Chapter 34
CLARA
The day before Christmas Eve, I was at my parents’ house, scrolling through my email. I sat up straighter on the couch when I saw a message from Ganymede. My heart thumped in my chest.
A few weeks ago, I would have assumed this was a prank, not that anyone I knew would be so cruel. The people closest to me knew how depressed I had been after crashing out in LA and being forced to come back home. They would never kick a girl when she was down.
It was no prank, though, no matter how unreal it was to see her name in my inbox.
My thumb trembled over her email. I forced myself to breathe deeply, hold it, then let the air out slowly. Was she telling me never mind, now that I wasn’t with Luke? Thanks, but no thanks, we’ve reconsidered and we think your work is amateur-hour bullshit.
Waiting wouldn’t change what the message said. I tapped it open. Despite what my anxiety had suspected, Ganymede was not telling me to kick rocks and lose her number. Quite the opposite.
It seemed she wasn’t used to people not contacting her when she asked them to. She accused me of playing hard to get, and she said it was working, that she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She wanted me to work with her on her next big production.
She told me to set up a meeting with her and the producer for the show, capping the email off with a bunch of hearts and praying hands.
I almost smiled, feeling the woman’s wild vibe even through the screen. Working with her would change my entire life. I had a feeling she and I could be friends, although I would never admit that out loud to anyone.
So why was I so torn on how to respond?
Clearly, the opportunity was something I wanted, a literal dream come true.
But going back to New York, living full time in the same city as Luke?
My heart rejected the idea outright. It would be too painful, knowing he was so close.
The idea of running into him on the street with another girl on his arm made me want to throw up.
Maybe the disaster in LA had scarred me deeper than I realized. New York now felt like LA to me, a place I never wanted to see again.
And it wasn’t just the chance of seeing Luke that put me off. The only reason I had met Ganymede was through Luke and his connections. Taking the job felt like I was using him, the same way he had used me for his stupid bet. It felt wrong.
It felt like, if I didn’t want to be with him, I shouldn’t take advantage of the generosity he’d shown me. Was it generosity, though, or a way to trick me into falling for him?
If that was the case, there was no way I could accept that job. I would show up at the theater every day feeling like a fraud, like I hadn’t earned it on my own. I would feel like I owed him and I didn’t want to feel indebted to anyone like that. Especially someone who lied to me.
When he left Texas again, maybe the storm of confused emotions would blow itself out and my reluctance would fade.
Maybe I would be able to free my heart from his grip.
Unfortunately, I was worried the only way that would ever happen was if I abandoned my New York dream and stayed right here in Texas. At least for the foreseeable future.
I didn’t reply yet. Let her think I was being mysterious and aloof. Broadway would have to wait. Today, I needed to be at the school to start preparing for the show tonight.
Refusing to let the world get me down, I threw on a festive sweater. Memories of a different Christmas sweater tried to haunt me, but I forced down the image of our faces on those elves. All it would do was make me sadder than I already was.
I drove over, playing holiday songs and looking at the lights on the houses. Things were tough at the moment, but life continued to go on all around me. People were celebrating, spreading cheer, falling in love. That might be me again someday, and I tried to keep hope alive.
And if nothing else, at least I had the high school Christmas play to make me feel useful.
Once I set foot in the auditorium, I saw Dixie right inside the doors, talking to Mrs. Fletcher and Mr. Cunningham, the assistant principal. My feet froze me in place, even though my instincts screamed at me to head for the hills and never look back. What on earth could this harpy be doing here?
I turned to leave but Dixie whirled to face me. “There she is!”
She didn’t say it the way you’d greet an old friend; she said it like she’d been hunting for me at the head of a pitchfork-waving mob and she’d finally found me.
Witty as ever in the face of uncertainty, my response was, “Huh?”
It was apparently not the right thing to say to calm Dixie down. Her face turned an ugly shade of red, visible even through the half inch of makeup she had spackled on herself. I imagined even circus clowns would think it was a bit much.
It did not make it any less scary when she marched toward me on her spiked heels. “Why on earth would you think it’s okay to help out here?”
“What do you mean?” I asked her, genuinely confused.
Dixie turned to look at Mr. Cunningham. “Why would you allow someone like Clara to help with the production? She couldn’t keep her own theater running, letting the building get rundown, making things unsafe.”
Some of my courage returned, fueled by anger. “Why are you here? I was asked to be here because of my experience in professional theater productions.”
“Did you ask her to be here?” Dixie asked Cunningham.
The portly man looked sweaty and nervous. He shook his head vigorously, as if Dixie was in charge somehow. “I certainly did not.”
“I asked her to be here,” Mrs. Fletcher said, standing up for me against these two bullies.
Dixie sniffed. “Well, the mayor asked me to be here, to come check on the play he’s so generously sponsoring this year.” With a smug smile, she looked at me and spoke to me like I was a child. “You see, he paid for all the sets and the costumes and, of course, he donated money on top of that.”
