19. Avery
“Where are the swords?”
“Right here, Suze,” one of the cast rushes over, brandishing the props– pointy end out.
“Whoa!” I leap back to avoid getting slashed. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you, don’t run with scimitars!”
“Sorry!”
I catch my breath. It’s the day of the big Shakespeare Festival, which has taken over the whole town square in Blackberry Cove. Amateur theater groups from across the state have been giving their performances all morning, there are booths and vendors on every corner, and the place is packed with tourists– not to mention actors wandering around in full Elizabethan costume like they’ve just stepped out of a time portal. We’re clustered in the roped-off backstage area, aka, the diner parking lot, and it’s ten minutes until showtime for our teens…
Which means everything is in total chaos.
“You can’t come in too early on my line.” One of the kids wails, clutching script pages.
“Because you forgot to pause!”
“Where’s my boot?” Our Romeo comes crashing through. “I can’t find my boot!”
I stand well back from the mayhem. “Those are some realistic looking props,” I tell Suze, still eyeing the swords.
Suze winces. “Well, technically, they’re real. Everything looked so fake!” she protests quickly, “So we borrowed Blake’s older brother’s samurai collection. It’ll be fine!”
“Duke!” I look around, and find him helping a group of 70-something veteran actors hauling their set to their van. “Electrical tape?” I call, and he tosses me a roll. I hand it to Suze. “Tape the blades, unless you want a very realistic death scene for poor Mercutio.”
“Good idea.”
I smile, watching the actors pace, nervously muttering their lines. It takes me back to my own student theater days– or even just showing up on the first day onset for a movie, full of anxious butterflies. There’s nothing like the buzz a few minutes before the cameras start rolling– or the curtain goes up.
“Let me guess, you’re regretting ever stepping foot in this ridiculous town?” Duke jokes, coming up behind me. He wraps his arms around me, kissing the back of my neck. “I know I am.”
“Hush you!” I laugh, leaning back against him. “You’ve been going out of your way to help people all morning. You love the crazy.”
“I’ll love it even more when it’s over,” Duke mutters. “And Suze isn’t texting me at two a.m changing her mind on the backdrops again.”
I smile. I’m not fooled by his grumbling, Duke’s been in his element today: hammering, and hoisting, and looking damn good while doing so.
“OK, huddle up,” Suze calls, when the props are no longer a major health hazard. The cast all gathers. “It’s time to get out there, and have fun. And whatever happens—” She stops, looking around in panic. “Wait, where’s our Juliet?”
Everybody looks, but there’s no sign of her.
“She was just in the bathroom,” one of the kids offers.
“I’ll go,” I volunteer quickly. “I’m sure it’s just some last-minute jitters!”
I speedwalk across the green, weaving through theater troupes and the audience, settled with blankets and picnics on the grass. A dramatic Hamlet monologue is just coming to an end at the gazebo, which means I need to find Juliet, and fast.
“Hey!” Tessa and Jackson are just unpacking their lawn chairs, with Artie in tow. “How’s it going?”
“Great! Can’t stop, enjoy the show!” I call, speeding on. I’m surprised at just how many faces in the crowd are familiar to me now, as I wave to people on my way over to the Town Hall. It’s being used for makeshift dressing rooms, and is just as much a madhouse as the scenes outside.
“Emily?” I call, looking for her amongst the racks of clothing and boxes of props. I find her in a corner, dressed up in the simple long nightgown and robe for her balcony scene. She’s clutching her script pages with trembling hands, looking pale and queasy.
“I can’t do it!” she wails, seeing me. “I can’t go on.”
“Yes, you can.” I try to be reassuring. “Stage fright is part of the deal! I get it all the time. But I promise you, the minute you step out there in front of everyone, all the fear will melt away. And if it doesn’t… well, that’s why they call it acting. You’ll just pretend!”
But Emily isn’t convinced. “Everyone will laugh at me,” she sniffs, teary-eyed. “And what if Cade screws up? You saw him in rehearsals, he just cares about looking cool.”
“He’s been taking it seriously in rehearsals this week,” I argue. “And you look so good. Come on,” I beckon, eyeing my watch. But Emily is still sniffling, and we don’t have time for a long, drawn-out pep talk, so I try a different tactic, instead.
“OK,” I agree, straightening up, “If you can’t do it, then give me your costume. The understudy can go on instead.”
Emily’s head snaps up. “What?”
“Lulu, wasn’t that her name?” I ask, bluffing. “I’m sure she’d love the chance. Performing in front of a real crowd, being centerstage… quickly, we need that costume.”
