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LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION

Jason: Anybody have tickets?

Simon: Nope. All gone.

Jon: Dancing queens bought them all.

Amanda: I’ll sell you mine.

Jason: You’re going.

Amanda: Half price?

The texts had come in all morning. We did it. Every ticket to a middle school play had been sold out. When I passed through the lobby, a group of sparkly men were negotiating for standing room. As long as Firefly didn’t have a militant fire marshal, we’d have people sitting in the aisles.

Laurel: What do you mean, sold out?

Chris: Trail magic.

Since we arrived, we hadn’t talked. We were busy with the parents, dressing kids as Lost Boys and pirates. Hook had gotten his hook stuck in his wig. Nana lost a shoe. To my surprise, it was Tinker Bell who rallied the troops. Not once did she threaten to bite any of the cast.

We stood at the part in the curtain. Laurel continued pointing, checking items off her clipboard. She wouldn’t calm down until every person in the audience had left. Then, she could move on to worrying about the review in the paper.

Laurel pointed to Will, who flicked the auditorium lights. The crowd grew quiet. We only had a couple of minutes before we introduced the play. I had been ready to let her make the introduction, but she demanded I be by her side.

“You ready?”

I fiddled with my tie. I had ruined Rose’s expert knot. As I tried and failed, Laurel beckoned me over. She popped my collar, adjusting the lengths. The frantic woman I first met at the coffee shop had all but vanished. It had only been a couple of months, and already, Laurel felt like family.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Can’t have my co-director looking a mess.”

I shook my head. “Not for that.” She slowed, flipping the tie this way and that. “That day in the coffee shop, I almost said no. I came to Firefly to hide and get away. The last thing I needed was a bunch of screaming kids—” I looked over my shoulder. “Yes, I’m talking about you, Nana.”

He barked in response.

“I didn’t expect to care about a middle school play, of all things. The more Firefly dragged me in, the more at home I felt. This has been exactly what I needed.”

“Chris Wilde.” Her smirk stretched into a full-blown smile. “Are you saying I’m the reason you’re staying?”

“Forty percent your doing.”

She finished my tie, patting it against my chest. “Good to know it requires banging you to get any higher.” Laurel leaned in and kissed my cheek.

“I don’t know what the future holds for you and Bobby, but you’re family now.

Just don’t make things weird with him, or Thanksgiving is going to be awkward. ”

The humor masked the concern. It didn’t escape me that she brought up my future with Bobby.

First, we get through the play, then I’d sit down and have the talk with him.

I didn’t quite know how to explain it without him worrying I gave up my future for him.

Shaking my head, I pushed it from my mind.

Tonight belonged to Laurel and the kids.

My personal baggage would be there tomorrow.

“You ready, director?”

She linked arms with me and took a steadying breath. “Yes. You ready, director?”

I reached out, pulling back the edge of the heavy velvet curtain. Light poured in as we stepped onto the stage. The bright lights made it impossible to see more than the first couple of rows. I imagined the auditorium filled with people lining the back walls.

When we reached the center of the stage, the spotlight focused on us, the intensity making me sweat.

It started with a single clap and grew into a thunderous roar.

It grew beyond anything I could have imagined.

They had done it. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out the entirety of Firefly had shown up to support the kids.

I gave Laurel a slight push forward, stepping behind her.

Raising my hands, I clapped alongside them.

I might have helped, but she deserved this victory.

Through all the coffee and groaning into her clipboard, she succeeded at a challenge she never wanted.

I’d be surprised if she didn’t demand the fall play as well.

“Okay. Okay.” She waited for another wave of applause.

“I’m at a loss for words. I’ll keep this short.

For those who don’t know, I’m Laurel Wright, and I teach at Firefly Middle School.

I didn’t know what to expect when I took on this play.

I teach plays; I don’t direct them.” The audience chuckled.

“I’m a smart woman, smart enough to know when to ask for help. ”

She stepped to the side and grabbed my arm. The audience cheered again. I could hear Gloria shouting to take off my shirt. It seemed I’d have to live with the consequences of my strip tease. After that, Harvey’s dog better be on the mend.