My eyes narrowed in confusion. “I’m sorry, but why would the mayor ask you to check things out?”
Dixie’s eyes widened in rage and I had no idea why. I did, however, take a big step backward, just in case she came at me with her claws out.
“I have experience in the theater,” Dixie said proudly. “He trusts my judgment. Not that it’s any of your business.”
I probably shouldn’t have laughed at her, but the idea that Dixie had anything like actual theater experience was a total joke. My laugh was loud. “How many plays have you been in?”
She didn’t like that question one bit. “As of now, your services are no longer needed here. You’re fired.”
“I’m just volunteering.” I shook my head, fighting tears. I would not let this bitch make me cry in front of her. “You can’t fire me.”
“Go volunteer where you’re wanted,” Dixie said. “Maybe a girl like you needs to dream smaller. I think the gas station just outside of town is hiring. Maybe that’ll be more your speed.”
I stood there with my mouth gaping, unable to believe this was happening.
Dixie turned back toward Cunningham and Mrs. Fletcher, intentionally giving me her back. “Okay, now that that’s settled, we can talk about some of the changes the mayor wants us to make. First, the play will open with a song, sung by me, of course.”
Cunningham nodded like a coward. Mrs. Fletcher’s lips were pursed tightly like she was holding back from saying anything that might get her fired. She glanced over at me, and I decided to leave before she tried defending me again.
Bitter winter winds tugged my jacket open and icy fingers slid inside every gap of clothing, sending shivers right down to my bones. All warmth had left my body, along with the last shred of Christmas cheer.
My legs were numb, but I doggedly put one foot in front of the other, knowing I couldn’t give up and freeze to death in the high school parking lot. I refused to give Dixie the satisfaction. Then again, maybe she would trip over my body and sprain her ankle or something.
I was just getting into my car when someone yelled my name. If it was Dixie, I might just back up into her. Not hard. I wasn’t a monster. Just a little nudge.
But it was Mrs. Fletcher, relieving me of the urge for violence. The woman said nothing as she pulled me into her arms and hugged me. “I’m so, so sorry, sweetheart.”
I cried a little then, in her comforting embrace.
She had always been a steady guiding hand in my life, as both my English and drama teacher.
It felt nice to have someone be soft with me after my world had been filled with jagged edges.
Luke’s arms would have been better but that was no longer an option for me.
“What just happened in there?” I asked through a sob.
“Dixie is still the mean girl she was in high school. She’s such a bitch.”
I snorted a surprised laugh and looked up at her. “I’ve never heard you curse before.”
She smiled down at me. “Dixie Garner has never been in charge of one of my plays before. Trust me, sweetie, that won’t be the last time I make God blush today.”
“Why is she working for the mayor?” I asked as she released me.
“Oh, you don’t know?” Mrs. Fletcher leaned in close like she was about to share a secret. “She’s not working for him. She’s letting him… you know.”
“I don’t think I do.”
“He’s conjugating her verb. He’s splitting her infinitive. You know, he’s been dangling his participle for her.”
I shook my head blankly. “I don’t understand your grammar euphemisms.”
“They’re fucking,” she said too loudly and immediately covered her mouth.
I gasped and my mouth stayed open in surprise. “Gross, isn’t he super old?”
Mrs. Fletcher nodded. “He was mayor when I was a kid.”
Another shiver ran through me. “Nasty ass bitch.”
My old teacher barked out a laugh. “I would feel sorry for her, but then she walks around town like she’s the queen bee.”
“Well, she’s doing a hell of a lot better than me,” I said, wiping my cheeks. “Everything in my life keeps falling apart. Would do you think? Am I just a washed-up small-town girl with dreams too big?”
“Not at all,” Mrs. Fletcher said. “Every life has its ups and downs. Nothing ever goes right all the time.”
“Why do assholes like Dixie live great lives when decent people struggle? It’s like the bad guys are always winning.” I waved my own words off like she should ignore me, but Mrs. Fletcher took my hand and squeezed it gently.
“For one thing, losers always try to tear down people who try to do big things. It makes them feel better about their own crappy lives. Two, if you think Dixie is happy, you’re out of your mind. She spreads misery everywhere she goes because it’s overflowing from her like a backed-up sewer pipe.”
“Damn, Mrs. Fletcher.”
The sweet older woman shrugged. “I just call it like I see it. Just remember that chasing our dreams is the whole reason we’re alive. Without it, we’re just existing, not living. So keep your chin up and don’t let the Dixies of the world get you down.”
I gave her another hug and said my goodbyes. Mrs. Fletcher’s pep talk hadn’t banished all the pain in my chest, but she had talked me down off the ledge at least, and for that, I would be forever grateful to her.
No matter what my tomorrow looked like, at least I knew there were some good people in the world. I just kept running into the bad ones.