Sure enough, Emily shoots to her feet. “I’m fine,” she says, wiping at her face. “She’s not taking my part!”
“Attagirl.” I grin. There’s nothing like a little friendly competition to move things along. “Hurry now, before Romeo decides to skip straight to his death scene!”
We makeit back to the stage area just in time– and their performance goes off without a hitch. Well, OK, maybe there are a few flubbed lines and missed cues, but by the time the cast line up to take their bows to a massive round of applause, everyone’s smiling and exhilarated.
Well, almost.
“Remind me never to volunteer for anything again!” Suze wails, collapsing into a nearby lawn chair. The kids rush offstage, and go to celebrate with their families and friends– leaving us adults to clear and pack everything away. “I’ve aged ten years in the past week!”
“More like twenty,” Duke teases, and Suze pokes him with one of the swords.
“Didn’t you already sign up to run the Christmas production?” Lori asks, greeting her with a kiss.
“I need to invent time travel just to go back and throttle Past Me,” Suze sighs. “She was so young, and full of na?ve dreams.”
I laugh. “You did a great job,” I say, congratulating her. “They really pulled it off in the end.”
“They did, didn’t they?” Suze says proudly. “But we couldn’t have done it without you.”
“What? I didn’t do anything,” I protest. “Duke’s the one who’s been hauling scenery around. Scenery he built with his own two hands.”
“Thank you,” Duke speaks up, from where he’s dismantling background flats. “It’s nice to know someone appreciates my skills.”
Oh, I do.
“You’re great, whatever,” Suze dismisses him playfully. “But Avery, you’ve been a real inspiration for them. I don’t know what you said to Emily, but I didn’t think she had a performance like that in her!”
“Oh, I just threatened to give the role to her understudy, instead.” I grin. “Trust me, nothing fuels an actress like pure spite. I was running a 103o fever the night of my middle school production of Scrooge,” I add, “but I still went on rather than let Rhian Tibbetts take the lead instead.”
“That’s my petty, spiteful girl.” Duke leans over to give me an affectionate kiss.
“You know, I could use some help for the next theater production, too…” Suze eyes me determinedly. “If you’re around for the holidays.”
Christmas in Blackberry Cove?
I pause, surprisingly tempted by that idea. “Maybe,” I reply lightly. “Who knows how much longer this career exile is going to last? I might need to apply for a full-time gig in the drama department if my agent keeps ducking my calls,” I add, only half kidding. Max has been giving me the silent treatment all week, and even my messages about my meeting with Madeline didn’t spur more than a couple of thumbs up emoji texts.
It doesn’t take a mindreader to know, he’s lost faith in me and my career.
Duke squeezes my hand. “Don’t say that,” he murmurs. “You know how talented you are. All the gossip has been dying down, and you’ll get offers flooding in, soon enough.”
“I’ll take a trickle at this point,” I reply, touched by his faith in me– even if he doesn’t realize how long Hollywood can hold a grudge sometimes. “But either way, it’s going to take some time. So…” I check the festival program. “Who wants to see an interpretive dance performance of ‘Twelfth Night’, set in a futuristic alien wasteland?”
Duke groans.
I beam. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’!”
We all head out toenjoy the rest of the festival. There are some gems of a production– and also some hilarious stinkers, too, but I can tell, the quality isn’t the point. Nobody’s here because they’re hoping to get scouted by some big shot Hollywood manager, or launch their Broadway career. No, most of the performers are here for the love of Shakespeare, and the chance to do something fun with all their friends.
Duke and I load up on snacks, and re-join Suze and Lori, who have set up camp with Jackson and Tessa.
“Come, sit!” Tessa waves me over. “We were just saying, we need to have a big party before the end of summer. Duke, you can host.”
“I must have forgotten volunteering,” he says good-naturedly.
“Your place is huge, and I’m all hosted out from BB duties,” she argues.
“Plus, when you think ‘welcoming good-time guy’, you’re the first one who comes to mind,” I tease him. Duke grins.
“Me? I’m the life of the party. As long as I can leave it by nine.”
“Nine?” Jackson hoots with laughter. “You’re usually long-gone by then– if you even show up at all. Avery must be a good influence.”
Now I’m the one who has to laugh. A good influence? So far, I’ve been seducing Duke every chance I get, and had the man on the front pages looking like he should be arrested for public indecency.
And loved every minute of it.
My phone buzzes in my bag, and I fish it out. It’s Max – and there are about a dozen missed calls from him, too. My heart sinks.
“What is it?” Duke leans over.
“My agent.” I sigh. He sees my reluctance.
