You don’t remember. But, in the years since, you have experienced marriage and motherhood and grandparenting and a million tiny moments that I never have.
The stage was always my happiest place. And I have the opportunity to reclaim that, to get to feel like you feel, to live a portion of a life that got away. ”
Tilley could see the fine mist in Elizabeth’s eyes.
This was the thing about her sister. She was a very passionate person, a fact that Tilley had always, always been able to use to her advantage.
Elizabeth said quietly, “I know the stage has always been your happy place. But Tilley. I am worried about you. The long hours, the memorization. What if… Well, don’t make me say it. ”
“What if I can’t do it?” Tilley asked as Daisy looked on, unsure as to whether she should interject.
“Well, yes,” Elizabeth said.
Daisy finally did jump in. “Elizabeth, I think the bigger question here is: What if she can?”
Elizabeth sighed. “Oh, good. The wide-eyed wonder girl is here to step in on yet another one of my personal family matters.”
Daisy looked taken aback, and Elizabeth put her hand up. “I’m sorry. That was very rude. I know you’re trying to help. But we have been through decades of situations that you can’t even imagine.”
Tilley nodded and picked up her glass, taking a sip of her afternoon tea with just a splash of bourbon. “I know I’ve been a handful, Elizabeth. But I think I can do this. I know I can. And I feel like I need to. It may be my last chance.”
Elizabeth looked stricken. “Well, don’t say that.”
Tilley looked out over the lawn to the water beyond, the marsh grass that had been blowing in this same breeze on this same property since Tilley was born—and long before.
Things at Dogwood had always seemed permanent to her, eternal, unstoppable.
For years and years, more than she would like to imagine, she had let herself sink into the rhythm and time of this place.
Now that she was finally ready to live again, she felt that instead of trying to run out the clock, she wanted to beat it.
Sure, starring in a local theater production might not seem like an audacious dream to many.
But, to Tilley, it was practically a mountain moved.
If she could do this, she could prove to herself and everyone else that she could really, truly live again. And that would be momentous.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and said, “Well, it’s not like I can say no. You two evidently run things around here.”
“Elizabeth!” Tilley scolded. “Amelia didn’t want you to babysit. Get over it! It’s not Daisy’s fault. She saved the day!”
“With Amelia and now, evidently, with you.” Elizabeth sighed. “Fine. Great. Be in the play. Set the world on fire, watch it burn down, and let me, as usual, pick up the pieces.”
Tilley wanted to argue, but she couldn’t.
Because Elizabeth did pick up the pieces.
She always had. When Tilley embarrassed herself in front of the entire town, when Tilley came back to herself long enough to volunteer to do something that she could never follow through on.
When Tilley’s great love died, and Elizabeth spent the rest of her life looking after her sister.
And then the other time, the big time, the time they never spoke of.
Tilley looked at her sister, locked her eyes on hers. “Lizzie, you are right. You always have to clean up the mess. But not this time. I promise you. I can do this.”
Tilley knew she had made this same proclamation before.
Daisy said, “And, just think, if she flakes out, you can spend two hours a night singing and dancing onstage as Dolly Levi! Show all those set painters what’s what.”
Tilley and Elizabeth both laughed. “Yes, I am such a truly lovely singer,” Elizabeth said sarcastically. Then she looked toward Daisy. “I’m trying hard not to like you, but you make it very difficult.”
Daisy nodded knowingly. “I’m kind of like jasmine. Sort of a creeping, insidious vine that blooms at just the right moment. It smells so good, you forgive it for choking out your roses.”
Elizabeth laughed again. “You do seem to make Mason happy.”
Daisy put her hand to her heart. “Do you think?”
“I do,” Tilley said. “And it’s high time that boy settled down.”
Daisy shrugged. “He seems so sweet, but then I hear these stories…”
Tilley patted Daisy’s leg and, not quite knowing if it was herself speaking or Dolly, said one of her brand-new theater lines: “Darling, just leave everything to me.”