“By this point, we all know Chris Wilde. I have a secret to confess.” She shot me a smile.

“We didn’t bump into each other by chance.

” Laurel had been stalking me? “I might have overheard my brother mention you staying in town. Rose gave me your itinerary for the day. I darted all over town trying to find you. There you were, drinking coffee, completely unaware of what was about to happen.”

Laurel wasn’t just telling a story; she was priming the crowd. This little vixen might be trying to embarrass me, but she worked the audience like a professional. If she confessed to being an improv master, I wouldn’t be shocked.

“From the bottom of my heart, on behalf of the kids, thank you.”

She gave me a shove toward the stairs, and the audience chuckled. While she organized and corralled children behind the scenes, she demanded I sit in the audience. No matter how much I objected, she ignored me. “It’s my job,” she’d say, as if that alleviated me of any responsibility.

While she vanished behind the curtain, I walked toward the steps on the side of the stage. The spotlight rushed across the curtain and stopped at the steps.

I gasped.

Bobby, my handsome mountain man, waited with a bouquet.

The crowd filled with murmurs as they awaited my next move.

I expected a pat on the back and a “job well done,” but this?

All of Firefly watched as I descended the stairs.

He had put on his best flannel and jeans.

He had been beautiful before, but cleaned up, I got to see more of his face.

I’d never get tired of that smile or those blushing cheeks.

“Congratulations,” he said.

I took the flowers, inhaling the sweet scent of spring, but that’s not what Firefly wanted to see.

I threw my arms around his shoulders and kissed him.

The roar of cheers and applause filled the auditorium.

I don’t think Bobby fully understood how he and this play had intertwined.

They had become the motivation that catapulted my confidence.

He wasn’t the reason I turned down the movie contract, but he had been part of the consideration.

I didn’t want to stop kissing him. Not now. Not ever. He bit my lip before we separated. It didn’t matter that hundreds of people watched—we existed in our own little bubble.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“For?”

“Being you.”

His eyes darted to the floor, his cheeks red from the compliment. He took my hand and guided me to our seats. I debated running behind the curtain and helping Laurel, but I couldn’t resist the thought of taking in my first play with this gorgeous bear. It would be the first of many firsts.

We settled into our seats, and his hand remained on my thigh. He leaned over and gave me another kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad you came to Firefly.”

I gave his hand a squeeze. “Me too.”

“I’ve enjoyed our time together,” he whispered.

I squeezed harder. Bobby didn’t have to say it, but something in his tone gave it away. He might be content to live in the moment, but there was a bit of sadness in his voice. While I prepared for a series of firsts, he looked at us speeding toward a series of lasts.

I wanted to gush and tell him about the conversation with Tessa, but this wasn’t the time or the place. We’d get to that conversation soon. Then, we could navigate a world of possibilities for the two of us. For now, I took Bobby’s lead and lived in the moment.

The curtains parted, and the show began.

“We did it.”

Laurel didn’t seem convinced. The audience had laughed when Peter Pan tripped while chasing his shadow and gasped when Tinker Bell knocked over one of the trees.

They sobbed when Wendy returned home. The play had been adorable despite the dozens of blunders.

It was exactly what a middle school play should be, all because of her.

“This is all you,” I said.

We stood at the doors to the auditorium, waving to folks as they exited.

The patrons had long since gone, and now all that remained were the actors and their parents.

I hadn’t hugged this many people in my entire life.

Kids, moms, dads. Every face held the biggest of smiles before they pushed through the double doors.

“Stop being modest.” She punched me in the arm. “Without you, they’d still be running in circles on stage.”

Abraham approached. He had nothing to do with the play, but he stayed behind the scenes, helping kids gather their belongings and head out.

It had officially become a family event.

I only wished Will was around. Though he was probably home writing his review of the play.

Hopefully, Laurel bribed him with cookies.

“Thanks for helping, Dad.” Laurel hugged her father, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Bobby had vanished shortly after the play.

We said our goodbyes, and if not for the rush of townspeople, I would have told him everything about the movie and my hopes for a future in Firefly.

It seemed like the universe kept interrupting our story, as if it wanted me to fight for that happily ever after.

“Good job, son.”