“It could be good news,” Duke reminds me gently, and I manage a faint smile.
“Sure.”
And it could also be some new disaster turning my life upside down again.
Gee, which has better odds?
“I’ll be right back.”
I get up, and weave my way through the crowd to a quiet spot on the edge of the green. “Hello?” I answer, bracing myself for the worst. Did one of my supposed friends just give a tell-all interview claiming I had an affair with one of the Kardashians? Is Max going to try and talk me into appearing on a reality show, naked on some island with my ex?
“What took you so long?” Max demands. “I’ve been calling all day.”
“Sorry,” I reply. “I’m here now. What’s up?”
“Who’s your favorite agent in the world?” he asks, sounding pumped.
“Umm, the one who cuts the bullshit and just tells me what’s going on?” I reply, getting even more nervous now.
He laughs. “You always were a straight shooter. OK, here it is: Jennifer Grace has dropped out of Annihilation 3, and they want you for the lead.”
My jaw drops. “What?”
“Turns out, she had a bad reaction to her weight-loss drugs, and now she’s off them, she’s ballooned twenty pounds and can’t get it off in time to shoot.” Max whoops tastelessly. “They need someone ASAP, the producers just called. What do you say about that?”
“I… I don’t know.” I try to wrap my head around it. Annihilation 3 is a big action movie sequel that I thought I’d booked back in the spring. They went with someone else at the last minute, and I was devastated. “When do they want me to start?”
“Soon. You’ll need to get started with the stunt training now – once the director signs off,” he adds. “But that’s a formality. He’ll love you, everybody does.”
“What about Madeline’s movie?” I ask, pausing.
“What?” Max sounds confused. “Oh, yeah, that indie thing. They’ve been radio silent. But don’t get distracted,” he adds. “This is what we’ve been waiting for, right? You don’t even die in the script! Who knows how many more movies they might want you back for? A big juicy franchise, front and center. I told you we could make it happen.”
Actually, he advised me to buckle up and take the slasher flick while I still had a chance. But then the news sinks in. A leading role, in a blockbuster movie… it’s everything I’ve been hoping for.
I’m back.
“When does the director want to meet?” I ask excitedly.
“See, that’s the catch,” Max says. “He’s about to fly to Europe to scout locations, he’s in New York right now. I know you can just video call, but he’s all about chemistry. Can you make it there tonight to meet?”
“Sure!” I blurt. If he needed me to meet him on a barge in the middle of the Atlantic, I’d find a way. “I’ll be there.”
“Great. I’ll send you the info. This is it,” Max adds. “I knew we could do it. It’s time for the big time, babe.”
I hang up, racing back to the others in a panic. “How long is the drive to New York?” I demand, arriving back at the picnic.
Duke gets to his feet. “Six hours, maybe more depending on traffic. What’s going on?”
“I have a meeting about a role, a big one.”
“But that’s great,” he exclaims, and everyone else chimes in with cheers and congratulations too.
“It would be great, but I’m not going to make it in time!” I check my phone and bite back a wail. It’s already past 2 p.m. “The director can only see me tonight, before he leaves the country, and I said I’d be there, but?—”
“You’ll make it,” Duke says immediately, pulling me into a hug. “Breathe.”
“There’s a direct flight from Provincetown to JFK,” Tessa speaks up. “It’s a puddle-jumper, but it’ll get you there. Grandpa, doesn’t your buddy work at the airfield?”
“Mike. I’ll call him now,” Artie agrees, pulling out his phone.
“I can drive you by the cottage to grab a bag, then get you on the next flight,” Duke tells me, reassuring. “You’ll be there with time to spare.”
“I’ll need it,” I gulp, clutching his hand. I’ve been running around all day, and my sweaty cut-offs and a tank-top aren’t exactly the version of Avery Lawrence that’s going to stroll into this meeting and blow everyone away.
My nerves grow. It feels so long since I’ve been back in Hollywood, playing the carefree starlet. I’m going to have to dazzle them – if I can even remember how.
“Would you come with me?” I ask Duke impulsively. I look up at him, somehow calmed just by the warmth of his arms around me. “I know it’ll just be boring schmoozing, and you hate all this Hollywood stuff, but?—”
“I’ll be there.” He cuts me off with a brief kiss. “Whatever you need.”
“Mike’s going to hold the next flight for you,” Artie reports, hanging up. “You two might be sitting in the co-pilot’s lap, but they’ll make space.”
“Oh my God, thank you!” I rush over to hug him. “All of you!”
“Thank us later,” Tessa laughs. “For now, go. And knock ‘em dead!”