Chapter 3
The Madrigal was a glorious old place. The kind of theater that told a story besides the ones being played out on the stage. As he stepped into the auditorium, Myles looked around, taking in the delightfully ostentatious woodwork and all the tiny touches remaining from an era when craftsmanship still meant something. Man, they didn’t make them like this anymore. What a delightful surprise to find somewhere like this in his newly adopted hometown.
A woman on the stage was running through a more than passable rendition of “Count Your Blessings Instead of Sheep.” At least on par with what he expected for community theater. He saw Nate settled a few rows back from the front, in prime position to watch all the action. Having no wish to interrupt, Myles headed about halfway down the aisle himself and slid into one of the plush velvet seats. He slid a notebook out of his messenger bag and began jotting down impressions of the building, observations of the hopeful players scattered around the room.
A door to his left opened, and a woman slipped out, quiet as a shadow.
Hello gorgeous.
She wore one of those dance costume things that looked like a swimsuit with a long flowy skirt. A leotard? The skirt trailed behind her like the tail of a comet as she moved up the side aisle. She was clearly on a mission, looking for someone or something.
From the stage, somebody launched into a painfully off-key rendition of “Blue Skies.” Ignoring that poor guy, Myles twisted in his seat to watch the woman progress toward the back. Had she already auditioned? Before the question even finished forming, she’d come back from the lobby, headed back toward the door to the stage.
Up front, Nate quietly conversed with the “Count Your Blessings” chick. As the ear torture ended, she rose and headed up the aisle. Myles called out softly as she came by, “Hey, nice audition.”
She stopped. “Thanks. Are you auditioning?”
“Hadn’t thought about it. I’m here doing a story for the paper. Have you got a minute to chat with me?”
“Sure.” She dropped into a chair beside him. “I’m Charlotte Ballard.”
“Myles Stewart. So is this your first audition or have you done this for a while?”
“Definitely not my first. I’ve been doing community theater off and on for about four years now. A lot of the folks here tonight have been in it a lot longer than that.”
“Yeah?”
“The Madrigal is important around here. Once the word hit the grapevine that it was in danger, the pressure was on to get the best of the best to auditions. Take this guy.” She nodded to indicate a blond guy that replaced the off-key gentleman.
“I’m Tucker McGee, and I’ll be auditioning for the role of Phil.”
“What’re you singing, Tucker?” Nate asked.
“‘Happy Holidays.’”
The music started, and Tucker launched into the number.
Charlotte dropped her voice. “He’s been doing this since he was a kid. He’s part of the Old Guard talent.”
Tucker was good. His vocal tone and expression were completely on point, and more importantly, he could move. Like, Danny Kaye himself kind of rhythm.
“Color me impressed,” Myles murmured.
“Tucker is guaranteed to be Phil. He’s been the lead for anything requiring dancing for…well, ever it seems like.”
Another woman passed Myles on the inside aisle, moving with slow deliberation toward the stage door, an expression caught somewhere between nostalgia and dread. There was a story there. There was, he suspected, a story for a great many of the people auditioning tonight. Individual connections to the Madrigal.
“Oh!” Charlotte exclaimed softly, laying a hand on Myles’ arm to draw his attention to the woman in the aisle. “Now this is interesting. That’s Tyler Edison. She hasn’t been on stage in eight years, but she used to be amazing. Nobody in town can dance like her.”
“Eight years, huh? I thought you said you’d only been doing this for four.”
“I have. But I’m a local. Around here, Tyler is legend.”
“Has she been gone?”
“Oh no, she runs the hardware store. It’s been in her family for generations.”
“Why the long hiatus?”
“The whole thing was really sad. She was half of the community theater power couple. From the time they were seventeen, if there was a love story, they were the leads. Which was easy for them because they were crazy about each other, so most of it wasn’t acting. Everybody figured they’d get married after college.”
“I gather that dream went poof.”
“Both his parents were killed in a car crash. He just wasn’t right after that. One day he just up and left her, without a word. Never came back to Wishful. Tyler hasn’t been on stage since. Too painful, I guess.”
“Apparently the theater is more important than heartbreak.”
Perspective of the players, he thought, making another note about doing a series of interviews with each of the final cast members to give that human touch for what the theater meant to them.
“Just you wait. She’s going to be amazing,” Charlotte assured him.
Myles didn’t have to wait long before Tyler came out to center stage, Miss Gorgeous on her heels. The pair of them held cardboard fans and sported identical grins.
“Tyler Edison.” Myles could hear the smile in Nate’s voice. “Well, it’s about damn time you came back. Good to see you.”
Tyler lifted her hand in a wave.
“I guess I don’t have to ask which number you two are doing,” he said. “Go on then.”
The music cued up and they launched in to “Sisters.” Myles forgot he was just watching auditions, so clearly did the two women slide into the roles of Betty and Judy Haynes. The gorgeous brunette played a fabulous Betty, and he found himself wishing for a Phil to banter with over her brown eyes.
When the number was over, Betty gave Tyler a high five. “Nailed it.”
Tyler answered with a hip bump. “We’ve still got it.”
If Nate didn’t cast those two as the female leads, he was insane. They were perfect.
Myles thought about what the director had said, that the only way to really experience the theater was from the stage. Dancing wasn’t his strong suit, but he had a pretty decent voice that he tended to use only in the shower or on long road trips. If he jumped in and auditioned for Bob, he might get a chance to read with his Betty. Not that he expected to actually get the part, but it’d be worth the effort just for a chance to meet her.
“So if I decided to actually audition, who do I need to talk to about that?”
Charlotte pointed at Nate. “Just tell the director. He’ll put you on the list.”
Mind made up, Myles slid out of his seat and went to talk to Nate.