#mdau2

[askawomanwithsomethingtofightfor]

Belle was sitting in the make-up chair, not really paying attention to the noise in the background...

@askthedarkone

"Arlene Campbell, we're at half-hour. If you're here please let a stage manager know."

Such pages were part of backstage life. You were supposed to sign in on the sheet by the door when you got there, if you didn't, then at the half-hour mark, someone checked to see if you were really there. And sometimes, if you had a lot on your mind, or you had a bathroom emergency, or someone caught you just as you were stepping in and needed to go over something with you immediately, a little thing like a sign-up sheet could slip your mind. Any minute now, a phone would ring backstage or Arlene would holler that she was present.

"Don't you understudy her?" Kelly asked as she reached for the kohl eyeshadow. "Hold still."

Belle had been about to nod, but instead, she smiled. "Yes. I... uh... guess she's running late." She would not get her hopes up, especially since Arlene was really nice and Belle didn't want anything bad to happen to her.

Five minutes later, the page came again and Belle nearly spoiled the mascara application when her eyes widened involuntarily.

"Hold still," Kelly reminded her. "You don't want to get stabbed in the eye with a brush!"

"Never mind that!" Jansson came barreling up to her. "Belle, get out of those butterfly wings and grab some dungarees. Kelly, make her look fourteen and natural."

"Wait, what?"

"Arlene's just called in. Or croaked in; she's got laryngitis."

"Thought she was coughing a bit backstage last night," Kelly snorted.

"Yeah, she was hoping it was a twenty-four hour thing, but it looks like it's going to take longer. So, get changed; get made up again, and get ready. You go on in forty-five minutes!"

He tore off down the hall, shouting, "Someone get those notices into the Playbills!"

Belle got up, hoping her knees weren't shaking. She knew the part cold; she'd played it in summer stock and community theatre in her teens. She'd belted out "If Mama Was Married" with her friend Lisa at summer camp talent night. But she hadn't been expecting... Hoping, yes. Sort of. But... But... She could do this, she told herself firmly. She could and she would.

All the same, she was glad her character wouldn't be needed on stage until midway through the first act. It gave her a little more time to get ready.

Even if her heart did skip a beat twenty-two minutes later when the announcement rang out through the house:

"Tonight, the part of Gypsy Rose Lee will be played by Belle French. The part of Tessie Tura will be played by..."

[askcecilylappin]

Do you want kids one day?

Sure when I'm really old, like in my thirties. But not now.

[askawoodenauthor]

How would your friends describe you?

Easy-going and easy to count on.

[askawomanwithsomethingtofightfor]

Maybe this was a mistake.

@askthedarkone

Maybe the way her morning had gone so far was some sort of warning sign. She’d been harassed on her run by some creep who thought he was G-d’s gift to women and didn’t think he was refundable. Luckily, she’d been faster and she’d passed a uniformed officer by the ramble. Either the police officer had intervened or his mere presence had been enough to scare off the guy, but it had put a damper on her morning.

She’d gone home to shower and only then discovered that her blow dryer (purchased second-hand three years ago) had picked today to go on strike. It hadn’t overheated or shot off sparks or made any weird noises. It had simply not responded when she’d flicked the on-switch. So now, two damp braids were pinned atop her head and secured under the tam.

She’d gone to get her green coat and blinked when it hadn’t been hanging in the closet. Then she remembered: she’d worn it the other night after it had rained most of the afternoon and been drenched by filthy water after a taxi driver had, apparently, tried to set some new urban speed record—through a puddle that had been more like a lake. She’d taken it to the dry cleaners yesterday on her way to the theater and hadn’t quite remembered when she’d told Mr. Robert Gold what she’d be wearing. 

Fine. Fine. Brown anorak it was. She pulled it on, exchanged her runners for walking shoes, took five minutes to apply some light make-up and hurried out. On her way back to the park, she pulled out her phone to call and let him know, only to realize that she hadn’t programmed his number in. What on earth had she done with it? Was it still in the pocket of the sweats she’d been wearing backstage when she’d called it? Shoved into the bulky knapsack she wasn’t carrying now? Had she even kept it or just set it down absently while trying to process the idea of having an actual fan and trying to remember her lines and choreography for the last-minute run-through?

Maybe she shouldn’t go.

No. She was halfway there already and she could use a coffee. And if he was waiting for her, she certainly couldn’t stand him up.

And if he stood her up? Well, that might just be par for the morning.

[askawomanwithsomethingtofightfor]

If you could say anything to your father what would you say?

At this point? There's nothing. The truth is, I can say anything to him. I can also say anything to a brick wall. The results are the same except that I don't hope for anything from the wall.

I thought I'd made my peace with that, but I would still like to be able to have one conversation with him that isn't about the weather and doesn't put me on the defensive.

I'd also like to be nominated for a Tony award this year.

Somehow, I suspect that as improbable as that event is, it's still likelier than the first scenario.

[askawomanwithsomethingtofightfor]

what are three words you would use to describe this past year?

Exhilarating, hectic, stressful

[askawomanwithsomethingtofightfor]

what is the kindest thing you did for someone else this year?

I... don't think one should really rank acts of kindness. It somehow feels like it diminishes them.

[askawoodenauthor]

what are three words you would use to describe this past year?

Settled, warm, connected