Chapter 7 #2
Indeed she was.
Nan stopped by Maggie’s side and sobbed. “The costume girl won’t listen to me.”
Ria took Nan’s arm in the full white sleeve. “Come back to the office. Maggie needs to work on the play.”
The blonde’s sobs only intensified.
“Hush, now.” Maggie put her arm around Nan’s shoulder and led her toward the door. “Everyone, take a short break. And practice your lines. Come along, Nan.”
“Poor Maggie,” Vi muttered. “She has enough theatrics onstage.”
“She does.” But she’d handled Nan’s scene with grace.
“I wish everyone knew their parts.” Her voice low, Vi tipped her head toward Carol—who was not practicing. “You do.”
Prescott settled into a chair in the “wings” of the stage. “Honestly, Duke Orsino is one of the easier roles. I only have four scenes. You have a heavy load, but you’re doing great.”
“Viola is such fun to play.” Vi took a seat beside him, her hair and eyes shining.
Yet her talent outshone her looks. “Did you ever do a screen test for a speaking role?”
She crinkled her nose. “A few offers. For a price I refused to pay.”
Prescott groaned. “I’m sorry you ladies are subjected to that. It’s wrong.”
“That’s why I like the USO. All of the fun, none of the funny business.”
On the far side of the gym, Greta practiced her acrobat routine with five big gold rings.
“I could probably get you a legitimate screen test,” Prescott said.
Vi shook her head hard, blonde hair swinging.
“I could come along, make sure everyone behaves.”
“It’s sweet of you, but I’m not interested.”
Prescott blinked at her. “You’re not?”
“Sure, it was fun dancing in musicals, and the USO is a hoot. But this isn’t what I want for my life.”
“What do you want?”
Vi glanced toward the door. “Don’t tell Maggie. I don’t want her to worry about me being distracted. But I was accepted into nursing school. I start in January.”
Prescott had lost his Hollywood dream, and Vi had set hers aside. Chosen a new path. So had Prescott. “I’m happy for you. And I won’t tell Maggie.”
Vi reached over and squeezed his knee. “Thanks for the offer—and for understanding.”
He winked at her. “Knock ’em dead, kid.”
“I certainly hope not.” Vi recoiled in mock horror. “Nurses are supposed to save lives, not take them.”
They laughed together.
“Oh, Maggie’s back,” Vi said. “Nan all straightened out?”
“For now.” Maggie stopped about ten feet away with a strained smile. A glance at Prescott’s knee—and Vi’s hand—and the smile vibrated. “Let’s get back to work, everyone. Scene 5.”
Vi left her seat to chat with Barbara.
But Prescott sat still with a funny feeling in his gut. Was Maggie jealous? Of him and Vi? A surge of pleasure. Could she be interested in him romantically? Some men would play up the jealousy, but Prescott hated games. And he liked Maggie. A lot.
The fifth scene progressed. Faltered. It contained lots of witty banter and entrances and exits. Many of the actors missed cues. Carol, playing Maria, didn’t know her lines.
“Carol, do you hear the cadence?” A thread of frustration wound through Maggie’s usual patience. “How the jester’s lines flow into yours, flow out of yours?”
Carol’s shoulders slumped. “It’s too hard. Too many lines. I’m used to doing comedy bits, not Shakespeare.”
“I’d like to see you spending more time reading your script and less time chatting with your friends.” Maggie’s words carried both gentleness and a backbone.
Prescott tapped his fingers on his knees. Carol had been singing with Prescott three times a week in the hospital—when she could have been studying her lines.
“Carol, you’re perfect for Maria,” Maggie said. “You bring zest and humor to this role. I know you can do it.”
If only Prescott could put his arm around Maggie’s shoulder as she’d done for Nan. She hadn’t flinched from his touch when she was typing.
A small smile rose. They’d spent two Sundays in a row at her house, plus the Friday after Thanksgiving, typing and bouncing ideas off each other while Mr. Curtis followed along.
He was determined to finish his script before opening night. After that, meeting to type would grow difficult.
Yet all he wanted was to slow down the process so he could savor it.
“Pause right there.” Despite the panic in Maggie’s chest, she aimed a calm expression at the five comedic players. “Freddie, Sir Toby is the key to this scene. He teases Sir Andrew, banters with Maria and the jester, and taunts Malvolio. His clever use of words is vital. You must slow down.”
Freddie waved her off. “Sir Toby is quick-witted. He talks fast.”
“But onstage, you must slow down, especially with Elizabethan speech. If the audience doesn’t understand Sir Toby’s line, they won’t understand Sir Andrew’s misunderstanding of that line.”
Freddie’s eyelids fluttered as if he wanted to roll his eyes.
“Slow down. Enunciate. Start over.” Maggie returned to her seat. After four days off for Thanksgiving, the cast had fallen behind, and she had so little time before opening night.
“Miss Oliver!” Mrs. Laverne stomped across the gym, her face bright red, her arms swinging hard.
“Just a minute, please.” Maggie held up one hand to the club director so the scene onstage could play out.
Mrs. Laverne stepped right in front of her chair and glared down at her. “Mrs. Buffington saw one of your girls swanning around the club half-dressed.”
Maggie sighed, rose, and glanced over Mrs. Laverne’s shoulder at the actors. “Take a short break. Study your lines.”
Now Mrs. Laverne glared up at her. “I will not stand for this.”
With difficulty, Maggie assumed her most soothing expression. “I do apologize. The lady was having a costume fitting in my office, and—”
“Lady? Ladies don’t parade in front of gentlemen with their clothes falling off.”
Ria jogged into the gym. “I’m sorry, Miss Oliver. I was explaining to Mrs. Laverne—”
“Some things don’t need explaining.” Mrs. Laverne wheeled on Ria.
Ria didn’t back down. “I told the actress to stay in the office.”
“And I escorted her back immediately,” Maggie said. “Other than one bared shoulder, I assure you everything was proper.”
“Nothing proper about Hollywood floozies—”
“I beg your pardon.” Maggie’s chest stiffened, and so did her tone. “These ladies passed the same screening as your volunteers, took the same training. They signed contracts promising to behave in a manner consistent with public decency and morality. Please do not insult them.”
“I’m calling Mr. Anderson.” Mrs. Laverne stomped away.
Ria gripped Maggie’s arm. “I’ll call him first. I run faster than she does.” Indeed, Ria passed Mrs. Laverne before she reached the door.
“Go, Ria. Go,” Maggie muttered, and she rubbed her forehead.
Prescott stood close to Vi, talking low, and an ugly pang added to the throbbing in Maggie’s head. After so many pleasant days typing together, she’d thought something special was developing between them. Apparently, she was mistaken.
And apparently, quite selfish. If she truly cared about Prescott, she’d want him to be happy, even with Vi.
But was it wrong to want happiness for herself? And for Frank?
Prescott and Vi came up to Maggie, and Vi laid her hand on Maggie’s arm. “We’re sorry this is happening. Is there any way we can help?”
They were such good friends, and she gave a rueful smile. “Help Carol learn her lines?”
Vi glanced away. “I’ll talk to her right now.”
“Thank you.”
After Vi left, Prescott stepped closer. “I’m praying for you. That’s the best help.”
“It is. Thanks.” Maggie rubbed circles on her temple. She’d been so busy, she hadn’t sat down with her prayer notebook for days. And listening took even more time than listing.
“About Carol,” Prescott said with his smooth voice. “She sings for the hospital shows. She’s excellent, but she could use that time to study. What if Vi took her place?”
Maggie’s throat closed off. A nurse served as Prescott’s liaison within the hospital, but Frank escorted the singers to the hospital.
“I told Frank about Vi’s star quality. She’d be a huge hit with the fellows.” Warmth filled Prescott’s brown eyes. “He thinks it’s meant to be. The street he grew up on was called Violet Lane.”
So that was where Vi got her stage name. How utterly romantic! And how utterly unromantic to meet again at the park gate. And with opening night only a week and a half away.
“Maggie?” Prescott said with a frown.
She raised a smile that felt fake. “It’s a great idea, but Vi has the largest female part in the show.”
“Too much, huh?”
“I’ll ask another girl to take Carol’s place. I’ll do it myself if necessary.”
“I wouldn’t mind.” Prescott winked at her.
Maggie managed to smile despite the twisting in her stomach. Now she was officially meddling.